O Jasmine

Jasmine stands watching from a high craggy perch
and scans the horizon for me;
‘Twas nine months ago that we set out in search
of the mighty ship, Admiral Graf Spee.

HMS Exeter rode high on the waves,
her captain, Joe Beckett, in charge;
South to the merchant ships we were to save,
from the battleship Spee, still at large.

Six hundred thirty – I, Captain and crew
met up with Achilles and Ajax;
Determined we were, off the coast of Peru,
to silence the Admiral’s attacks.

O Jasmine, sweet Jasmine,
my heart sails to you,
though Exeter takes me to sea;
I long to be resting
near the warmth of the hearth,
yet now must I hunt the Graf Spee.

Langsdorff engaged as we reached Uruguay
at River Plate, he met us three;
Ajax and Achilles, north-east by and by,
left Exeter facing Graf Spee.

The Admiral fired salvos that struck amidships,
and blasted off Exeter’s bridge;
’twas there I had stood with her name on my lips,
while she waits for me ‘pon that ridge.

A locket she gave me clutched firm in my hand,
I call out her name o’er the waves;
that carry me west toward the Argentine sands,
to Davy Jones’ locker, my grave.

O Jasmine, sweet Jasmine,
my heart sails to you
though Exeter’s cast me to sea;
I now shall be resting
in the warmth of your heart
‘neath the wake of the Admiral Graf Spee.