大象传媒

The British Third Division

When this bitter war is over and the guns have ceased to roar,
And the gallant lads who fought and won are marching home once more,
When the tattered flag of freedom flies proudly top its mast,
And the tyrants who besmirched its name have met their doom at last,
When the graves of fallen heroes in liberated lands,
Are tended with special care by sympathetic hands,
Then will be told the story of the deeds of fearless lads,
Who made the British Third division 'Monty's iron clads.

They sailed away on D-Day and left their native land,
To be the first to set their feet on Normandy's shingle sand.
For them began the bitter fight on the beach at Oustraham,
Yet yard by yard and mile by mile they fought their way to Caen,
Where round the fair French City they faced a fearless foe,
They fought the best that Germany had and gave them blow for blow.
They fought and died as heroes do, ignored the H*ns derision,
And proved the worth and greatness of the British Third Division.

Then on to shattered Caumont, to Vessey and to Vire,
Their courage was magnificent, an example to inspire.
No thought of self, no holding back, no respite could they take,
They simply did their duty; their honour was at stake.
From victory on to victory they trod the hardest road,
Their comrades falling round them, on they grimly strode.
Theirs is a glorious epic; they forged with bold incision,
The withdrawal of a brutal force before the British Third Division.

When finally their enemies held fast within a trap,
Were doomed and cut to pieces in the famous Falaise gap,
Our heroes rested, paused a while to heal their many scars,
And then began the chase once more of those whose God is Mars
Through Belgium with great skill and speed they helped to smash the H*n,
With lightening stroke and counter-stroke they kept him on the run,
鈥榗ross Hollands dykes, canals and streams they fought their bitter way,
The British Third Division pushed towards airborne men at bay.

From Holland in to Germany, their goal was then in sight,
They hacked through mighty barriers and bloody was the fight,
The Seigfried line's behind them now; the Rhine is crossed with ease,
But bitter was the struggle for the little town of Rees.
The scene is changing daily now as giant strides they make,
All opposition brushed aside as Bremen they must take.
For that the brave young men are taking up positions,
And in the morning in that town are the British Third Division.

From Warwickshire and Lincolnshire these men so strong and true,
From Middlesex and Shropshire and dear old Norfolk too,
From Lancashire and Yorkshire, no war of roses here,
But all together, side by side, their path of duty clear,
Stout lads of bonnie Scotland have fought and made their stand,
With fearless sons of Ulster, who came from shamrock land,
With courage and tenacity, their boldness of decision,
Writ large the name in history of the British Third Division.

These men are heroes everyone, the living and the dead,
Shirked not the call for sacrifice from those who ably led,
Immortal and undying their glory will not cease,
Their names will live forever in the hallowed years of peace.
The might of Britain whence they came- enhanced by men like these,
Will live and grow to greater heights never to wane or ease,
Will rise again forever strong; will know no indecision,
Whilst men are born in Britain like the British Third Division.

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