You Mighty Submarine
Courtesy of Hugh Smith
A 1944 Submarine Poem by Joseph F. Jones
When the last war call has sounded,

And the fleet will sail no more,
When a lasting peace is founded,
And no enemy threatens our shore.
When at last they write the story, 
and the reason for vict'ry is seen,
You will rise in honored glory,
You mighty submarine.
For you have patrolled the Atlantic,

And in the Pacfic blue,
Where a task others thought gigantic,
Was routine work for you.
They will tell of days on station,
When you knew not the meaning of fear.
And of your crew's wild elation
When they knew the enemy was near.
When the shades of night all have fallen

You must rise from your place in the deep.
For the gods of war have been calling
And now is not time to sleep.
Then from on the bridge comes a warning
"A convoy up there in sight."
There is much work to do before morning,
For your history is made at night.
"Standby on the tubes and make ready,"
"Crash dive and sound the alarm."
And every man must be steady,

If we are to come to no harm.
For there are six of them up there sailing
And they know not we lie in wait.
We must sink them all without failing,
For such is their well deserved fate.
"Fire one!--she hit on a tanker

And split her right half in two."
"Give a cheer men, I know we have sunk her.
Standby and make ready with two."
And now a cruiser is sinking.
The attack is well underway.
And every man-jack is thinking.
"Remember Pearl Harbor Day."
From our shears the old broom is flying

As we come back in from our run.
And there can be no denying.
That here was a job "well done."
And so when they finish the story
How you passed the test so suprime.
You will rise in honored glory
You mighty submarine