Nestling beneath two wool blankets.

Precious Cristina. Courageous Cristina. She had her mind set. On seeing Omaha Beach. Despite the bitter cold, gale-force winds. Coming off the turbulent Atlantic. There she was. Risking. Being blown away. I could only imagine. After all, I stayed away. In the safety and warmth of our hotel room.  A sniffling and coughing coward. Thinking. That the better part of valor. Was to protect myself from the elements. Rather than feel. What it must have been like. To storm the beach. On D-Day. Yes, I felt a wee bit guilty And shamed.  When a shivering and exhausted Cristina. Traipsed back into the room. Late that afternoon.  To tell me what it was like. To land on the beach. With a tour guide and two visiting Dutchmen from South Africa. ‘Keep me warm,’ Cristina pleaded. ‘Keep me warm. Keep me warm.’ I did. As my heroine and dear commander demanded. We nestled. Beneath two wool blankets. --Jim Broede