As we climbed down the nets
Into the landing crafts
Veterans of theatre
With a mixture of drafts
In the distance through the spray
We could sight foreign lands
Normandy it is
After many months being planned
Closer and closer
With explosions all around
Our time is nearing
Will we reach these foreign grounds
The landing craft ramp
Drops with a splash
As we run through the water
Along the sands we dash
High on the cliff tops
Spandau's spray the beach
Bullets ripping flesh
Whilst gun emplacments preach
The lucky ones made it
As the unfortunate lay dead and dying
Limbs torn from souls
Some starring at the skies
As we shelter below the cliffs
We encourage the ones who follow
As they rush through the dead and red
Before death has them swallowed
For a moment i closed my eyes
And thought " why in the hell am i here "
When a bullet zips my helmet
So startled, that death was near
To the cliff tops we must climb
Pipe bombs lead the way
Barbed wire blown to bits
As our snipers have their say
Below the gun emplacements
Grenades in precision lob
Amongst our bitter enemy
A few more lives we've robbed
After many hours of fighting
The cliff tops we have taken
As i look down on the beaches
Redded by the ones, who will never awaken
This is the first poem in my story, as you follow me as i fight my way
to Berlin, and eventual peace after many years of wanton killing and suffering