To get home quick, you know.
Anxiously watching specks on the horizon
And the next six verses were even worse than those two.
The smudge turned out to be an English merchantman, eastbound, as scared of the Germans as we were. There isn't a speck on the horizon in any direction, and with Aden almost in sight, in exuberance of spirit I wrote one more verse:
So whoop, hurrah, don't look askance,
He's sailing o'er the sea;
Doggone a man who'll take no chance,