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He's put on K.P. detail and many dish he's dried
He's also learned to make beds - a broom he sure can guide.
He's peeled a million onions and twice as many spuds.
He also spends his leisure time in washing out his duds.
Now, honey, take this tip from me - I hand it on to you
Just grab yourself a Seabee, for there's nothing he can't do
And when he gets to Heaven - to Saint Peter he will tell
A Seabee, Sir, reporting - I've served my time in Hell.
As a native born Virginian, I didn't agree with everything said in these two poems, but they still tell a pretty good story of Camp Peary.
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