Moment of Silence

Twenty ninth division party, the date is the sixth of June. D-day the officers called it, a rendez-vous of my platoon. We're all packed into carriers, like sardines with deadly guns. About to face our enemies, to kill more fathers and sons. The waves splash our faces, a reminder of impending doom. For a brief second I smelled, my Jenny's expensive perfume. I could hear our men screaming, boys that could not even drink. The bulk head doors swing open, combat marines never did sink. Walls of men like meat shields, our rear flank nearly complete. My brothers die into the sand, and still never admit defeat. The captain smoked in trenches, his lieutenant torn up on shore. Here lies beauty for our duty, waking up on a hospital floor.