Ode to Omaha
By: Wayne Brown
The Krauts relax their guard
The weather is their friend
Europe is firmly in their grasp
But their hunger is not yet fed
Where will it end, Where will it end?
The moon is full to light the night sky
A brief respite in weather’s onslaught
We must go now to have the moon and tide
Thousands of us wait in anxious woe
How bad will it be, how bad will it be?
And then the final word is given
Our task looms at hand
We will storm the beaches with all our might
The Krauts turn in shock
How many will die, How many will die?
The rough wind-driven ocean waves
Toss about our little crafts
The Germans sense our presence now
They prepare; ready to shoot
Who will fall, who will fall?
The doors fall down and out we go
Into the ocean surf
The cold water is deep and steeped in lead
Blood runs free, the waters are red
Can the beach be far, can it be so far?
Comrades fall from bloody wounds
And drown underweight in beating surf
Still we come to take back this land
More blood; more death
When can we rest, when can we rest?
The beach is won; the struggle ensues
Comrades are upon the sand
Comrades float lifelessly in the surf
Man has killed each other
What is it worth, what is it worth?
Death did land upon Omaha
In the land of Normandy
Death was the price of this land
Death in the water; death in the sand
What glory is death, what glory?
For all eternity we here remain
Here we took our stand
Bravery was our namesake
Courage was ours to keep
We asked nothing from those we saved
Except remember me, remember me.
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