Hobart Glen Kelly, S2c
I am the terror of the seven seas,
Surely you have heard or read of
I am the Captain of the destroyer
I can lick any Japanese Fleet
I have an iron jaw and nerves of
Fear is a stranger that I never
I take sure death trips with a one
The crew knows me simply as “Old
The worst battle in history of the Navy or Marines
Was the rip-roaring battle of the
We sighted the enemy fleet just
after dawn at 7:05
And by 7:10 their guns sprang
I yelled at the quarter master to
ring the battle bell,
Set the speed at 25 knots and
charge like hell.
I made ready the torpedoes and let
go my smoke
The air was so heavy, I thought I
Three of my sister ships were
sinking from sight
But “Old Suicide” never runs from
I looked for my Allies but they
were all gone,
It was up to “Old Suicide” to
fight them alone.
The enemy fleet surrounded me and
kept me there
While sixteen inch shells were
parting my hair.
I began to shake and I began to
I thought of my ship that would
never reach home.
I had a date with Old Davy Jones
That grinning old man was after my
He danced with glee at the
And shaking nerves of “Old
I began to tremble and I began to swear
Cold sweat streamed down my
Escape seemed quite impossible to
“Old Suicide” was about to sink at
The ship was leaking from stern to
But she managed to stay afloat
Then the smoke screen lifted and I
saw the shell
They were falling around me
thicker than hell.
I looked to the north and to my
A dozen Jap ships were blocking
Then I looked to the south and saw
light and hope,
Only one cruiser was blocking me
With full speed toward her and a
I gave last minute orders to my
“Set your torpedoes, Son, and may
your aim be true,
If you miss her, my boy, we’ll
never get through.”
The deadly torpedoes sped away
over the foam
My hope was all with them and they
were now going home.
There were two explosions as they
hit her broadsides.
She made two mighty lunges, then
shuddered and died.
The fool Japs may stop the rising tide
But they can never stop “Old
Yes, “Old Suicide” is still alive
And still the skipper of the 405.
He is always up in the middle of
Always itching and hunting for a
When the crew is tired and all
You can still hear him yelling,
“There are boogies overhead!!”
Written by: Hobart G. Kelly
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Submitted by Thomas Fugate