If this beach could talk, what stories
would it tell?
Would it be the
stories of thousands of young men jumping from the landing
crafts into the sea; or clambering onto this very beach as
bullets hissed through the air around them? Desperately seeking
shelter from the shells bursting above them. Confusion. Where
were their mates? What were they supposed to do now?
It wasn't supposed to be like this. Fear.
Were they going to die?
I held a pebble from the beach to remember