The villages and towns that dot the Channel coast,
Were once the meeting place of two opposing hosts,
Where now pleasure boats bob gently upon silvered waves,
Good then met evil to set free Nazi slaves.

Gentle waves lap softly upon the pristine shore,
Where a scant life time ago men were engaged in war,
Rivulets of water course across the sandy bed,
And wash away all traces where dying men had bled.

Children play among the dunes, eager and alive,
Where their grandfathers had sought refuge, from the enemy bombers dive,
Games of catch and go hide and seek, are played with happy yells,
And take the place of exploding bombs and whistling mortar shells.

But the sacrifices of the past will not have been in vain,
If the children of tomorrow can play and not fear pain,
And the soldier who for their today, his yesterday he gave,
Can rest content, and sleep in peace in his lonely grave.