It's the old red duster for me

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It's the old red duster for me,

Found adhoc on the net: No contact details, Hope that the author will not mind reproduction in good faith. especially in tribute etc. Apparently, if sung it is to the tune of "Popye the Sailor Man" ? Reproduced out of respect and interest for all.

If sung:

It's the old red duster for me,
I've no use for the brass-hat navy;
You can keep your salutes
And your spit polished boots,
It's the old red duster for me.

IS A CHORUS...................

Words by John Archbold, of Toronto

Appears to be of World War 2 vintage, from the North Atlantic convoys:

The Old Red Duster

I remember the day
That I climbed the gangway,
My new coat and jacket so clean;
No bacon and eggs,
Till I got my sea legs,
My first trip, my god, I was green.

It's the old red duster for me,
I've no use for the brass-hat navy;
You can keep your salutes
And your spit polished boots,
It's the old red duster for me.

On many's the ship,
I've made many's the trip,
On oceans and seas, calm and wild–
Many ports, near and far,
Been thrown from the bar,
And many's the young girl beguiled.

I sailed in the war,
Like my uncle before ,
From Britain, right down to Bombay;
I shouldered my bag,
I sailed for the flag ,
The glory, the medals ... and the PAY!

I was pulled from the pool,
I was nobody's fool,
There was a jaunt up to Murmansk for me;
But the Union said, "No!
There's a fault, you can't go!"
It's the Union forever for me.

This sturdy old tramp's
Got a foc'sl that stamps,
Her plates are half sprung and they leak;
The food's always bad,
And the Master's gone mad,
And the owner's a bastard, and cheap.

I've sweated and slaved,
At this engine I've raged,
Nursing this cripple along;
For her joints, they're a-creaking,
And her glands they're a-leaking
At six knots, she's racing along.

I've been in the hold,
In the heat and the cold,
All day and all night as well;
And when my time draws near,
I've nothing to fear,
For I've been where it's hotter than hell.

So now you all know,
Why the good sailors go,
Merchant seamen to be;
If you want any more,
Like what come before,
You can bloody well sing it to me.

It's the old red duster for me,
I've no use for the brass-hat navy;
You can keep your salutes
And your spit polished boots,
It's the old red duster for me.

( "old red duster" refers to the British commercial shipping flag. )