You're Listening to "Victory at Sea"

The Ammunition Ship Crew

You can talk about your soldiers and the fighting mud Marines,
Even talk about the Coast Guard and the Seabees, oh, so green,
But you've never met a fighting man, a seaman- oh, so true
Until you've met a sailor from an ammunition crew.

His nerves of steel are legend and his eyes, they always gleam,
He's always working cargo, sometimes even in his dreams.
He's looking for some break time, and any scheme will do,
But some bosun's always saying, "Hey Deck Ape...Turn To !".

Going into battles and invasions with the rest,
Or hours and hours of unreps, you face the rugged test.
Hoping that you're lucky and that the ship don't take a hit,
Cause if it does, they'll pick you up- bit by tiny bit!

And when the battle's over and the others take a rest
Even though you're awf'ly tired from giving all your best,
There's a cruiser on the radar- more rearming to be done !
And you're the poor unfortunate, you pitiful son of a gun !

Sometimes other sailors get some liberty in town
Have a chance to meet a lady, or chug a coupl'a rounds.
But- Ammo ship crews rarely ever hear that happy news
There's work to do and ships to serve! The poor forgotten crews!

When the world war was over and they dreamed of going home
They weren't allowed to go there, and those islands they did roam
For they had on board six thousand tons of deadly TNT
And they weren't allowed to dump it in the briny deep blue sea.

But we all knew, as we worked hard, and on and on we'd sail,
That friendships forged with loyal mates would never, ever fail.
While other ships would get the press and we might be neglected,
We have each other- we're brothers all- we've done what was expected.

From the South Pacific isles to Korea's rocky coast,
From dusty Port Chicago to a Yankee Station post,
From Desert gulfs to Arctic cold to European seas,
On sunny days and frozen nights and times of fragile peace;

AE's are primed to serve your needs at any given hour
With rockets, bombs and blood and sweat- American sea power.
A ready source of mighty tools for making the World free,
It's a source of pride for anyone to serve on an "AE".


So- now you've heard my story and here's a little tip:
If you want your praise and glory, stay off an ammo ship.
Yet, years and years thereafter, and your son asks "What'd YOU do ?"
You can tell him then with well-earned pride- "I was on an ammo crew !"

{Apologies to Archie for some editing to update
the poem a bit. It's still a classic. I believe
most of it was written during WW2.}