I came to Shemya via Wake Island in 1967,

And soon realized this wasn't heaven.

The island was so small I was shocked,

And learned later it was called "The Rock".

Why did I start putting my thoughts in rhyme?

Could it be that Shemya works on ones mind ?

On that wind swept island of black sand,

You get to know your fellow man.

We were a band of brothers who work as a team,

To keep the Rivet Ball maintenance clean.

I had great admiration for the Ravens and Flight crews that year,

Because those missions close to Russia must have caused some fear.

I left Shemya in 1968 and have no regrets,

It's been 38 years but it's a Tour I will never forget.

Jack H. Satterlee (aka Sweetie)

More Poems by Sweetie: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

I'm sorry to report that Jack Satterlee, aka "Sweetie", is no longer with us as of 26 May 2012. Click Here for Jack's obituary.

Kingdon R. Hawes (Webmaster)

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