They must have tried to bury the corpses on the beach.
I understand the sentiment, your friend dies and you feel like you have to bury them somewhere, and you’re on a beach.
It seems like a fine idea to bury them there.
Then the tide came, and it took with it the shallow sand.
It was horrific, the corpses of what must have been at least two dozen soldiers all being unearthed and dragged out to sea.
Some got stuck on the beach, baking in the hot sun, the smell was miserable.
I watched a bird pluck the eye from a young woman, she must have been no older than twenty.
I was only sixteen then, but I felt much older, I knew that war took a gruesome toll.
My childhood friend Eric was there with me.
“Do you think their mom’s know what happened to them?” Asked Eric, choking up.
“No, I hope their mom thinks they died a hero.” I responded.
“Maybe they did.” a hint of anger sticking in his throat.
“I don't think so, I don't know if anyone does.”
“I will.” he growled.
“Yeah, maybe”
Eric kicked sand onto one of the corpses, perhaps a heros, a woman who had died for something.
I just saw a lot of people who died too early.
“Sorry.” I muttered to the corpse.
“What?” Asked Eric.
“Nothing.” I responded, turning around to head home.
“Okay.” Said Eric. choking something back