Surfman Badge information

When the Lord breathes His wrath above the bosom of the waters,
When the rollers are a-pounding on the shore,
When the mariner's a-thinking of his wife and son's and daughters,
And the little home he'll, maybe see no more;

When the bars are white and yeasty, and the shoals are all a-frothing,
When the Nor'easter's cutting like a knife;
Through the seethin' roar and screech he's patroling on the beach,
The Government's hired man for saving life.

He's a-struggling with the gusts that strike and bruise him like a hammer;
He's a-fighting sand that stings like swarmin' bees,
He's a-listening through the whirlwind and the thunder and the clamor,
A-listening for the signal from the seas.

He's a-breaking ribs and muscles launching lifeboats in the surges,
He's dripping wet and chilled in every bone,
He's a-bringing men from death, back to flesh and blood and breath,
And never stops to think about his own.

He's a pulling at an oar that is freezing to his fingers,
he's a-clinging to the rigging of a wreck.
He knows destructions nearer every minute that he lingers;
But it doesn't seem to worry him a speck.

He is draggin' draggled corpes from the clutches of the combers,
The kind of job a common man would shirk;
But he takes them from the waves and fit them for graves,
And he thinks it's all included in his work.

He is a rigger, rower, swimmer, sailor, doctor, undertaker,
And he's good at every one of them the same;
And he risks his life for others in the quicksand and the breakers,
And a thousand wives and mothers bless his name.

He's an angel dressed in oilskins; he's a saint in the "Sou'wester,"
He's a pluck as they come, or ever can;
He's a hero born and bred, but it hasn't swelled his head,
For he's just the U.S. Government's hired man.

 — Training Center Yorktown^[1]