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Sailors, Rest Your Oars
In recognition of the Bergall crew who served her so well and have accepted their final orders, we salute you.

There is a port of no return, where ships
May ride at anchor for a little space
And then, some starless night the cable slips,
Leaving an eddy at the mooring place...
Gulls, veer no longer. Sailor, rest your oar.
No tangled wreckage will be washed ashore.

Leslie Nelson Jennings
"Lost Harbor"

There are stories told about knights of old and the shooting of Dan McGrew
And the classic tale of the great white whale still thrills us through and through.
There’s Farragut and John Paul but the saltiest of them all
Were the boys in blue from World War Two who answered Freedom’s Call.

Now I won’t boast so I’ll drink a toast to the boys who went down under.
With Navy pride they fought and died when their boats were ripped asunder.
They learned their trade, our debt they paid in the world beneath the sea
And there they sleep in waters deep, a part of history.

Those noble ships with sonar blips once fought their way to Glory
And the men inside, because they died, left none to tell their story.
Proud Argonaut, you had your shot, you and the Amberjack,
‘Twas near Rabaul you gave your all and never more came back.

Pompano, you and Runner, too, were lost in forty-three.
Your gallant crew went down with you, defending liberty.
The Pickerel too, the sleek Wahoo, the Grampus and the Herring,
The Albacore, all lost in the war, have taken their last bearing.

So many more, subs by the score, went to their watery grave,
In silence deep they lie asleep, the young lads and the brave,
But this I know, somewhere below lie those who paid the price,
Our debt is paid because they made the final sacrifice.

A Poem by: Robert L. Harrison Oct. 16, 1997 Greenfield, Indiana

A SAILOR’S PRAYER
by Bob Harrison

Oh, Lord, I’m sick and tired and old and my strength is going too,
But ere I leave this earthly shell, I’d like one thing from You.
You know I sailed the seven seas for thirty years or so,
And I’d like to make one more patrol before I have to go.

I’d like to walk the main deck of a Navy fightin’ ship,
And feel the salt spray on me as the bow begins to dip
Beneath the wave of stormy seas, oh, Lord, You caused to be
A peril to seafaring men who go down in ships to sea.

Lord, I want to hear the throb of diesels one more time
And take my turn at standin’ watch and cleanin’ out the slime
From the bilges, as a punishment for failin’ to obey
The Captain’s standin’ orders that were posted for the day.

And, Lord, I’d like to hear the bosun’s whistle once again
As he calls the crew to breakfast, or in the evening when
It’s time for evening movies and the starboard watch is set
And the port side knows by heart the movie that they’ll get!

I’d like to stand on topside and watch the moon upon the sea,
And wonder at the beauty, and how all things came to be,
The morning comes, the sun breaks through, another awesome sight,
To see the shimmer on the waves, like Your Eternal Light.

So when my cruise is over and I soar to heights unknown,
And I kneel before You, Lord, as You sit on Judgement’s Throne,
As You contemplate some small reward that you think applies to me,
Just assign me to Your fastest ship on Your Eternal Sea.

Bob Harrison
March 12, 1998
Greenfield, Indiana

This page is dedicated to the memories of the men that served on the USS Bergall and have received their final orders.

Gentlemen, we salute you and thank you for your service!