We Will Always Remember Them
When Britain seeks to carve it's name on History's Bloodstained Roll,
It can point in pride to it's Submarines, "Dear God", you took your toll.
It was said they were damned un-English, a weapon to be abhorred
a world where you fight for your freedom that's a view you just cannot afford.
So in trying to balance life's budget, when we sit down and add up the cost,
up on the list is the price we paid, eighty two boats that we lost.
The first on the roll was the Oxley then Seahorse, Undine and Starfish
Thistle, Tarpon and
Sterlet, then Unity and Seal was God's wish.
One after the other went Odin, then Grampus, Orpheus and Shark
The Salmon, the Phoenix and then came the Thames,
no wonder the future looked dark.
The Narwhal, the Oswald and Spearfish and little H49 too
The Rainbow, Triad and Swordfish, our country was paying it's due.
Regulus, Triton, Snapper and Usk, Undaunted, Umpire as well
Union, Cachalot, P33, all sailing their own road to hell.
lost P32 and the Tetrarch, the Perseus and the P31,
The Triumph, the Tempest and P38, and sadly the list just goes on.
There was P39 and P36, Pandora and Upholder
Urge, Olympus and P514, Thorn and Talisman, long overdue.
Unique, Unbeaten and Utmost, then the turn of P222.
P48 and P311, Lord is this what you want us to do?
Then came Vandal, Tigris, Thunderbolt, and Turbulent, Regent as well.
With P615, Splendid, Sahib, all bowing
to fate's awful knell.
The Untamed, the Parthian and Saracen, the X Crafts 9, 8 and 5
Followed by 6, then 7, then 10. Yes Lord they'd done their last dive.
Usurper, the Trooper, the next was Simoom, X22 also was lost.
And the ex-German Graph then made her last dive, we earned freedom at terrible cost.
Stonehenge, Syrtis and Sickle, please God just how many more?
The Strategem went to her resting place, on that far distant, hostile shore.
so near the end of the Roll Out, our White Ensign proud but Half Mast
Right up to the end our Submarines paid, for Porpoise was the last.
Each year we gather
at Blockhouse and ask that their Memories be Blessed
For we stand proud and tall as "Old Comrades", with our Dolphins pinned on our chest.
So we who survived
now pray to our God, "Let our boys grow up to be men.
If we paid the price unflinchingly, Dear Lord don't ask them to pay it again."
by Chief Petty Officer
Coxswain George Luck DSM
George Luck was a member of the Merseyside Submariners Association and served in boats from 1941 to 1947 being on the "Rorqual", "P217",
"P339". "Taurus" and "Affray". He died in May 2007 at 85 years of age.
For Diesel Boat Sailors
They say we have it easy, and maybe they are right.
We've never felt a depth charge,
we've never seen a fight.
We don't stink of deisel, we wash our clothes each week.
The nukes will make us tons of water, our hull it doesn't leak.
The diesel boat sailors have their fun, they say no bomber's cool,
"Hey squid can I come on your boat and swim around your pool?"
They say we're soft, we'll never know, just what their boats went through
to end a war they didn't start and wish they never knew.
Yes it's true, our
fish stay dry, none pass the outer doors.
But wasn't that the final goal of The War to End All Wars?
So listen now, and listen well, we stand our watches well
and if the time should ever come, we too, will face our hell.
You did your job, you've earned our thanks, and the lessons that you taught
are passed to each and every every nub that thinks that he's so hot.
His quals will be as tough as when you first filled out your card.
sigs will sully what was meant to be damned hard.
For when those dolphins are tacked on, you know he'll beam with pride.
And pass on those traditions of the men
who fought and died.
We share the tales we've heard from you, sometimes we change the names.
But don't you ever start to think, we're out here playing games.
We might not have to close and shoot, a ship that's in our scope.
Our mission differs from what you had, and so, you'd better hope,
in our life, your children's too, in fact, for long past that,
that we will never get flash traffic with a message that
cause birds, not fish, to swim away
and bring their judgement down
on an enemy that we've not seen, nor pinged with sonar sound.
For if we ever fire those shots and bring the fury of the sun
to those who threaten you and yours, then our hell has just begun.
You came back heroes to your homes, maybe greeted with a band.
But we'll come back to nothing, no homes, no kids, no land.
For our war will be the one that really is the end.
It started with the fires of hell
that we were told to send.
So go ahead and have your fun, we'll take on your best shot,
but then go home, and go to sleep, our job is finished not.
We'll just go on making more patrols, not much to do out here.
Four knots to nowhere, punching holes in an ocean, without fear.