All the ships are in the harbours
With our armaments they are filled
Ever at the ready to sail
With a readiness that’s instilled
In every British fighting man
With his duty to rout the foe
Now the waiting is over
And it’s time for the armada to go
Hundred upon hundred
Of Britain’s young fighting men
Across the Channel what will they find
Will they ever come home again
And this was uppermost in their mind
As the Normandy coast they neared
The opposition far worse than anyone feared
Many were lost ‘fore they landed
And many died on the beach
In the terrible salvos of shells and mortar
Thro’ the air as they constantly screech
But undeterred our lads carried on
Through the gunfire, the smoke and the stench
And occasionally stop to take cover
To have a “fag” and a sip of water in a trench
For their bodies were aching and lips were parched
With a limited amount of transport
Each day they carried on and marched
With every day the advance that they made
Was greeted with the “locals” admiration
For the lads of the British Army
Who had come to rescue their war torn Nation
Eventually the Germans were ousted
But at a truly dreadful cost
Which was paid by the British Liberation Army
And the thousands of lives that were lost
In order to end the War of all Wars
Or so they were led to believe
But now we all know in reality
Impossible to achieve
And so if you all just close your eyes
And imagine if you can
The 6th of June 63 years ago
And the fate of the British Military Man
As I know there are those few survivors
Who trek to Normandy, year on year
And with heads that are bowed and tears in their eyes
Thinking “ Fred, Dick or Harry are you still here”
The debt that we owe is enormous
A price we cannot afford to pay
But we can bow our heads in silence
And remember the lads not here today.