Swathed in Scarlet | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Swathed in Scarlet | Previous Challenge Entry
By Ruth Neilson
05/28/06
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Do you remember the first time that you saw me? The days before the troops arrived here. I was literally glittering white, clothed in freshly bathed sand that would blind a person. I wish I could remember those days.

Unfortunately, I see myself only swathed in thick, hot, sticky, human blood. It stains me, sinking deep into my skin. The stench of death permeates every surface that I touch and see.

Limp bodies lie here, bathed in the salty tears of God; swimming their final lap in the shallows. Slowly turning into pruned remains that no one can recognize. Dog tags clank together, a horrible off pitch key. Death reigns on my soil.

I know these men. I watched them live and die within a few brief moments of arriving. One foot placed in the waves only to be shot down from above with hot lead. I witnessed them struggle ashore, determined to survive and equally as determined to bring their comrades with them. I still hear their cries for their mamas as they slowly died, inner bowels exposed to the clammy ocean air. I cradle them close, in a gritty embrace as the last shuddery breath departs from them.

Their souls are released, flying free like seagulls on the ocean breeze. I weep my own salt driven tears with each life that flees away from the earthly bounds. What purpose caused these men to come to this beach to die? I do not know.

They still come, determined to press onto this hallowed ground, unwavering in their commitment despite their fears. Young men, who are barely old enough to hold a weapon, are willing to sacrifice their lives for another. I do not know the outcome of this day’s fight.

Nevertheless, their blood will be remembered and I will continue to mourn and weep my tears for their bodies, long after they rest in my neighbor’s soil. My skin will be pristine again, bathed anew, and no one will remember the scarlet discoloration of today. They will only remember the symbolic innocence of the markers in the cliff looking over me.

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The invasion of Omaha Beach June 6, 1944 was the bloodiest part of the invasion of Normandy Beach. Within a few hours of beginning of the invasion, over 3,000 causalities occurred. This piece is wrote to remember those men who died and survived on D-Day. Their sacrifices will not be forgotten.

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