He left us at Dutch Harbor and took another way
To Berkeley’s Alma Mater on San Francisco’s Bay.
Messrs. Sweeney next and Myers, young men of good repute
The latter on his bugle would oft delight to toot
At any hour at any time either by night or day
Reveille, Mess call, any old thing
He’d lug her out and play.
He left with Eakle much to our regret
And in my dreams I hear reveille yet.
Now I’ve roasted and I’ve toasted these fellows good and true