397 www.on.legion.ca ONTARIO COMMAND ESSAY: Juno Beach Juno beach. That's where they told us. the 3rd Infantry Division, we were going. My heart is beating so fast, with each beat it inches its way toward my throat, in synchronization with the rocking waves. I clench my fists, my palms slick with sweat, and I glance at the solemn faces of my comrades, instead of fixing my gaze blankly ahead. I could die here. The dire realization hits me now, crashing over me like a cold tidal wave. The reality of war is suddenly looming over us like a dark, ominous shadow. I imagine death beckoning us on the approaching shore. Dread fills my being, my bones, colder than all the negative, swirling fears in my head, in my chest, and in my gut. The feelings make me a cold, numb statue, staring, emotionless and blank, as dominant, primal fear screams at me to jump off and swim for shore. I wonder if my comrades are thinking likewise. Tears cloud my eyes; my comrades. They all stare blankly ahead, whether firm in their resolve or scared of breaking, I couldn't tell. They are human; they are capable of anguish, pain, and sadness. So are their families, at an even higher rate. I harden again. The war needs us. I am ready for battle. I hear a soft thud as the barge bumps the shore; we're here. Now we fight. Today we give our all, or we die in vain. For nothing today, but maybe tomorrow for a greater something. World peace isn't free. The bascule crashes onto the sand, and that's when the massacre begins. I watch, detached, as we're struck down by thundering bullets slicing the air, as if hit by an invisible force. A bullet pierces my skin, and I have a fleeting moment of oblivion to wonder: why would humans do this to other humans? Pain suddenly shatters my blissful moment, and thick, sharp, piercing waves of pain surge through me like a forest fire. I crash onto the sand, where it's soft and I'm reminded of my safe bed, my home, my rna's warm kiss. I register, astounded, that I am dying. A medic rushes over, his expression one of grief. I'm reminded of my mother's tight embrace. "Please come back," she whispered, voice shaking. "Please." The memory revives me. I look up. "Go," I say, tears in my eyes again. It hurts to breathe. "Save someone who can still fight," I wheezed. "Tell my parents ... I'll miss them." The medic's expression hardens with steely determination. He nods, and the crew moves on. As the noise of boots fades away, I'm by myself on the sand, dying. I make one last promise to myself: I must remember. I must, I must remember. This is my final promise, no matter where I go. I will remember. Each face, each life, each sacrifice, each death. I take in the stark gray skies one last time. I close my eyes and let the dark waves pull me under.
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