Maynard Jones's Navigator's Poem

by Maynard L. Jones

I am a navigator;

I have drawn the big Mercator;

I’m a cross feed operator—

Yes I am!


Why I plot our new position

Under any old condition,

And work hard on every mission—

Uncle Sam!


Now to be the big sensation

Of our little aggregation,

Take up D. R. Navigation—

It’s the thing!


They can’t get along without you;

There’s that certain thing about you;

In a pinch they dare not doubt you—

You’re the king!


Now the Pilot does the flying;

While the Bombardier is spying

And the Navigator’s crying,

“Where are we?”


Then he whips out his Weem’s Plotter

And he flips his lucky quarter,

Then looks down and sees the water—

“We’re at sea!”


You can’t be a fussy chooser;

If you are, you are the looser;

Use the E-6-B confusor

When in doubt.


It tells you where you’re goin’

Even if the weather’s snowin’;

If it’s wrong then start a-rowin’

If you’re stout.


When our plane begins a-roamin’

And the Pilot is a-foamin’,

Then we just start in a-homin’—

Right away!


So we tune in on our station

Till we reach our destination,

Where we get the big inflation—

Hip Hurray!


And now friends in conclusion,

You must pardon this intrusion;

There is really no confusion

In our ranks.


With the proper inspiration,

You can make your navigation

The just pride of our great nation—