"Hasson In the Box" by Wes Hasson

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"Hasson In the Box" by Wes Hasson

Postby AE on Sun Jul 16, 2006 5:25 am

This is a true story, and the names have not been changed to protect the guilty! The date was 17 Feb 1984.

(with apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer)

It looked extremely rocky for the Malmstrom crews that day;
The score stood at two busts and a "Q" ... with one check in delay.
So when Adams busted at 7, and his deputy did the same,
A pallor wreathed the features of the colonels who'd be blamed.

The sruggling bulls got up to go, leaving there the rest
With the hope that springs eternal within the crew dog breast...
For they thought, if only they'd pick Hasson--that old wily fox--
They'd lay even money down, with Hasson in the box.

But Burns preceded Hasson, and likewise so did Pope;
But the former was a pudd'n and the latter was a dope.
So on that broken crew force, a depressing silence vexed,
For there seemed but little chance, of Hasson's getting checked.

But Burns, he got a solid "Q"--the wonderment of all,
And the much despised Popie rated "HQ" overall!
And when the blood quit running, and they saw what had transpired,
There was Popie, safe with his "HQ," and Burns had finally passed.

Then from the D.O. staff, there went up a joyous yell--
It rumbled in the crew dog shops, it rattled down to Hell;
It struck upon the capsule walls, and rebounded off their locks...
For Hasson, mighty Hasson, was selected for the box.

There was ease in Hasson's manner, as he sat down in his chair;
There was pride in Hasson's bearing, for he took his rides with flair.
And when responding to the cheers, he lightly tapped the locks;
No member of the crews could doubt, "twas Hasson in the box.

Ten O-6 eyes were on him, as he smudged his hands with grease.
Five O-6 tongues applauded, when he wiped them on the seats.
Then as Wallace ground the clipboard, firm against his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Hasson's eyes, and a sneer curled Hasson's lip.

And now the first script event came, spitting through the prints,
And Hasson stood a-watchin' as the colonels gave a wince.
Close to the sturdy crew dog, the script unheeded sped;
"That ain't my style," said Hasson. "Take two!" the a**hole said.

From the cab of smokey Plexiglas, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm waves on the stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! Kill the a**hole!" someone shouted from up there;
And it's likely they'd have killed him, without Hasson in the chair.

With a smile of Christian charity, great Hasson's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he made the check go on.
He signaled the evaluator, and once more the script went by...
But Hasson still ignored it, and the checker said, "Hey guy!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened line swine, and the echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Hasson, and the crew force stood there awed.
They saw his face grow stern and bold; they heard his neck veins snap;
And they knew Hasson wouldn't take another ounce, of this evaluator's crap.

The sneer is gone from Hasson's lips; his teeth are clenched at last;
He pounds, with forceful vengeance, his T.O. on the 'glas.
And now the evaluator takes the script ... and now he lets it go ...
And now the trainer is shattered by the force of Hasson's show.

Oh, somehwere on this favored crew force, the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light.
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere crew dogs shout...
But there is no joy at Malmstrom--Mighty Hasson critted out!

~ Wes Hasson, 490 SMS
ILCS Class 31 / ALCS Class 90-2
490 SMS - 341 SMW/DOTI - 4315 CCTS - 4 ACCS - 2 ACCS
... and damned proud of every single one of my 476 nuclear alerts in SAC!
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