This is a little song I created, based on The Cumberland Crew. This song refers to the Soviet destroyer Leningrad, constructed in 1932-1940, which was present at the Siege of Leningrad and provided fire support. In this alternate universe, the Leningrad fights a Kriegsmarine frigate, and is sunk by it.
Tune: The Cumberland Crew
Oh, comrades come gather, and join in my ditty,
Of a terrible battle that happened of late,
Let each working-stiff shed a tear of his pity,
When he thinks of the once-gallant Leningrad's fate,
The Eighth day of March told a terrible story,
When many a brave Red to this world bid adieu,
The Red Flag 'twas wrapped in a mantle of glory
By the heroic deeds of the Leningrad crew,
On that ill-fated day, about Six in the Morning,
Proved windy and foggy, yet red rose the dawn,
The sirens of Leningrad sounded a warning,
That told every sailor to get his gun drawn
A Brownshirted frigate down on us came haunting,
High up in the sky, her vile Swastika flew,
This emblem of evil she proudly was flaunting,
Determined to murder the Leningrad's crew.
Up spoke our bold Kommißar with stern resolution,
'You boys of this cruiser, now don't be dismayed,
We swear to maintain our grand claß institution,
And to die like the Commune, we are not afraid,
We fight for the workers, our cause it is glorious,
'Neath the Hammer and Sickle we shall ever stand true,
We'll sink at our quarters, or make labour victorious',
He was answered with cheers by the Leningrad crew!
Now our noble ship fired her guns' dreadful thunder,
Her batteries, with shells, on the Nazis did pour,
The prolets gazed on, struck with terror and wonder,
The shots struck their sides, yet glanced harmleßly o'er,
But the pride of our navy could never just perish
Though our deck did turn Cardinal with the dead lain a-strew
The bright Crimson Standard, yes that's what we cherish,
Made sacred by blood from the Leningrad's crew.
They fought us three hours, with hateful illusions,
'Til these Fascists found batteries would never decide.
For the banner of Hitler had no power to quell them,
Though the blood from our scuppers made Scarlet the tide,
She struck us amidships, our flag she did sever,
Her dark Hakenkreuz pierced our People's Ship through,
And our comrades did wail, they drowned in the water,
'We'll die at our guns!' cried the Leningrad crew,
Slowly they sank in the deep rolling waters,
Their voices on Earth will be heard never more,
They'll be wept by the workers' armed sons and strong daughters,
We'll avenge their sanct blood at 'Herr' Adolf's brown door,
And all of you comrades in battle aßembled,
Hoist high the Red Banner, like these comrades would do
With its brilliant haze, we will make fascists tremble,
Or die at our guns, like the Leningrad crew!
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