Easy
Company in France: After D-Day by Don
Malarkey
Normandy, France, was beauty and the beast. The sprinkling of land unspoiled
by war was the beauty. We, the soldiers, were the beasts. I'd see miles and
miles of fields and orchards that, in places, reminded me of spots I'd seen in
the Willamette Valley while hitchhiking from Astoria to Eugene back in Oregon.
Then, suddenly, I'd see the remains of a horse splattered by artillery, the legs
here, the head there. In some places, a breeze would bring the smell of grass
and trees; in others, the rancid odor of death. Germans. Americans. Civilians.
Animals. Whatever got in the way of war. One of the biggest problems we were
having was taking care of our dead—getting them buried. Some of our Graves
Registration guys resorted to getting drunk to do their jobs...
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