From an old LP (Writer of Songs) of Harvey Andrews, could this be it?

FIFTY YEARS ON
(Harvey Andrews)

He was first one out of the landing craft when the ramp hit the churning sand,
He was first one out of the Red Cross train to the sound of a big brass band.
He was first in line for his demob suit when the war he'd fought was won,
Then he settled down, rebuilt his town, thought his job was done.

Fifty years on, fifty years on.
He's grown too old, his house is sold and all his money gone.
Like him it's thrown to the nursing home – fifty years on.

She ferried fighters through the skies, she flew the big ones too,
There was no job the Air Force had she felt she couldn't do.
From dawn she toiled with plug and coil, her scent was oily rag,
Her mad days and her salad days given to the flag.

Fifty years on, fifty years on.
Her face is bruised, she's been abused and all her spirits gone.
He was just a child but the kids are wild, fifty years on.

Fifty years on, fifty years gone,
And they've lost a war they could have sworn they'd won.
Fifty years on, fifty years gone,
And the kids say please to the Japanese, can we work for the new Nippon?
Fifty years on.

Yes the kids are wild and on the street, fifty years on,
But the courts are mild when they mug and beat, fifty years on.
They were youngsters then, they were boys not men, girls soon grew too fast,
They were our front line now it's me and mine, and the old one's come last.

Fifty years on, fifty years on.
They're fighting still, they always will but with so many gone.
They stand with pride but someone lied, fifty years on.

Times past, fifty years on,
They're last, fifty years on.