Remember Scarborough!

The day our town was visited by war,
we hardly had the time to ring the bells.
The bairns were playing on our golden shore
and savouring the fish and seaweed smells,
building castles of sand, collecting shells -
though these were not of molluscs but of steel -
and all at once a thousand blazing hells
fell from the sky with each chiming peel.
Remember Scarborough – our wounds will never heal.

There were over a hundred Yorkshire dead.
A battery that flattened promenade,
destroyed cliffs as far as Flamborough Head,
brought death to each and every back yard -
there would be no pretty picture postcard.
It took all of these honest folk to die
before England finally raised its guard,
the posters henceforth raised the battle cry
“Remember Scarborough” the Hun are nigh!