The day we landed

by Pritam S. Rana

It was six in the morning
as we climbed down the nets
to the old wooden boats rolling fiercely
huddled together in groups of eights.

Our hopes were high for all of us expected
the Turks would simply turn and run
at the sight of our mighty fleet which had blasted
beaches, forts, man and gun.

We went forward to the beaches and the rocks
of Achi Baba and Kilid Bahr defiant and proud
crushing the silence of many peaceful nights.
Black and white smoke obscured beaches, explosions
were loud.

Thunderclaps, machine guns, and whizzing bullets,
the Turks had prepared a nasty welcome.
Men fell screaming as bullets hit chests and limbs
even before they had stepped on the beaches.

Chanting ‘Hail Mary!’ the men went ahead,
jumping out and running forward,
carrying rifle and rucksack, holding on to the helmet,
desperate for cover.

Men may have lost hope as they lay prone on the round
pinned down by enemy fire, shellshocked.
The wounded and the dead littered the ground.

The enemy was well dug-in
while our fellows were scattered about,
Oh, how much we wished for the days in Dublin,
the officers barked to keep our hearts stout.

We prayed for the day to die soon
for the darkness would shield us for the night.
In the cool light of the waxing moon
we began to dig for the next day’s fight.

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