Omaha Beach
by Michael Doyle

The American soldier was carried by perpetual motion
In a metal hull as he prepared to land from the ocean.
The air around him was filled with the stench of salted fear.
All around him prayed, certain their deaths were near.

With no time to consider or breathe, friends were struck down.
Some of them never left the water to find solid ground.
It felt like a horror movie flashing before his mortal eyes.
On this day, D-Day, Satan wore a very thin, ghastly disguise.

The wind whistles now over the deserted shore of Omaha Beach,
No hint but silence of how the Allies made their needed breech.
The footsteps of heroes have long since faded from the sand,
Yet, the need remains to remember and still more to understand.

A steady infusion of blood had painted the waters along the shore.
The dead and the dying had paid the cost of winning the war.
Dire odds had been paid to claim this storied moment of victory,
Too many men pushed into a hail of bullets in the name of bravery.

Fighting together and many now buried side by heroic side,
These men knew the necessity of taking Omaha though they died.
A 50-mile death trap serves to remember freedom and liberty,
So many have died in the sacred name of needed victory.

The wind whistles now over the deserted shore of Omaha Beach,
No hint but silence of how the Allies made their needed breech.
The footsteps of heroes have long since faded from the sand,
Yet, the need remains to remember and still more to understand.

(c) June 6, 2025   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved