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A Place Called Normandy
It was a stormy day at Omaha
when our craft was about to hit the beach.
I was reeling with seasickness and in fear
was shaking from the top of my head
to the soles of my feet.
My buddy tried to cheer me up
tho I knew he was also afraid to die.
I smiled only briefly as he opened his jacket
and showed me his wild colored tie.
As the door to the craft opened
my buddy ran off down the shore
I watched until I could see him nomore.
For what seemed like hours
I stood frozen in time.
The carnage was making me sicker
but soldiers kept on pushing by.
I was shaken by a familiar image
that from a distance caught my eye.
The man's right arm and half his face
was missing.
Then through the blood and gore
I saw the wild colored tie.
I wanted to scream and yell
I tried to get to my buddy.
Suddenly the scene was interrupted
by an exploding shell.
Through the smoke I looked in vain
he had vanished into thin air.
For some strange reason
I had no more energy to care.
Not only did my buddy die
in that living hell.
But on that beach in Normandy
a big part of me died as well.
Jill V. Chandler 
Copyright 1998, Spokane Washington

I Wonder Why
I think of the many times
I crawled into that old bomber
and the nights befor the missions
that I spent down on my knees
and how many times I wondered why
another day I was allowed to see.
I think about my buddies
who didn't make it home
both the sad and happy times we had
sometime I feel alone.
I will never understand
why they had to leave
and why I was left to carry on
I'll always wonder and grieve
But every day I take the time
to thank the Lord above
for allowing me to spend that time
with the friends I came to know and love.
Jill V. Chandler
Copyright 1995, Spokane Washington

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