Today marks the 80th anniversary of the tragic events of World War II now known as D-Day. Here is a scene I wrote about it in Love Overseas.
Juno Beach, France
June 6, 1944
Leonard stood where the beach rose to meet the grasslands, his feet still wet from wading through the shallow ocean water. A gust of wind nearly blew his Brodie off his head, and he covered it with his hand to keep it from flying away. He glanced down the beach, now littered with bodies, as he prepared to make his way back through the barbed wire barricade the Germans had built to slow the Allies down.
“Leonard, come back.”
He ignored the unfamiliar voice and kept going. If the Calgary Highlanders were here, he was going to find his brother. Nobody could stop him.
Passing through an opening in the barbed wire, he caught sight of a soldier who appeared in much the same predicament as he was. He seemed to be searching for someone.
“Have you seen my brother? Richard Wilson?” Either the soldier didn’t hear him or he was shell-shocked, because he didn’t respond. The soldier kept scanning the bodies, his mouth agape.
Leonard studied the lifeless bodies scattered in the sea and on the shore. There were so many. How was he ever going to find Rich? Light-headedness caused him to take a steadying breath.
“Leonard!” He looked towards the bank he’d come down. A lone soldier stood, frantically waving his arm. It wasn’t Rich. “Leonard, over here,” the soldier said, still waving like a mad man. Leonard hurried toward the bank, but there were so many bodies, it made running nearly impossible. Unless . . . Images of running over bodies during battle flashed through his mind. There was no need for that now. He could at least show the dead the respect they deserved. His brother could be among them.
Closing in on the bank, he focused on the soldier, a comrade he recognized from years prior. He climbed the small hill that he’d rushed down moments ago to get to the beach.
“Son of a—Calvin? Is that you?”
The two former Rocky Mountain Rangers embraced so hard both their Brodie helmets fell off, rattling away on the ground. When they pulled apart, Calvin asked, “Did I hear you calling for Rich?”
Leonard nodded eagerly. “I heard something about the Highlanders being here.”
Calvin shook his head. “I’m sorry. He’s not here.”
“What do you mean, he’s not here?” Leonard gripped Calvin’s shoulders, fearing the worst. Was Rich face down on the beach?
“They must have meant the Queen’s Own Highlanders,” Calvin added. “The Calgary Highlanders aren’t here.”
Leonard nodded and blew out a breath. Rich and his unit must have been part of the inland attack. Hopefully it went better than it did here on the beach.
Leonard started back down to the beach again, this time with Calvin in tow. Now that he knew Rich’s regiment wasn’t there, the two men joined other soldiers on the beach who were looking for living soldiers among the dead.
My darling Betsy,
I thought I lost my brother Richard today. By the time you get this letter, you will have heard about the massacre at Juno Beach. As far as I know, Rich is still with us, but I can’t bear the thought of losing my brother. We’d always said we’d fight the war together. I can’t stand all this not knowing. I think of my dad often and wonder if he feels the same. I try to keep up with letters home, but it’s hard sometimes. I’d much rather write to you.
I know this is a lot to ask, but it would mean so much to me. If anything happens to me, could you please make sure my dad is okay? Perhaps you could take him my identity disc if you are able to retrieve it? I’m sorry, this letter is awfully morbid. Let’s hope it won’t come to that, but I’d like him to know I was thinking about him in the end. Of course I will be thinking of you too.
Betsy wiped tears from her cheeks as she folded Leonard’s last letter and tucked it back in its envelope. It wasn’t like his usual cheery and loving letters. More like a last request. She knew he was likely to request something like this eventually. The realities of war. Being married to a military man meant being prepared for anything. Even the worst.
Dear Leonard,
Although I prefer not to think of it, of course, I will make sure your dad is all right. Let’s pray it doesn’t come to that, and when the war ends, you can take me to check on your dad yourself.
She wanted to tell him about Aycliffe, even though there wasn’t much to report, but she always worried about giving too many details and having her letter blacked out or destroyed by the censors. This one needed to get to Leonard. His pain radiated through his words as she’d read them. The war was wearing on him. At least she could provide him with this small comfort of her love and her promise.
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