AFTER DISHONOR, DEATH - Dick Raymond's October Poem



                                 AFTER DISHONOR, DEATH!
            "Following the capture of USS Pueblo (AGER-2) in January 1968, by North Korean naval units, it was towed through international waters from the port of Wonsan to a final berth on the Potong River at their capital of Pyongyang, where it is now exhibited as a tourist attraction, part of the so-called "Fatherland Liberation War Museum". -- News item

            There's a little gray ship moored at Pyongyang, once part of our Seventh Fleet—
            Surrendered intact on the high seas, off Korea's eastern coast,
            She stands for Humiliation, a mark of our sad defeat,
            A triumphant trophy of Cold War, our enemy's arrogant boast.
                        SINK THE PUEBLO!
            She'd failed in her primary mission, of collecting radio news,
            Surrounded by enemy gunboats, she was yielded without a fight,
            Her captain and those aboard her met the fate of all captured  crews,
            Of torture and brutal treatment, and none to redeem their plight.
                        SINK THE PUEBLO!
            The Navy failed in their mission, to provide a protective shield
            For a lonely and helpless vessel, so slow and so lightly armed—
            No aircraft came to defend her, and so she was forced to yield,
            Her three little guns stayed covered, lest an enemy might be harmed.
                        SINK THE PUEBLO!
            There's only Death for Dishonor, like Lucretia, after her rape—
            She accused her ravisher, Sextus, then stabbed herself to the heart,
            The Pueblo was stripped and ravished, she's a hulk, in pitiful shape,
            Alone in the midst of foemen, and no one to take her part.
                        SINK THE PUEBLO!
            There's a remedy, though—it's handy, and a lesson to pirate goons,  
            Would accomplish a decommission, and salvage a spark of pride—           
            Send a squadron of Navy fighters to lance her with six Harpoons,
            She might send a grateful bubble as she parted her lines, and died.
                        SINK THE PUEBLO!
            The lesson's not lost on captains—her skipper's career was toast,
            However they glossed it over, whatever the public thinks,
            A black N hangs on the Navy, and the Admiral kept his post--
            Nail your colors fast to the masthead, and fight her until she sinks!
                       SINK THE PUEBLO!

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