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Who heard the message and answered the call To break away from the old mainstream and live our lives on a submarine. Sub School gave us the chance to pass the test To declare that we were The Best of the Best. When we left New London with orders in hand We all headed out on different courses for distant, faraway lands. Some went East coast some went West But no matter where you ended up, your first boat's the best. You reported on board not knowing what to think But now you're known to all as a nub and a dink. You learn about Tradition and learn about Pride, You learn about Honor and the men who have died, You learn about the heritage that's been passed on to you Because now you're considered one of the crew. You study that boat from bow to stern From the conning tower to the bilges, it's your duty to learn Where and what makes that boat go, how it operates and in what direction it flows How to charge those batteries and keep them alive or how to rig the boat for dive Draw those systems fore and aft, blow the shitters, Check the draft These are duties that you must glean when you live your life on a submarine When you've learned all there is to know about your boat You show 'em you know it, by your walk through vote You go before the Qual Board, card in hand Where they question and grill you to beat the band And when you think you can take no more They tell you to wait just outside the door. For what seems like eons, Time stands still And when they call you in, you feel quite ill! But they congratulate you for doing so good And welcome you into their Brotherhood. Right of passage declares that you must drink your "fish". And the tacking on process is not something you wish But you wear those dolphins on your chest with pride Because down deep in your heart, you know you're Qualified. That I truly lived on a submarine Most Boats are gone, a memory of time I wonder what happened to that crew of mine? The Old Boats that are left, are all museums And even if you rode 'em, you have to pay admission to see 'em. So here's to us, those that remember Who rode the boats out in all kinds of weather To those past, present and even the future To those young, hardy lads who still love adventure So let's lift our glasses and have a toast To the memory of those daring young sailors and their undersea boats. Composed & Read at the 1st USS Tiru SS 416 Reunion Charleston, South Carolina |
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