The sun was shining on the English Channel, on a ferry off the coast of France And it was summer and a pleasant morning, and high above gulls wheeled and danced And high above the cliffs of morning, the gun emplacements had stood in ranks And I walked over to the railings and heard the ghosts of the Calgary Tanks
And I remembered pictures I'd seen in history books and magazines Of three men standing, smoking, staring, among the dead on a rocky beach And in the light of that pleasant morning, as we sailed under the cliffs above I thought of all their silent prayers, and their final thoughts of the ones they loved
That they left behind at prairie stations, waving to their pride and joy Waving to the smiling faces, smiling faces of the soldier boys No waves of grain could claim the fallen, just the channel cold and gray as steel And no return to the rollin' prairie or a silent cross on a lonely field
The sun was shining on the rolling prairie far from the channel cold and gray Shone on the families, friends and lovers of the prairie boys who fell that day But they could not know on that sunny morning the future held for them no joy They'd wait in vain at prairie stations, wait in vain for their soldier boys 1