The Naval Review The copyright of this article rests with the author, or the author's estate.

OUR MERCHANT SEAMAN.

You have seen him in the street rolling round on groggy feet,

You have seen him clutch the pavement for support,

You have seen him arm-in-arm with some girl of doubtful charm

Who was leading Johnny safely into port.

You have shuddered in disgust as he grovelled in the dust,

You're revolted when you see him on the spree,

But, you haven't seen the rip of his lonely merchant ship

Ploughing furrows through a mine-infested sea.

You have cheered our naval lads in their stately ironc1ads,

You have spared a cheer for Tommy Atkins too,

Yet you've trembled in a funk when you've read of steamers sunk;

But, you never cared a damn about the crew.

He brings your wounded back on a sub-infested track,

He ferries all your troops about at night;

He belongs to no brigade, he's neglected, underpaid,

But - he's always in the thickest of the fight.

He fights the lurking Hun with his pipsqueak little gun,

He'll ruin Adolf Hitler's mighty plan.

He's a hero, he's a nut, he's the bleeding limit-BUT,

He's just a MERCHANT SERVICE SAILOR MAN.

When this wretched war is over, don't forget, the Straits of Dover

And all the blessed Seven Seas as well

Are alive with men like these, bringing you your bread and cheese,

You will remember, won't you. . . will you-Hell! !

Note.-I found the greater part of this poem, or should one say "doggerel?" in our Shipping Agent's office in Capetown; it should have been on the door with a dedication to "Landlubbers" ; but. . . business is business when all is said and done!

3rd August, 1942.

W. M. G.