Omaha Beach Wading (D-Day 6 June 1944)
"Urine the boat, therein the water."
Then, and now it's my turn:
Wet, cold to the torso,
arms and hands held high, like Christs with rifles we slog.
Glints through the haze, steel pot strap tugging; boats are forgotten:
Splashes on the sea, unreal.
A half figure falls with a moan, and then another.
Forward, forward, who cares that they blundered,
Teeth gritting, salt assails,
Heart unnoticed racing.
Breath is the lifeblood against
this watery grave...
of muttered curses!