From Halifax one cold, dark night,some ships got under way.
Group HX84's sad plight is quite a tale they say:
when merchant ships met Nazi might, and it, the Jervis Bay.
Gone were the days of rich resorts, and folk who sought the sun,
she'd plied the planet's pleasure ports, her time was almost done.
The navy sadly lacked escorts when war had just begun.
They fitted her with six-inch guns, one fore, one aft, they say,
they were out-gunned these mothers' sons who died with Jervis Bay.
The War had waged for but a year on that November day,
a host of ships felt naked fear on cold, cold seas of grey:
In wait, here lay Admiral Scheer to fight the Jervis Bay.
This battleship had little fear when stalking easy prey,
convoys were flocks of sheep to Scheer, to slaughter, sink, and slay;
till one old ewe bleats, "Fegen's here - aboard the Jervis Bay!"
"Convoy dispersing" signals say, they flee like hell from here,
as Jervis Bay steams through the fray to ram the mighty Scheer.
Poor Jervis Bay has gone below as though she'd never been,
she's gone to where good sailors go for berths in Fiddler's Green.
Ships are foundering here and there, a few ablaze I think,
men are drowning everywhere in bunker C's foul stink.
That frightful cry: "Abandon ship!" loud klaxons vent their spleen,
and ships begin their final trip below, to Fiddler's Green.
The tanker San Demetrio, becomes a ship of fire:
"It looks as though she's gonna blow! The situation's dire."
Into the boats the crew all go, or else she'll be their pyre!
Dawn came cold on a wintry sea, the ship was still aflame:
A blazing ship? A cold, cold sea? The choice is much the same.
So back on board climbed fifteen menwho bravely doused the blaze,
and brought her safely home again, it took them many days:
And all because of fine seamen as brave as Jervis Bay's.