I haven't spent a lot of time thinking about it, but I've always sort of assumed that the three hundred thousand who were piled up like driftwood were from a concentration camp that the "stranger" had stumbled upon back in his soldier days. All were different in that each person surely had his/her own concerns while living; all were the same in that . . . well, they were dead.

I tend to conflate the song lyrics with my own memories of the stories a friend would tell. He fought in WWII and never missed a chance to explain to anyone who would listen that things in that war were far from the simple tale of good triumphing over evil that we've led ourselves to believe in. A very interesting man, really.

I suppose in my own imagination, I've put myself in the singer(speaker's) position, with my friend as the "stranger" being spoken to. I felt helpless when he was diagnosed with a debilitating disease that left him knowing for months that his days were numbered. "I am scared" he would say, and there was nothing I could do.

Herring405