From the halls of Montezuma
To the shores of Tripoli,
We fight our country's battles
On the land as on the sea.
Beyond the International Date Line, where it is always tomorrow, Wake lifts itself in three desolate sandy specks in the midst of a watery nowhere. A Clipper stop on Pan Am's famed trans-Pacific run, it boasted a small hostel, an imposing concrete air-raid shelter recently built, a catch basin for rain water, a hydroponic tank for growing vegetables, which the coral sand refuses to nurture.
Our flag's unfurled to every breeze
From dawn to setting sun.
We've fought in every clime and...
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