Arromanches
As you stand there
Looking at my name,
Spare a thought for all of us.
We were nothing special,
Just teenagers who will never age,
Never have children of our own,
Time makes you our children.
We will never see our legacy,
Or the results of our efforts.
We had a job to do,
So we did it – simple as that.
Some friends stayed with us
Some went home,
And return now and again,
But their numbers dwindle.
We had little time
To reflect on the job beforehand
And were too busy on the day.
So when you go home,
No tears
Just raise a glass
And remember us now and again.
© Alan McKean
June 2004
Just a short poem I wrote for the 60th anniversary, having been to the Normandy beaches.
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