The mountain foothill grove would smoulder,
The burning sunset’s glow was bright.
From our platoon of eighteen soldiers,
Just us three lads survived that night.
So many dear, good friends of ours
Lay in the dark. Death staked its claim,
In front of one unknown village,
Upon a peak that was never named.
In front of one unknown village,
Upon a peak that was never named.
A signal flare glowed, all while falling,
Just like a star that burned and died.
Whoever’s happened to behold it,
He never will forget that sight.
He won’t forget, he won’t forget them,
Those fierce attacks and that bright flame.
In front of one unknown village,
Upon a peak that was never named.
In front of one unknown village,
Upon a peak that was never named.
Above us, Messerschmitts were flying.
They lit the sky up like daylight.
But our strong friendship was undying,
Under artillery crossfire.
However tough times were, you’d always
Stay true to your dreams just the same.
In front of one unknown village,
Upon a peak that was never named.
In front of one unknown village,
Upon a peak that was never named.
I dream of them night in, night out,
My wartime buddies, now long gone.
And of our three-course log dugout,
A burned-down pine tree up above.
The firing line...I’m standing with them.
Though years have passed, it feels the same.
In front of one unknown village,
Upon a peak that was never named.
In front of one unknown village,
Upon a peak that was never named.