A visit from the Sr. Board Member

‘Twas the night before ORSE

By TFT

'Twas the night before ORSE and all through the sub
not a sailor was cramming, not even a NUB.
Program binders were stacked in the wardroom with dread,
knowing that the board members would soon be misled.

The Coners were nestled all snug in their racks,
dreaming of Liberty soon dancing in their laps.
AENG still in his drill hat, and I in my shoes,
had just settled our brains for a quick little snooze.

I awoke from my slumber to quite a big fright,
How long did I nod off; did I sleep through the night?
Away from my stateroom I flew like a flash,
No time for belts, my TLD hung by its lash. 

I arrived in the control room and seized the scope.
Unphased by the protest of the off-going dope,
I scanned in low power, anxious of what I’d see.
To my horror I found a tug alongside me.

Five plump men lazily standing there on the deck,
Moments away from being a pain in my neck.
Faster than a fast leak, I turned and headed aft.
“ENTERING” I exclaimed and shouted at the staff:

“Now EOOW! Now Watch Sup! Throttleman and Room Sup!
Now RO and EO and now Phone Talker too!
Maintain all inviol’te, from the shaft to smooth pawl!
Now flip the switch! Flip the switch! Flip the switch all!”

I dashed back to the cone as quick as I came.
Passing through the tunnel, as the circuit exclaimed
with four rings of the bell and the word “arriving.”
There was no turning back, my chest began writhing.

From under the ladder, I heard on the hull
The trudging and flagging of each little paw.
As I tilted my head to perchance glimpse the sky,
“Down-ladder” the Senior Board Member did cry.

He twitched and jerked and struggled to come in.
With a thud he fell down and the exam now begin.
There lying on the floor, my old foe, my new guest..
His uniform remained spotless and starched and pressed.

He stood up and made haste, there was no time to waste.
The audit/surveillance binders were the showcase!
Scouring the binders with his awful minions,
They wrote their comments, some are facts—most opinions.

Each member without regard for operations,
Records how we fell short of their expectations.
Their hands begin to cramp and their pens running dry,
They head aft and go find what else is awry.  

They demand we provide them with their armament,
A flashlight, a mirror, and a subordinate.
We head straight to the ship’s service hydraulic plant.
There is no good that can come from this–it just can’t!

Its design is faulty, it leaks like a mesh screen.
The inspector now pointing, “Why is this not clean?”
Before my rebuttal, he goes behind a brace.
O’ surprise! He finds dust in a hard-to-reach place.

The inspection is over, I feel no relief.
I just want to know how we did in the debrief.
After many hours of secret deliberation,
He proclaims, "Your team reflects well on this Nation,

But we did find a few drops of oil around,
plus we need to bring the average ORSE score down"
Then I heard him exclaim, 'ere he hopped on the tug,
"I'll be back for your keys, and to all a humbug!"