Jun 8
(a tribute to young courage;
observations of a father)
~
cutting sharply through the water,
her bow approaches the surf;
the zone where ocean's bottom,
rises quickly from the depths;
where pounding waves,
meet churning sands,
blending pebbles, shells, and
grass into a darkened mud.
standing, squatting, silent,
behind her heavy wings of steel;
young boys, not yet men,
await a sign, whether
from heaven or command;
their lips muttering to no one
but the howling wind.
a brisk sea breeze whisks,
away the cigarette smoke,
that rises from their huddled
masses, scatt'ring heavenward,
with their whispered prayers,
for courage, safety, strength.
then the momentary lull,
all of heaven holds their breath
like a bird she slows,
still rocking in the surf,
a hundred feet from shore,
like a calm before the storm,
as her wings that held them tight
now lower to form the bridge
that to the fiery fury now awaits...
and then,
the surf is filled with boys,
alighting from her wings of safety,
those not ground to blood and bone
by knives of steel that ply the air
and waves, aging, with each
passing second of survival,
by the time their soles find sand,
becoming, at the shoreline men;
leaving behind, their mates-
in-arms, who aged far too young.
from boys to watery grave.
now young men, running,
searching on an open shore
seeking shelter, any means of cover
fron the steel that falls like rain
'neath hidden nests, birds of prey
as far below his courage grows
with every dancing inland step
this rite of passage that
no one's son should
ever need to walk, again.
observations of a father)
~
cutting sharply through the water,
her bow approaches the surf;
the zone where ocean's bottom,
rises quickly from the depths;
where pounding waves,
meet churning sands,
blending pebbles, shells, and
grass into a darkened mud.
standing, squatting, silent,
behind her heavy wings of steel;
young boys, not yet men,
await a sign, whether
from heaven or command;
their lips muttering to no one
but the howling wind.
a brisk sea breeze whisks,
away the cigarette smoke,
that rises from their huddled
masses, scatt'ring heavenward,
with their whispered prayers,
for courage, safety, strength.
then the momentary lull,
all of heaven holds their breath
like a bird she slows,
still rocking in the surf,
a hundred feet from shore,
like a calm before the storm,
as her wings that held them tight
now lower to form the bridge
that to the fiery fury now awaits...
and then,
the surf is filled with boys,
alighting from her wings of safety,
those not ground to blood and bone
by knives of steel that ply the air
and waves, aging, with each
passing second of survival,
by the time their soles find sand,
becoming, at the shoreline men;
leaving behind, their mates-
in-arms, who aged far too young.
from boys to watery grave.
now young men, running,
searching on an open shore
seeking shelter, any means of cover
fron the steel that falls like rain
'neath hidden nests, birds of prey
as far below his courage grows
with every dancing inland step
this rite of passage that
no one's son should
ever need to walk, again.
~
post script.
Yesterday marked its 80th anniversary. On June 6, 1944, Allied casualties were documented for at least 10,000, with 4,414 confirmed dead, yet the Allies' forces failed to achieve a single one of their planned objectives on the first day. And still liberation had begun, as their foothold began to break an evil stronghold
https://www.liherald.com/wantagh/stories/boys-became-men-in-crucible-of-world-war-ii,55692?#:~:text=The%20single%2C%20most%20powerful%20realization,an%20average%20age%20of%2024.
"The single, most powerful realization for me is that the soldiers who fought and died at Normandy were an average age of 24. Of the 160,000 who came onshore, many were just 17 and 18 years old."
Resder's Comment. "My mom was a young French girl living a few miles inland from Normandy Beach during D-Day. She said she felt and heard D-Day before she saw it. A few days later American and Canadian liberated her and her family. Freedom from evil was restored.
That was the beginning of Huguette Chritien's dream of becoming an American. Her dream was realized. She passed away in '83 and was laid to rest on June 6 of that year.
Because of the sacrifices made by so many men on D-Day she lived a brilliant life. I give thanks to God that such men lived."
post script.
Yesterday marked its 80th anniversary. On June 6, 1944, Allied casualties were documented for at least 10,000, with 4,414 confirmed dead, yet the Allies' forces failed to achieve a single one of their planned objectives on the first day. And still liberation had begun, as their foothold began to break an evil stronghold
https://www.liherald.com/wantagh/stories/boys-became-men-in-crucible-of-world-war-ii,55692?#:~:text=The%20single%2C%20most%20powerful%20realization,an%20average%20age%20of%2024.
"The single, most powerful realization for me is that the soldiers who fought and died at Normandy were an average age of 24. Of the 160,000 who came onshore, many were just 17 and 18 years old."
Resder's Comment. "My mom was a young French girl living a few miles inland from Normandy Beach during D-Day. She said she felt and heard D-Day before she saw it. A few days later American and Canadian liberated her and her family. Freedom from evil was restored.
That was the beginning of Huguette Chritien's dream of becoming an American. Her dream was realized. She passed away in '83 and was laid to rest on June 6 of that year.
Because of the sacrifices made by so many men on D-Day she lived a brilliant life. I give thanks to God that such men lived."
