(sung to the tune of the Green Beret's)
Fighting Trainers from the sky
Fearless men who'd swamp or die
Men who mean just what they say
Keep your shoes on every day.
In the field we check our gear
For the rips that the outpost fear
If it's marked in read then it's ok
But if its not you'll dearly pay.
Trained to train by Stu's (John L.'s) own hand
Trained to live off natures land
One hundred men swim test today
Around the clock we earn our pay.
Carry axes in their sheaths
Hudson bay bread breaks you teeth
Wear your filthy rotten shirts
Trail food gives you Hershey squirts
Back at the base Dear Omar waits
His party trainer's met his fate
He has swamped for those oppressed
Leaving heard his last request
Put paddles crossed on my son's chest
Make him one of the Canoe Base's best
He'll be a man who'll fight to train
But keep him away if you want him sane.
Fighting trainer's at the Dinks
Whose turn now to buy the drinks
Prices here are not so steep
But we trainers are all so cheap
Stagger back at half past three
Following the path of Gentry
Next day comes the aching head
and a crew that cherry red.
Know for sure you're not in heaven
your base site is past eleven
your red crew is flaming fine
and your put-in's at nine.
Clear the base and now your through
take a snooze in the canoe
Evening comes 'fore you're awake
Your crew is lost in the wrong lake
Dinner makes you choke and cough
thirteen times for stroganoff
return to base next day at ten
and you start it all over again
If you join our merry bunch
then your head is out to lunch
It's a snap to train
If you surgically remove your brain