(To the tune of "Bless Them All")

They asked the Wisconsin to come to the West Coast,
But in port she said she would hold.
She gave us the reason--"This isn't the season,
Our steam heated bridge is too cold!"

They asked for the Rogers to come to the HUK group,
But 95 let out a roar;
"There'lll be no more urgin'---For Bingstad's a virgin,
And Aggie's been diddled before!"

Bless'em all, bless'em all, bless'em all.
The long hulls, the short hulls and all.
Bless all the Ensigns who don't earn their keep,
Bless all the Skippers who don't get no sleep.
So we'll give a WELL DONE to them all,
As into the harbor we crawl.
There'll be no paraders--we're not aviators,
So cheer up my lads bless'em all!!

They started a mission for DesDiv Eleven,
It meant out to sea they would be.
The alarrm was terrific--so to be specific,
Old Aggie replaced them you see!

The Perkins succeeded in burning a boiler,
The Parks went aground with a crunch.
The Craig and the Orleck--stayed in port to frolic,
So Aggie replaced the whole bunch!

Bless'em all, Bless'em all, Bless'em all.
The battleships, cruisers and all.
Bless all the officers of ComCruDesPac,
They don't give a damn if we ever get back.
So we bow to the might of them all,
As barely they answer the call.
Through hell and damnation--and that situation,
The Christmas and New Year's Eve Ball!

They asked DesRon One to supply them a plane guard,
For Big Dipper's Flight Ops one day.
Without hesitation came his nomination,
"Send Aggie--she's West Pac's best lay!"

They said it's too rough for the Fly boys to fly off.
It's dark and the sea is too cruel,
With no salutation--and no preparation,
'Twas time for the small boys to fuel!

Bless'em all, Bless'em all, Bless'em all.
The brass hats, the white hats and all,
Bless all the sailors who go out to sea,
Bless all the women that they never see.
So we give a farewell to'em all--as out for more training we crawl.
We'll be back on some day--and sail on the next day.
And never have time for a brawl.

The Perkins complete with a spankin' new boiler,
Was sent out to sea 'gainst her will.
The Fast Task Force cruisin',
Proved rightfully bruisin',
Twas back to the club on the hill!

As Big Dipper leaves us, to sail back to CONUS,
We shed a sad tear and we bust. But it's not 'cause she's leaving
That we feel like grieving
we just wish to hell it was us!

Contributed by Lieutenant Jack Carney