The Flags they fly in freedom there

He wrote a letter on his birthday

From a quaint little German town

All his buddies signed the flag they gave,

The one that he tore down

Had a swastica in the middle

The symbol of hate and scorn

But he sent it home as a memory

on the day that he was born.

They had holed up in a cellar

on a hill the night before

the bombs they kept a coming

while they crouched down by the door

When morning came, the soldiers ran

To cross the river Saar

And the Germans there in Dillingen

Couldn’t stop my grandpa’s war

They marched on up to Belgium

When Patton’s name was called

My grandpa rescued from Bastogne

The G eyes that were stalled

They pushed on across Europe

and crossed the mighty Rhine

My grandpa was a hero

at least he’s always mine.

I went on over to Germany

just 20 years ago

Drove a car on down to Dillingen

To see if it was so

Saw the bunkers by the river

And the streets where he did fight

And the flag poles flew in freedom

Cuz what my grandpa did that night.

Yes the flags they fly in freedom there

Cuz what my grandpa did that night.

Nineteen forty four

Crossed the mighty Siegfried Line

All the men, Tough Ombres were

They stood the test of time

When we look back at what they did

The ones who lived and died

My grandpa and his buddies there

Were heroes,

And heroes never die!