USS John W. Thomason DD760 Association

L. W Blunt was a Seaman aboard the USS John W. Thomason DD760  1959 - 60


The log was covered with barnicles,
So heavy it's a wonder it never sank,
But after scraping a few sea monsters off,
We discovered it was no log, but a plank.

Everyone came to inspect our new guest,
Talking about how it looked so strange,
But it was like a gift from heaven,
For it gave us something new for a change.

We really picked up some whales,
We aren't giving you any guff,
And we couldn't describe a real contact anyway,
'Cause it's classified and all that stuff.

Then darkness brought the day to a close,
As we kissed the first week goodbye,
But it wasn't this parting that made it sad,
It was the thought of another week going by.

The eighth day started dark and early,
The refueling detail set before dawn,
Where's my lifejacket, I can't see,
Was heard, along with a tired yawn.

As the light slowly brightened the scene,
The refueling was quickly complete,
So the crew finally got breakfast,
It was too rough to work at all.

At the tone the time will be 2 a.m.,
The eighth day now has passed,
It brought nothing but more rain,
All were glad to see it go by fast.

The ninth day was born at twelve,
It now is two hours old,
Of course, it's still dark out,
And the wind is mighty cold.

Most of the crew is peaceful,
Snuggled in there warm beds,
While visions of land and liberty,
Haunt the dreams in their head.

On the bridge all is quiet,
Our course and speed is steady,
But if something should happen,
All will be quick to get ready.

At six o'clock reveille sounds,
And a new working day will start,
But I'd better wait to write more,
That's puttiong the horse before the cart.

The ninth day was clear and bright,
With silvery clouds and blue skys too,
Not much happened all day long,
But the sun kept shining through.

The tenth day we refueled again,
The sun was never seen at all,
Holiday routine made us like a ghost ship,
No subs answered our sonar's call.

The eleventh day was the worst so far,
A strom caught us but good,
Raging seas and forty knot winds,
Cut us down the best it could.

We tossed and rolled, once 43 degrees,
Water covered the ship I guess,
For no one was allowed out on deck,
And that morning the mess hall, was a mess.

The milk machine looked like Niagra Falls,
Spoons, forks, cups and bowls scattered about,
Many gave up trying to eat at all,
And with the slippery deck, they sled right out.

All day the storm went on,
Shaking us from engine room to signal shack,
It was too rough to work at all,
In fact it was work to stay in your rack.

The twelth day was almost as rough,
We tried refueling twice,
But each time, had to break away,
We just couldn't break the ice.

But later that day, with great effort,
We managed to get some fuel again,
The tossing seas made it rough,
Determined not to let us win.

THe thirteenth day was much the same,
Except as happy a crew was never found,
For we learned that at long last,
We were almost homeward bound.

We still don't know know when we'll arrive,
But there's one thing for certain,
It shouldn't be more than four or five days,
Untill we can draw the final curtain.

The fourteenth day set the ship on time,
For at 3 a.m. the word finally came,
That the operation was over, and
Then the C.O. added to the flame.

At 0745 or there about, ha announced,
That we were returing to port,
It was what all had been waiting to hear,
And it sure sounded good though he made it short.

Today we refuel once again,
Then replenish tomorrow, the fifteenth day,
After that it's full speed ahead,
ETA San Diego Saturday, and we are on out way.

So at long last the search has ended,
And though our success asn't too good,
We fought the storms and windy seas,
And did the best we could.

Ah, but grand it is for a sailor,
Though he roams the seas far and wide,
To feel happiness and peace of mind,
On the homeward bound rolling tide.