Normandy

thirteen
he panicked
terrified by shot and shell
he fled
the relative safety
of the family cellar
and ran screaming
into the hell
of gun and artillery fire
around them

his father
equally terrified
but bound by paternal love
chased after him

he found his son
cowering in a shell hole
clipped by shrapnel
alive
terrified
suffering

he helped
the boy up
to return him
to his mother
and brothers
and sister
still hiding
in the cellar

a bullet
German or American
it doesn’t matter
hit the father
in the nape of his neck
and blew his face off

the boy
in shock
wandered the battlefield

they say God
looks after
fools
drunks
children
if true
who are we
to be wise
or sober?

somebody
brought him
to the field hospital
where they treated him
as best they could 

gradually
his shock subsided
and gradually
he realized in horror
what he had done
how his father died
for him

how could
he ever
tell his mother?
console his siblings?

In that cold field hospital
surrounded by screaming and dying soldiers
he wept silently
ashamed
self-loathing
damning himself to hell
for what he had done

days later
when the shooting stopped
and victory declared
the parish priest
came to him
with sad news

his family
hiding in their cellar
were obliterated
when an invaders’ shell
fell short
striking their house 

he was
the sole survivor

if he stayed
in the house
he would be dead
his father would be dead
his mother
and brothers
and sisters
would still be dead

by running
he survived
and through him
his family line
would survive

now which
do you suppose
would be
the greater
burden
to bear?

© Buzz Dixon

My thanks to Dale Booth for telling me this incredible story.  
Be sure to get Dale and co-author Stuart Robinson’s excellent book
D-Day June 6 1944: Following in the Footsteps of Heroes