164843 004 5B602499

On D-Day in Philly, in Forty-Four,
I, at fifteen, sat on the floor –

All night long, as it turned out to be –
It was finally D-Day, a big deal for me.

The radio screeched from the undersea cable.
I pressed my ear close, to hear what I was able.

For months we had known this day was to come.
I was excited, somewhat more than some.

I had followed the war since I heard of Pearl Harbor.
Having been out all day, when I saw the ajar-door.

I found everyone around the radio clustered;
“Japanese” and, “Pearl Harbor” were the few words I mustered.

The next day, at Junior High, we met in assembly.
Roosevelt on the radio spoke of an, “Infamy.”

The Philadelphia Inquirer showed maps every day;
Two theaters of action were always in play.

The world opened to me on the Seventh of December,
Cascading in with news I’ll always remember.

Ration books followed – less dairy and meats;
Air Raid Wardens pounded their beats.

Black curtains covered home lights and cars;
The only things allowed to shine at night were the stars.

Those elsewhere would laugh at these things;
We had no idea on what real life clings

Quite superficial for us was the war;
It went for us as with me on the floor:

Listening to disembodied reports of men dying –
Excited and interested, but not even crying.

Curtis W. Long

Curtis W. Long

This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.
Recent Articles
The Cause Lost Was Treachery
The day the virus came

  • No comments found