A Beach in France

Last night I sat and watched a man die
He wasn't afraid he seemed in good cheer.
Last night I sat and asked myself why
A dying man should feel no fear.


One minute he breathed, a faint smile on his face
He wasn't afraid he seemed so at peace
One minute he was here and then he was gone
An empty shell in a lonely space

He said "At last I'm old" and then he died
Too many go young when a thief steals their time
At least he was warm, with a friend by his side
No one should die alone

Last night I sat and watched a man die
He was'nt afraid, he'd faced death before
Last night he told me how he'd stolen his time
On a beach in France in '44'.


From youth he jumped chest high in pink water
Wading ashore in another worlds war
Random selection in a senseless slaughter
Praying to his Jesus for a few minutes more

He killed his first man near that beach in France
Fifty years later he still prayed for his soul
He found his God on that beach in France
Crying in terror in a too shallow hole


(Dedicated to the memory of Sergeant Arthur Walton,
Kings Shropshire Light Infantry)