O is the Optimist struck by a splinter,
Happy to think he’ll be home by the winter.
P is the spotlessly uniformed Paragon,
Living in splendour on H.M.S. “Aragon.”
Q is the Questions we ask with a wail,
Do skippers like whisky, and where is our mail?
R’s the report of the latest success,
Strictly compiled for the use of the Press.
S is the Sniper; it’s also his Sickness
On finding his cover is lacking in thickness.