Mortal Glory Poem by John F. McCullagh

They were outnumbered and outgunned off the Island of Samar.
It was October twenty fifth, in nineteen forty four.
Mac Arthur's marines in Leyte Gulf would be without a prayer
if not for the crews of Taffy three and, of course, the fog of war.
The Japanese had the advantage; in crew, in ships and guns.
How could Taffy stop the surface fleet of the mighty rising sun?
The Samuel B Roberts made smoke and faced the foe.
Three destroyers joined that escort ship as the two fleets traded blows.
Paul Carr at the forward gun let loose a rain of shell.
The Sammy B. deked and swerved as fast as she could go.
She was closing on a cruiser, nearly in torpedo range
When the foe-man loosed a heavy round and her fantail burst into flames.
"Fire" Captain Copeland screamed and they let torpedoes fly.
He watched through his binoculars as they snaked towards that ship
And every crewman still alive cheered when they scored a hit.
The destroyers and the escort had bought two hours' time.
Yet all four attackers were in flames and destined for the brine.
The call went out "Abandon ship" to the crew of the Sammy B.
Paul Carr lay dying at his post as she sank beneath the sea.
The admiral of the Japanese was shaken by the sight
Of Two cruisers and a battleship sent limping from the fight.
He signaled his ships to withdraw; he dared to do no more.
He reckoned Halsey must be close and settled for a draw.
Three days and nights they waited, the men of the Sammy B.
Until those few who had survived were rescued from the sea.
As long as sailors go to sea and hold our banner high
Recall the mortal glory of these men who fought and died.
As long as the Navy sails the deep and serves for Liberty,
Honor these men who faced long odds and won the victory.