To the TUNE; WAVE THE CRIMSON" Words by Lieut. (jg) Sidney I. Simon
Class 1-43 Communications
Oh, they spent us to dear old Harvard
And they said they'd make us men.
They vowed we'd soon be gold braids
Worthy if the USN.
We studies and marched for hours
To make eight well-drilled platoons,
But despite all these noble efforts
We are just dit-happy goons.
At the blinker, we sure are a stinker
Typing has us constantly griping
Quizzes are to us always fizzes,
We only shine on pay day!
Oh, we're trained for communications,
Engineers of radio.
But the WAVES from Radcliffe are the
Only Navy things we know.
Old John Harvard gets quite seasick
At the eight of Company C,
And he sighs as his face turns crimson:
"What a sorry Navy 'twill be!"
Read more in News
Quincy Jones Talks to Crowd
