Folks, I apologize up front for my departure from Bills conversation.  It has been a pleasure to discuss my favorite team with this group.  But today holds special meaning to me, and so I wanted to make a special posting of something that I wrote over ten years ago after my Battalion went on a Staff Ride to Normandy.  I like to share this twice each year... 11 November and 6 June.  Thanks to all of you that serve and have served.  The simple freedom of blogging our opinions in these threads is preserved by our nations finest.  I'll love my brothers and sisters in arms until my dieing breath, and will take every opportunity to brag about their merits.

God Bless.

OMAHA

What gathers on strips of sand and shells?

What patrons of frequent occasion?

With children’s laughter and soothing swells,

Caressing the strands of its’ station.

Where elements join in loving embrace,

Where “carefree” is again redefined,

Flourishing romance in this utopian place,

Callers reflect and unwind;

On these breezy shores too oft we’ve seen,

A place many thought distant and lost,

Crimson replaced the blues, whites, and greens,

Innocence and life were the cost;

In 1944, 6 June our lord,

On ragged seas afloat,

Freedoms deliverance huddled aboard,

On churning warrior boats,

Children themselves, not long men in green,

Adolescence still coursing their veins,

Pictures of lovers in pockets unseen,

And letters were all that remained;

With each slamming passage through seas unforgiving,

As the waves waft these soldiers near,

They are defiant! They’ll go on living!

They don’t know the meaning of fear!

Artillery explodes!  Then gunfire snaps!

This epic shouldn’t last them too long,

Transports become unwitting death traps!

The Hun’s just can’t be this strong!

A new smell emerges among salty sea air,

Of gunpowder charges and blood,

Pouring from vessels, men in despair,

Ever forward through a tumultuous flood,

Flood of the waters, pulling them under,

With the weight of their craft still attached,

Flood of their brothers torn apart in the thunder,

Could it be that they might be outmatched?

Flood of the bullets spraying each swell,

As if each wave could somehow be killed,,

Flood of explosions, a deliverance from hell,

As the Omaha beaches were filled;

Boots finding bottom; the sea is now is fading;

Crashing waves to their backs, soaking wet,

Men in their gun sights, the enemy’s waiting!

No time for anger, sadness, regret;

Hiding behind obstacles meant for…

…The destruction of each craft injected,

Crawling slow forward, reinforcements are sent for,

One moves deeper, three others rejected;

Naval gunfire, missing far, missing wide;

Soldiers are losing their grip;

The battle is sliding to the enemy’s side,

Warrior footholds are starting to slip;

A voice deep in their hearts, not wanting to die,

Emerges loudly in each hungry soul,

“Death if we quit, and death if we try!”

As they surge toward their ultimate goal;

Moving at sprint, then covering down,

To the base of the cliffs sure to hide,

Silhouettes of Huns at the edge of the town,

Their security of victory denied;

Gauging a pillbox, grenades lofted ahead,

Gods wrath spilling on this foreign land,

Now the enemy felt these charging undead,

Tasting their salt, and rubbed by their sand;

Bullets searing through hedges, while building walls tumbled,

German hands reached for the skies,

Masters no longer, their might has been humbled,

Did they still believe Hitlers foul lies?

As the thundering tapered, gunfire crackles still,

Boys now men did gather their spirit,

Tending their wounds amongst the dead and the ill,

A new cry echoed for those who would hear it;

“Hey Jimmy, where are ya? Hey Mike, you seen Jim?

We was together when we jumped in the sea!

Stormin’ the beach was the last time I seen him,

And I told him to stay real close to me!”

A logical man would tell you the ocean,

Washed the crimson away from the sands,

But it is equally possible, you must consider the notion,

Soldiers’ tears cleansed these tormented lands;

As I walk down these beaches and consider their past,

I think of heroes who fell on these shores,

The avengers of freedom, who allowed freedom to last,

By repelling the enemy hoards;

Now at their grave sight overlooking the seas,

Normandy embraced by the greens, whites, and blues,

Sailboats are gliding with the north ocean breeze,

Beach pedestrians now are the views;

What gathers on strips of sand and shells?

What patrons of frequent occasion?

With children’s laughter and soothing swells,

Caressing the strands of its’ station.

Where elements join in loving embrace,

Where “carefree” is again redefined,

Flourishing romance in this utopian place,

Callers reflect and unwind;