CONVOY TO SCOTLAND
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Come all you Newfoundlanders
Who sailed away with me,
Way back in 1940
Across the briny sea.
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And see if you can still recall
As I recall today,
The days we sailed from Newfoundland
To Scotland far away.
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'Twas at the start of World War II
When England in distress,
Called out for Newfie lumberjacks
The bravest and the best.
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It seems they needed wooden poles
To drive into the sand,
To build a sort of barricade
Should the Germans try to land.
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The call for help was answered
And soon we made our way,
The young and old - the large and small
From every cove and bay.
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We gathered at our starting points
Along the railroad track,
And once we got on board the train
There was no turning back.
,
From Port-Au-Basques to St. John's town
We slowly made our way,
We sang and joked all through the night
And halfway through next day.
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A thousand voices split the air
As we got off the train,
And stepped out into the fog and slush
And good old St. John's rain.
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I guess we had a mid-day meal
But what I can't recall,
Bur being Newfoundlanders
I bet we ate it all.
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We had to have a medical
And when we asked them why,
The doctor said we must be sure
That you are fit to die.
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We got our passport photograph
And our five dollar bill,
And as I have a Scottish name
I guess I've got mine still.
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We went down to the dock side
As it was growing dark,
And for our journey overseas
Were ordered to embark.
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We sailed out through the narrows
Beneath the darkening skies,
And our last look at Newfoundland
Was seen through misty eyes.
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The ocean lay before us
With danger all around,
And yet not one down-hearted man
Among us could be found.
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For in the faith by which we lived
We trusted God's right hand,
To guide through the perils of the war
And bring us safe to land.
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As we sat for our evening meal
Our journey had begun,
And through the night to Halifax
We made a steady run.
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We waited for the convoy ships
That shortly we would join,
It took at least a day or two
To get them into line.
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The waiting soon was over
And we were on our way,
Across the broad Atlantic
To Scotland far away.
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For seventeen long days we sailed
With U-boats ever near,
But we were having so much fun
we had no time for fear.
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At last we reached our journey's end
And sailing up the Clyde,
With something new around each bend
Our joy we could not hide.
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We shouted Newfie greetings
To every Scot we saw,
They shouted "Go home loonies
Ye dinna look so braw."
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We spent a night in Gourock docks
But early the next day,
To our appointed lumber camps
By coach we made our way.
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Before we left the dockside
Some newsmen from the press,
Came down to snap the lumberjacks
The biggest and the best.
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We had some hefty fellows
Among our gallant crew,
We all tried hard to get a place
But they said ten will do.
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We tried to stay together
With friends of childhood days,
But orders had been given
Which sent us different ways.
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The order was a harsh one
And caused a lot of pain,
As life-long friends were parted
Never to meet again.
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From Scotland South to Scotland North
The lumberjacks did go,
And with the axe and buck-saw
The Scottish pines laid low.
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From early morn to nine at night
Our saws were never still,
We often turned a forest tall
into a desert hill.
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And when the day's work ended
We didn't go to bed,
We changed our clothes got on our bikes
And went to town instead.
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We found the Scottish people
So very like our own,
Big-hearted, kind and gentle
They made us feel at home.
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But that was many years ago
And I am sure, like me
You'll not forget the days we spent
Across the briny sea.
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Good luck to all survivors
Wherever you may be,
Long may you live and still recall
That convoy trip with me.
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Written by Angus Temple of Sunnyside, Newfoundland now living in Oldham, England
Provided by Larry Gladney, Clarenville
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