d**h was everywhere,
in the air
and in the sounds
coming off the mounds
of Bolton's Ridge.
d**h's anchorage.
When you rolled a smoke
or told a joke,
it was in the laughter
and drinking water
it approached the beach
as strings of cutters,
dropped into the sea and lay around us.
d**h was in the ancient fortress,
shelled by a million bullets
from gunners, waiting in the copses
with hearts that threatened to pop their boxes,
as we advanced into the sun
d**h was all and everyone.
d**h hung in the smoke and clung
to 400 acres of useless beachfront.
A bank of red earth, dripping down d**h
now, and now, and now
in the air
and in the sounds
coming off the mounds
of Bolton's Ridge.
d**h's anchorage.
d**h was in the staring sun,
fixing its eyes on everyone.
It rattled the bones of the Light Horsemen
still lying out there in the open
as we, advancing in the sun
sing "d**h to all and everyone".