Many a sailor found much idle time while at Midway Island. Some used that time to contemplate their fate and to put those thoughts into prose or poetry. The Land that God Forgot is one of those poems.
The Land that God Forgot
Just across the ocean,
It’s just a little spot.
Where we’re doomed too spend our time,
In the land that God forgot.
Down with the gooney,
and boatswain bird,
We are gallant men in blue.
Right in the middle of nowhere,
Six thousand miles from you.
Swab’s of the Seventh Fleet,
We dream of a lovely miss.
Oh too hold her in our arms again,
Just to get a treasured kiss.
There in the cold and there in the heat,
Our boots are filled with sand.
Yet we’re not classified as convicts,
But defenders of our land.
No one knows were living,
And no one gives a damn.
At home we’re soon forgotten,
Cause we belong to Uncle Sam.
The time we spend on Midway,
Is the time we’ll never miss.
So let the draft get you boys,
For god’s sake don’t enlist.
But when those pearly gates,
Come into a sailor’s view.
Our frowns will turn to laughter,
For the joke will be on you.
For once inside of Heaven,
You’ll hear St. Peter Yell.
Fall out you men from Midway
You’ve spent your time in Hell.
Arthur Unknown.