D-Day 6th June 1944

As we approach the 82nd anniversary of D-Day on 6th June, I have uploaded a poem, simply called "D-Day". This is a poem I have written from the perspective of a single soldier as he embarks on this momentous journey. It is included in my anthology, "We Were There...and other wartime poems", available on all Amazon platforms.

D-DAY

‘We’re going south,’ our orders decreed,

though nobody told us why.

Some said the Germans were coming across,

some said we’re all going to die.

As we closed in on the coastal towns,

we met many thousands of others.

What on earth could be waiting ahead

for us and all of our brothers?

Rain and wind welcomed us in,

despite being the first days of June.

We were billeted in homes, in barns and in trucks.

We hoped we’d hear something soon. 

On the fourth, at dawn, we were briefed by the brass.

We were heading across the sea.

The beaches of Normandy waited ahead,

but they meant nothing to me.

We boarded the ships that night in a storm.

 At five o’clock we’d be gone.

But the weatherman said there was much worse to come.

To the storm, the Op would succumb.

Twenty-four hours, Ike told us to wait,

in the hope that the rain would recede.

Five on the fifth  was the last chance we had

for the Overlord Op to succeed.

The green light was given, anchors were raised,

we were off to whoever knew what.

Twelve hours it took, the Channel to cross,

a horrible churn in my gut.

Landing craft were lowered and manned,

hundreds of them all around.

We were to be the first on the beach.

If I didn’t get shot, I’d be drowned.

Like lambs to the slaughter we jumped from the boats,

in seconds, many were dead.

“Keep moving, don’t stop,” an officer screamed.

We didn’t have time to feel dread.

We were armed to the teeth, such a dead weight,

trying to wade through the waves.

Bullets whistled, shells blew up,

sending many good men to their graves.

I stepped over bodies and kit in the sea,

the water a deep shade of red.

I managed to reach dry land intact.

My God, I thought I’d be dead.

Many hours went by in a flash before

we began to make up some ground.

The enemy fire was dying back,

their guns were making less sound

Off the beach, our final attack,

the firing suddenly stopped.

We’d made it, we’d conquered the foes in the dunes.

Overwhelmed, to the ground I dropped.

I looked back at the beach and couldn’t believe

the vision that greeted my eyes.

Hundreds, perhaps more, of bodies and wounded,

a massive cost for this prize.

But this was just the start for us,

through Europe for months we would fight.

Many would make it, many would not,

before victory came into sight.

But this longest day had provided the key,

a foundation for success.

But I would never forget our day on the beach,

and those lost in the carnage and mess.