D-Day Remembered
June 6, 1944
(this pic my uncle and some other soldiers not sure date.)
D-Day Remembered
Juno beach proud men
Brave strong fearless
Bonded for life
No grumbling,
Though it wasn’t painless
Memories haunting them still
Juno Beach, a watery grave
Boats destroyed, ninety landing craft in all
Men loaded down with equipment
Their bodies some sank
Memories haunting them still
Bodies floating on water
As surviving troops advanced
Stretched across the fifty mile shore
Bodies strewn across the beach
Looking on in horror
Memories haunting them still
As they thought
Poor men, poor devils
And guiltily thought
Thank God, it’s not me
Memories haunting them still
Parachutists falling and failing
As the surf broke the coast
Many missing targets
And drowning in fields
Memories haunting them still
Gliders aborting others
Shot on the way down
Crawling out of wreckage
To soldier on, doing duty
Memories haunting them still
Taken captive by enemy
Prisoners in this stage
In this passage of time
No balm to the recollections
Memories haunting them still
Those that survived
Remember those comrades
They lost that day
As time lingers on
Memories haunting them still
Those who gave their all
For King and country
We remember but also
Those that suffered
Memories haunting them still
We thank them for
Making our country
Whole and safe
From tyranny and strife
Even as memories haunting them still
We thank them for
Fighting the good fight
For making Canada, remarkable
As citizens who care
We thank them still
©Sheilagh Lee June 5, 2014
The old man stood on the beach tears in his eyes, as
he thought of the past it rolled back in his mind like he was there again.
“I don’t want to do this,” he cried as a young soldier.
“Look around
you what do you see? Bodies of good men who gave their lives; so we could
continue the fight. We need to take this beach, the whole world counts on it.
Besides they’d never think we’d come across in this weather.”
“Those paratroopers missed their targets, as did our
R-boats. This is a disaster.”
“It’s not for you to say. We’re the 9th Canadian
infantry brigade, we can take them. Join me, jump into the water and start
swimming to the shore. Let’s do this,” Sarge answered.
The boy soldier jumped into the choppy cold sea,
swimming past dead soldiers, cannon fire and explosions exploding around him in
the water. He marched on past more
bodies, past exploding shells, until late in the afternoon when they advanced on
Carpiquet Airport. Low on ammunition they dug in for a night, that lasted a
month, while bodies still fell around him.
The old man pulled himself back from the memories wiping
his eyes, he looked towards the memorial. Seventy years ago passed since that
fifteen year old boy fought and Sarge had died. Those dying boys, men and
survivors were owed a duty. He would be there for the memorial every year to
honour them, until he couldn’t do anymore.
©Sheilagh Lee June 5, 2014
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