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June 6, 1944

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The feet pounding onto the harsh, cold shore
Wave after wave pushing up t’wards the mount
Flames and fire disintegrate the corps
And bodies pile too many to count
The dead water drenched anew with the red
That brings to mem’ry the faceless marines
To those who shot there no diff’rence who bled
Those who lost tremble to forget the scenes
Taken aback and then brought by the tide
Not even two decades filled in these lives
Nor does half a cent’ry succeed to hide
A tangible minute that ne’er arrives
Filling Omaha the boys become men
Who don’t come back to return home again



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