He knew that summers would never be the same again

He had wanted to brush away

The smear of days

That still hung around his neck

That which had found its way

Into the landings on sword gold Juno and Omaha

The implacable concrete machine gun bunkers

He had wanted to soak and scrub

To relinquish the very nature of all that had gone before

The bodies floating in the sea

The empty- headed helmets swaying and bobbing

The life jackets that saved no lives

The screaming shells over head

The pit that he had dug with his own bare hands

Weeks later in the earth

To hide and hope that he would not be next

And yet at the same time he was proud to have served

To have been a part of what had occurred

In those days

Those foolish reckless days

Where once again humanity had come to a halt

Times he had wanted to forget

But could not as they were stapled into his head

As he remembered fallen comrades

Asking why them and not me instead