It's all there on cine film -
a wished for window of fair weather
in June, one small opening
a thousand ships launched
an armada bound for Armageddon;
slap of waves on steel, engine roar above
fighters, bombers, bombardment
big guns, ship to shore.
And men, praying, joking, smoking
seasick in the rust-bucket craft
that would jettison body and soul
onto Normandy's shores.
And then they're there!
I'm haunted by a face
frozen in a newsreel shot
a sergeant turning once
orders given, the flat-nosed bow drops
a barrage begins.
Parachutists plunge silently
into carnage. infantry paddle, wade
belly flop the sands in a slaughter
of shells or drown in the bows.
We've watched it on the movies
sanitised, safe, with sound effects
seen the decimation in those sad acres
the stills, the raw, war footage:
10,000 wrecked on those defences
so too those casualties in its defence
It’s Open Link Night at dVerse with Lisa’s mini prompt choice: ‘Show me the Movies’ – title is a quote from “The Sixth Sense” (1999) and the poem memorializes the D-Day landings of 80 years ago today, with most American, British, and Canadian survivors, now deceased.
PoetryPix 
Very, very tough, and the first hour hell on earth surely, or worse. Unimaginable, to be honest…well-described indeed.
I still do not entirely understand what the powers that be were thinking. I don’t know what the alternatives were. Even in the rehearsals they had a death rate.
thank you Ain – I tried to write with some stark realism though never having been there but I’ve watched the footage many times. There was no alternative as we in Britain were all bombed out after 4 years of war and Germany too – but peace was not on the table
Laura, we chose the same line and took it in a similar but different path. Once it becomes personal, like “the face of a sergeant,” it becomes real. You’re right, the memories exist in newsreels and other hard copy places but not in the minds of many survivors anymore. So strange that 80 years have gone by as of today. My dad and his brother were both in the war. Dad survived but his brother didn’t. Potent poem, my friend.
I look forward to reading where your one line took you – thank you for hosting this prompt Lisa and falling on this significant day I felt I had to acknowledge it in poetry, trying to make it personal in human terms
Laura, my pleasure on hosting, and I can see that sergeant’s face from here. All it takes is one glimpse and nothing is ever the same.
You’ve captured it so well in your poem, Laura, the terror of those landings, the awful details. Your opening stanza reminded me of the scene at Omaha Beach from Saving Private Ryan. It’s so strange to think it was only 12 years before I was born. These lines create such an eerie picture:
‘Parachutists plunge silently
into carnage. infantry paddle, wade
belly flop the sands in a slaughter
of shells or drown in the bows.’
thank you Kim – this was not an easy or usual write for me so I appreciate your comment
My pleasure, Laura.
The fatal truth of war is this ugliness, its wholesale bang and slaughter, most dangerous when the sound and sight fades from our celluloid defenses. Tangibly and fully wrought and held where poetry stains time with its permanent ink. At least, we poets like to think so. But only the dead now fully remember.
war is horrible but sometimes inevitable as its a fine line between peace and appeasement – some of the best poetry comes from wars when written by those who were there – consequently I was a little hesitant to write this
I’ve been watching Ken Burns’ Civil War documentary and its clear that if we refuse to see the horrid wretched murderousness of war then we can never truly appreciate peace. War is never more than the last and only possible remedy, war films be damned.
so true Brendan – we need to give thanks for our peace times, something that needs nurturing and preserving as long as is possible in any given circumstance
Arresting title and arresting poem too on this most timely of days. You vividly capture so much that is important here Laura – Bravo…
thank you – I really appreciate your words
The movies are hard to watch and your poem mimics the awful results of war. I can’t help remember…
(War) h’uh
Yeah!
(What is it good for?)
Absolutely (nothin)
a little too glib though methinks
The lyrics are glib but the truth isn’t. As a mom whose son is a veteran and seeing the emotional trauma these young men and women suffer afterwards let alone the physical maiming they endure, is horrible. I’m inclined to believe the wag who said don’t send our youth to die but let the politicians fight it out in an arena. I’d love to see Biden, Putin, Xi Jinping and other leaders do what their armies do to each other.
its understandable Debi but we in Britain were always the next to be invaded and the poem applies only to D-day
I think I am familiar with your work to agree that this is not a usual subject for you to tackle, Laura, but all the more kudos for marking this momentous anniversary with a great poem. With all the coverage – it has been in the back of my mind all day. My only close link to the events is that my mother ran the switchboard in the bunker at Portland where the invasion was planned. Portland was therefore a frequent target and on one occasion she had to grab her landlady’s children and dive for cover when a fighter strafed the garden where they were relaxing. The last time I took my mother out to Weymouth – on a beautiful sunny Summer’s day, she pointed out a hotel onto which a german bomber unloaded it’s bombs killing an entire wedding party that had just arrived there. The sunshine and the incongruity of nearby holiday makers seared the story into my mind and made me see how we cannot take peace for granted. Tragically the war in Ukraine, in our time, has borne this out…
a lot of history in that part of our coast – I know Portland well and there is a memorial in Weymouth to the American servicemen who set out from there for Normandy
Weymouth American Memorial | War Imperial War Museums (iwm.org.uk)
Because my father landed at Normandy, I’ve always wondered what was going on in the soldiers’ minds and they made their journey to that shore. They were so young. Most had never seen actual combat before. We do well to remember them. (K)
history touching you closely Kerfe – and hence I tried here to conjure what the day was like for all these young men
You evoked it well.
thank you
Those images are searing. I wonder who took the pictures?
famous war photographers like Robert Capa and in the boats they had automatic cameras
Hi Laura, a haunting tribute to D-Day.
thank you – good word ‘haunting’
A vivid recreation of the horror of that day, not a word wasted.
Jim
thank you Jim – tried hard not to be verbose
So well done, Laura, bravo.
many thanks
Well done; well captured from the screen side
much🤍love
nice observation Gillena – screen side indeed
Your poem reels through “raw war footage” through the lens of a haunted cinematic eye. A poignant write, Laura, and a fitting commemoration of D-Day.
great feedback Dora – your chosen verb ‘reels’ really underpins the whole poem – thank you