Tuesday at the Beach

I spent the early hours of my seventeenth birthday feeling more like a child than I ever had. The sky was still dark as I made my way along the deck of the ship, but I was still able to read the letter my brother had written for me.

“Happy Birthday Hen Hen, love you and miss you. - Charlie”

His writing had gotten better since the last time I received a letter from him. I reread the message over and over as I waited in the queue to board the transport boat. My finger brushed over his name, imagining him at the kitchen table. His red hair shining in the sunlight, and my mother standing over him to ensure he didn’t mess up his spelling, or flip his “r” as he often did. I folded up the note and stuffed it deep in my breast pocket, keeping it, and him, close to my heart.

I stepped onto the boat and squeezed in between the other men. Although it was a chilly morning, my body broke into a sweat, as I began to feel like I was stuffed in a tin of sardines. The salty sea air wasn't helping.

The boat launched forward and began chopping its way through the rough waves. The motion caught me off guard and I reached for the hand of my friend, Andrew, who sat beside me to steady myself. When he let go he noticed the graphite on my fingers had transferred onto his.

“Writing a last-minute love letter Henry?” Although he meant it as a joke neither of us laughed, considering what awaited us.

Several explosions went off in the distance, followed by the buzzing of airplanes overhead. The noise all around was deafening. The vibrations felt profound, reverberating through my body. It was as if a parasite was crawling between my bones, pressing at every inch of my skin trying to get out. Bile began to rise in my throat and before I could choke it back it soiled my boots.

“Check your equipment and keep it close to you, don’t let the water take it, or you down.” The shouting from the officer was barely audible, over the eruptions of gunfire, and the beating of my heart.

“Disembark!”

I looked over to Andrew and saw the fear in his eyes. He quickly reached for the buckle on my helmet and tightened it.

The ramp dropped, and water rushed into the boat. Ahead of me lay Normandy beach littered with the bodies of my countrymen.

The water was up to my chest and I struggled to move in the rough waves. Andrew kept close by my side and grasped my shoulder to help pull me forwards.

A shell whipped above my head and struck one of the landing crafts behind me. I turned to see three men on the boat had been killed, and a dozen or so others grappled to escape the sinking ship.

Then a burst of artillery fire swarmed around us. I ducked quickly under the water to take cover, and kept submerged there until my lungs began burning, begging me to resurface and fill them. I burst from the water and gulped down the acrid salty air. Lifeless bodies were bobbing in the water around me. I looked to my left and thankfully saw that Andrew was still standing beside me.

The next five yards to the shore were our world to conquer, and beyond that laid another. We fought with the rhythm of the waves, back and forth, for what seemed like hours. Taking cover and reemerging so many times my eyes were stinging from the salt. Then finally our boots hit the sand of the beach.

Andrew and I cowered low and crawled forward to take shelter with a group of men who lay behind a large mound of earth. Finally taking cover, I reached for my rifle for the first time that morning and realized it was not there. Lost in the sea. My breath became shallow as panic whipped through my mind and body.

“I don’t think he’s in need of his,” A Lieutenant beside me gestured to a fallen soldier a few feet away. I let out a sigh of relief, and without thinking I stood up quickly to head toward the downed man.

A piercing pain ripped through my abdomen, followed by another in my back. I fell to the ground and saw my blood stain the sand around me. Growing darker and darker as each second passed.

“Medic,” Andrew called out, “medic, medic!” He crawled towards me and with the help of the Lieutenant, they yanked me back to cover. I couldn’t help but scream as the sand scraped and gathered at the opening in my back. Andrew pulled a packet of gauze out of the tin that was fastened to his belt, and pressed it hard into my abdomen, while the Lieutenant rolled me gently to reach for the one at my back.

The pain had turned into a scolding heat, throbbing with each beat of my heart. I looked up at Andrew and saw the tears streaming down his cheek. All I could taste was blood, as it pushed its way into my mouth, choking me. I reached for Andrew’s hand on my stomach and pulled it away. Then I clutched the note in my pocket, thinking of Charlie, sitting at the table, his red hair glowing.

I let out my last breath laying there thinking of my brother at home, while surrounded by hundreds more.