On This Somber Day

On this somber day

Where allied blood once ran free;

I am reflective.

Wondering…what it was like

Staring down death and bullet.

Alone, but not so,

Brothers shoulder to shoulder

On that distant shore.

Seventy years on it lives

In those few that still remain.

You can see their pride,

You can see their welling tears

As if yesterday.

Thinking about friends they’d lost

As the price for our freedom.

Remember their dead.

Many scarcely got to live;

Few had said goodbye,

None had regretted the cause

That changed world history.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


12 thoughts on “On This Somber Day

    • Thank you Dan and sorry for the late reply. Every year I worry that this day becomes more and more trivialized. I just hope that my little poem can serve as a small reminder of what the day is about to those that read it…and thank you very much for reading it.

  1. I like to share this story, if I may:

    We huddled behind the steel doors, as the LST bobbed and ploughed through the rough. My fear cloaked and made me crouch. As the LST got closer to shore, I heard the pitter patter – bullets rapping on the steel door. German machine guns. The sergeant blew the whistle – time for the door to drop open as we beached. Pitter patter turned to rat-tat-tat! I lost my fear – mesmerized at the approach of death. Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat.

    I remained transfixed – spellbound – and the door clanged and splashed open – – – –

    Let’s not forget – what happened beyond the statistics.

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