In two small ships they sailed into history,
despatched in secret their duty, a mystery.
Over the equator these lively crews sailed,
the best of the best were how they were hailed.
Travelling afar to a distant sun drenched isle,
the two small ships covered mile after mile.
A new day dawned over the Pacific Ocean,
with more than a few suffering sickness through motion.
The sun rose high over an expectant flotilla,
as hands were briefed then piped to dinner,
as both ships companies suppressed a grim shiver.
They should all sail homeward, but had somebody blundered?
The captain in his cabin sat listless and wondered.

They were there to bear witness, to take up the slack,
to show our allegiance to the blue Union Jack!
The detonation was bright, as bright as the day,
the sight that they shared remains with them this day.
They cruised close in to, in fine naval style,
to lie in silent witness at less than a mile!
Turning their backs as they were ordered to do,
they stood in grim witness, not one ship but two!
Covering their eyes, turned away from the blast,
through those fateful days their futures were cast.
They all sailed home the nearly six hundred,
but had someone above them actually blundered?
As the mushroom cloud grew and flashed and it thundered!

The Captain stared forrard with grim satisfaction,
the men at their stations, the ship closed up for action.
At the masthead waved the white naval ensign,
the hearts of then men hiding deep apprehension.
They sailed on as ordered and into the blast,
the purple hued cloud towering o’er the mast.
Keep to the weather the Captain ordered aloud,
steaming through ground zero, beneath the burgeoning cloud.
They all sailed home the nearly six hundred,
but someone had erred, had someone blundered?
As the mushroom cloud grew and flashed and it thundered!

Sailing into history the devils breath they inhaled,
over calm waters the two small ships sailed.
They crew stood at ease to watch in silent awe,
as slowly, so slowly they sailed into his maw!
Standing exposed on those fateful days,
each man aboard shared the experience his own way.
With the bones in their hands showing blue in the blast,
these brave men watched, their feelings aghast!
Seabirds lay dying, in uncountable numbers
as the mushroom cloud climbed and flashed and it thundered.
Surely no man should be here, surely someone had blundered?

For sixty long years these men have waited, their health compromised,
their children’s futures slated!
No victory parade, no recognition of service,
Past Governments attitudes wicked and perverted!
But from such sacrifice is born a bond of emotion,
a bond of true brotherhood born upon a far flung Ocean.
Sixty years on they number less than a hundred,
all that remain of that noble nearly six hundred.
They all sailed home the nearly six hundred,
but surely, surely someone had blundered!

They had received their orders, or orders gone astray,
but for them it spelt death in many a horrible way!
And so they sailed home on a sea of such beauty,
to sail into history having performed meritorious duty.
They all sailed home the nearly six hundred,
but someone had erred, had someone blundered?
As the mushroom cloud grew and flashed and it thundered.
Their country has forgotten them, their honour has been plundered,
as we all remember the bravery of the nearly six hundred!

Under that cloud our freedom was won,
a freedom bought with the lives of each and every one!
We each owe them a debt, a day of remembrance,
a day when good men should be cared for without hindrance!
A cloud of ill will now lies barring their way,
a cloud without silver lining, a dismal cloud of dismay.
Could someone have blundered? Should someone pay?
Were these men used in a most ignoble way?
They all sailed home the nearly six hundred,
but someone had erred, had deliberately blundered,
as the mushroom cloud grew and flashed and it thundered.