It's just across from Canada,
this land of snow and ice;
It's close to the Russian border,
far from the things so nice.
Thrown in with the rats and ravens,
on Adak - this is the spot;
We're doomed to serve our time,
in the land that God forgot.
Forgotten are our memories,
and it's down with the men in blue;
Up here in middle of nowhere,
seven thousand miles from you.
We sweat, we freeze and shiver,
it's more than a man can stand;
We live as though we're convicts,
just to defend our land.
We're sailors in the Navy,
earning our measly pay;
Protecting our countries millions,
for just two-fifty a day.
We're living with our memories,
while waiting for our gals;
And we pray while we're away,
they will not marry our pals.
Oh' nobody knows we're tired,
and nobody gives a damn;
At home we are forgotten,
we're the tools for Uncle Sam.
As we spend our time in the Navy,
we think of the days we miss;
Don't let the draft board get you,
and for God's sake, don't enlist.
Passing through those perly gates,
you'll hear St. Peter yell;
Come on you boy's from Adak,
you've served your hitch in Hell.