I'M A SILENT HUNTER - (A Poem) - Page 2

GDFTigerTank · 03-23-10, 07:57 AM

Inspired by, "I'm the Galloping Ghost of the Japanese Coast".
I thought we needed a Kriegsmarine equivalent, and so here it is:

I’M A SILENT HUNTER

I’m a silent hunter and I prowl the murky deep,

My name’s a thing of nightmares sailors mutter in their sleep.

Pray we never meet, should you venture forth and sail,

For few of those who cross my path have lived to tell the tale.

Our home’s a concrete block, in the French port of Le’Harve,

From which my kin and I sortie, to make old Churchill starve.

Those Brits they used to bomb it – we just sat inside and laughed,

Till they realized their lame attempts were really rather daft.

Forty-seven souls call my steel belly home,

They’re my only company for the lonely months we’ll roam.

First I get provisioned, and tanks filled to the brim,

Then they load the eels, and check my fighting trim.

Eventually the time has come, the diesels roar to life.

The harlots wave, the band plays on, beside Herr Kaleun’s wife.

My crew waves back and promise, “they’ll make it back alright.”

Now pulling away from shore, we’ve soon moved out of sight.

We were only two days out before I got to bite,

Into a little rusty freighter off the scenic Isle of Wight.

One week later, undeterred, I cruised the Irish coast,

Three tankers which we found there, I happily turned to toast.

Happy Times await us all out in the vast Atlantic.

Fat convoys, panicked crews, destroyer escorts frantic!

The smell of burning diesel oil permeates the air,

Wherever our valiant wolf-pack brings its guns to bear.

But yesterday we lost U-20, to a flying boat,

It came down quick, dropped two bombs, and left nothing afloat.

A few days before they ran down Willie by his periscope,

The oil slick we later found indeed leaves little hope.

Slowly things are changing - good friends do not come back.

Their empty berths are filled with strangers, good at talking smack.

That will change quite quickly when the depth-charges start to fall,

And with some luck we’ll win this game, ere death can take us all.

I’m a silent hunter and I prowl the murky deep,

My name’s a thing of nightmares sailors mutter in their sleep.

Pray we never meet, should you venture forth and sail,

For few of those who cross my path have lived to tell the tale.

~GDFTigerTank (2010)

03-23-10, 07:57 AM	#1
GDFTigerTank Machinist's Mate Join Date: Apr 2009 Posts: 121 Downloads: 44 Uploads: 0	I'M A SILENT HUNTER - (A Poem) Inspired by, "I'm the Galloping Ghost of the Japanese Coast". I thought we needed a Kriegsmarine equivalent, and so here it is: I’M A SILENT HUNTER I’m a silent hunter and I prowl the murky deep, My name’s a thing of nightmares sailors mutter in their sleep. Pray we never meet, should you venture forth and sail, For few of those who cross my path have lived to tell the tale. Our home’s a concrete block, in the French port of Le’Harve, From which my kin and I sortie, to make old Churchill starve. Those Brits they used to bomb it – we just sat inside and laughed, Till they realized their lame attempts were really rather daft. Forty-seven souls call my steel belly home, They’re my only company for the lonely months we’ll roam. First I get provisioned, and tanks filled to the brim, Then they load the eels, and check my fighting trim. Eventually the time has come, the diesels roar to life. The harlots wave, the band plays on, beside Herr Kaleun’s wife. My crew waves back and promise, “they’ll make it back alright.” Now pulling away from shore, we’ve soon moved out of sight. We were only two days out before I got to bite, Into a little rusty freighter off the scenic Isle of Wight. One week later, undeterred, I cruised the Irish coast, Three tankers which we found there, I happily turned to toast. Happy Times await us all out in the vast Atlantic. Fat convoys, panicked crews, destroyer escorts frantic! The smell of burning diesel oil permeates the air, Wherever our valiant wolf-pack brings its guns to bear. But yesterday we lost U-20, to a flying boat, It came down quick, dropped two bombs, and left nothing afloat. A few days before they ran down Willie by his periscope, The oil slick we later found indeed leaves little hope. Slowly things are changing - good friends do not come back. Their empty berths are filled with strangers, good at talking smack. That will change quite quickly when the depth-charges start to fall, And with some luck we’ll win this game, ere death can take us all. I’m a silent hunter and I prowl the murky deep, My name’s a thing of nightmares sailors mutter in their sleep. Pray we never meet, should you venture forth and sail, For few of those who cross my path have lived to tell the tale. ~GDFTigerTank (2010) Last edited by GDFTigerTank; 03-23-10 at 08:21 AM.