D-day - The Hands of War
The boat stopped, our stomachs churned, just like the waves in front of us
We ran, our legs beneath the tide, our guns clutched. We ran, our prayers hung in mid sentence. We ran.
They shot, their guns rattled, spewing empty cartridges like an active volcano. They shot, their shells thumping flinging dirt and blood from the ground. They shot.
We prayed knowing deep in our hearts that God was now out of the question- “Will we live?” We prayed even though we knew God could not hear us in this bloody racket. We prayed.
They tore our army as if we were worthless papers. They tore our flesh and will from our bodies with their never-ending cascade of metal. They tore.
We ran and prayed, knowing that we had been torn from the hands of hope and had been put into new hands.
We had run into the ruthless, unforgiving hands of war.
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