Don't speak to me of heroes until you've heard the tale Of Britain's Merchant Seaman who sailed through storm and gale To keep those lifelines open in our nation's hour of need When a tyrant cast a shadow across our island breed Captain's, greasers, cabin boys, mates and engineers heard the call of duty and cast away there fears They stoked those hungry boilers and stood behind the wheel while cooks and stewards manned the guns on coffins made of steel They moved in icy convoys from Scapa to Murmansk and crossed the western ocean never seeking thanks They sailed the South Atlantic where raiders lay in wait and kept the food lines open from Malta to the Cape Tracked by silent U-Boat's which hunted from below shelled by mighty cannons and fighters flying low They clung to burning lifeboats where the sea had turned to flame and watched there shipmates disappear to everlasting fame I speak not of a handful but 30,000 plus some whose names we'll never know in whom we placed our trust They never knew the honour of medals on their chests or marching bands and victory and glory to the rest The ocean is their resting place, their tombstone is the wind, the sea birds cry their last goodbye to family and friends Freighters, troopship, liners and tankers by the score fishing boats and coasters 2,000 ships and more, flew the proud red duster as they sank beneath the waves and took those countless heroes to lonely ocean graves There legacy is freedom to those who hold it dear, to walk with clear horizons and never hide in fear. So when you speak of heroes remember those at sea, for Britain's Merchant navy who died to keep us free.
