Ten thousand graves ...
Tended with care ... lush grass precisely trimmed.
Crosses mostly ... and Stars of David ...
Young men and women cut down in the prime of life.
They were brave and they were afraid ...
Their pictures reveal that haunted look ...
Of soldiers too tired to be afraid,
And too frightened to find sleep.
Seasick and wet,
They hit the beach …
Under the cover of …
Steel and smoke.
Death and tears abound …
Ahead, my friends, ahead.
There’s no going back now.
No stopping for any of us.
A continent enslaved awaits the charge.
Nations, yes, and then some, to be unshackled …
And the years pass us by quickly …
Memories roll beyond the reach of words …
Silent tears still shed …
By those who made it home.
Slowly, now, they join their comrades,
As we all do … with the passage of time.
Hand-in-hand; arm-in-arm … a band of brothers …
A chorus of sisters …
Smoke and steel …
And a victory in hand.
And may those
Ten thousand graves remain ever well-tended!
© Tom Eggebeen, 2010
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