The Old Grey Funnel Line.

It was early morn' on that April dawn Our ship at anchor lay A signal from the Admiral Our ship got under way.	The shrapnel raked across the decks Ripping things apart Oil and water pipes sprang leaks And that was just the start.
As we armed our guns, I said a prayer We stood around in groups The Amethyst had run aground Attacked by Chinese troops.	My job to load the pom poms With shells from down below We'd hoist them up and feed them in Eight barrels were aglow.
It was civil war in China in 1949 We sailed the Yangtze river The Old Grey Funnel Line.	Our mission was the Amethyst To help her off the mud While Chinese gunners fired their guns They paid for it in blood.
Our ships festooned in British flags A white one at the mast. Destroyers and a cruiser It seemed the die was cast.	Our gunnery was superb that day We tried our best but failed With six degrees of listing The London homeward sailed.
The first shell hit the flag deck With a blinding flash Damaging a signal lamp And showering us with glass.	Out numbered by both men and guns The Chinese force too strong And sailing down the river To send us in was wrong.
The London was a cruiser and Her eight inch guns were ready The boffers and the pom poms Our gunners hands were steady.	My tale is told as my mates lay cold Lined up upon our decks All that was left of my shipmates now Was the dogtags round their necks.
'Twas then the bugle sounded "Action Stations" was the call All hell broke loose upon our ship As men began to fall.	The Consort, Concord and Black Swan too The Royal Navy's fighting crew These British sailors we all admire Ran the gauntlet of the Chinese fire.
Our skipper gave the order To train our guns and fire, A salvo from our starboard side I started to perspire.	They didn't care the Brits out there As they sipped their gins and lime The last boat out without a doubt Is the Old Grey Funnel Line.
We must have killed a hundred men As our shells began to fall Our Chief PO was at his best His voice began to bawl.	I wonder as the years go by A book and film now made Of the Yangtze river battle and The sacrifice some gave.
Close the breeches, train your guns And choose your targets well Another shell exploded, Another rating fell.	The Amethyst remembered And her gallant crew But of those other ships that took part that day Memories are few