But what about the other guys who came after World War Two,
The ones who fought beneath the waves wearing Navy Blue?
Theirs was the Silent Service and for that they got no thanks
Unlike the guys who flew the fighters and the ones who manned the tanks.

Their job was a stealthy one down beneath the ocean wave,
Constant vigil was required to avoid a watery grave.
But things go wrong on Navy ships with no hint of alarm,
And when they do on submarines, the crew has “bought the farm.”

I know some men who sailed the seas, both Pacific and Atlantic,
‘Neath the bergs of the Arctic where things can get quite frantic.
There’s Sid and Dex and Joe and Tex and another one called SOB
And then there’s Ron and Bill and Don and even one named COB.

The list goes on, another Ron, he of the Warshot fame,
A guy named Chet, and old Ramjet who played the sonar game,
There’s Jim and Fred, one called Red and another one named Bill
Throttleman, also Dan, and I think there’s one named Will.

There’s CoolBob, another Rob, Bob Perry and ol’ Whalen
Another Joe, and ol’ Skibo, my memory is a-failin’.
There’s Len and Ken , John Cole and Ben and finally John Kill
John Wynn and Roy, and old Cowboy and two by the name of Gil.

These are the boys who went to sea and came back home as men
But there were some who went to sea and were never seen again.
You know them well, you bubbleheads, the ones you called shipmate.
And when they died, you died some, too, and thus you shared their fate.

Now comes the time for each of us to thank you who held the line
In what we called the Cold War, a war of a different kind,
And so, I ask you people who for long have stood so mute,
Please give thanks to your protectors, altogether: "HAND SALUTE!!"