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Memorial Day

The beach was unrecognizable now, deserted, the white sands pristine, the silence overwhelming.

He stood in the surf where years ago he had clung to the jagged steel of a German hedgehog.

The years fell away and he was nineteen again.

His rifle was useless, resting on the bottom of the sea, his hand shredded by shrapnel.

Bullets flew in all directions, some sounding like song birds, others like angry insects.

With eyes wide open, he saw his dead brothers’ bodies still rocking in the surf.

“What can I do Lord?”

“You can remember!” a voice said.

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