All It Takes

May 29, 1950

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May 29, 1950

Caswell Beach, Oak Island, N.C., U.S.A.

The waves that lapped at the shore always seemed to ease the memories, taking away the sting of pain that came with them. He leaned against the post of the private walkway, careful of his bare feet on the old weathered wood. The light of day slowly began to wean away, bright hues of the sunset glinting off the dark water. A light breath exhaled from his lips at the peacefulness of it all. The only sounds that came from the landscape were of the sea grass blowing in the breeze and the waves rolling onto shore.

Families walked up and down the coastline, laughing and smiling at things unheard to him. They seemed so at ease. The beaches of Oak Island were much kinder than those of Normandy, but even hundreds of miles away, he could feel the tightness and fear he had felt that day as if it were happening all over again. His part in the war had been brief, but its effects reached much further than he had ever anticipated.

The beer held loosely in his hand shook as he brought it up to his mouth, taking a large gulp as the memory came again. Once cold, but now lukewarm liquid ran down his throat, his eyes squeezing shut, trying so hard to block it all out. Like always though, he couldn't shut out what was already buried deep in his mind.