On D-Day in Philly, in Forty-Four,
I, at fifteen, sat on the floor –
All night long, as it turned out to be –
It was finally D-Day, a big deal for me.
The radio screeched from the undersea cable.
I pressed my ear close, to hear what I was able.
For months we had known this day was to come.
I was excited, somewhat more than some.
I had followed the war since I heard of Pearl Harbor.
Having been out all day, when I saw the ajar-door.
I found everyone around the radio clustered;
“Japanese” and, “Pearl Harbor” were the few words I mustered.
The next day, at Junior High, we met in assembly.
Roosevelt on the radio spoke of an, “Infamy.”
The Philadelphia Inquirer showed maps every day;
Two theaters of action were always in play.
The world opened to me on the Seventh of December,
Cascading in with news I’ll always remember.
Ration books followed – less dairy and meats;
Air Raid Wardens pounded their beats.
Black curtains covered home lights and cars;
The only things allowed to shine at night were the stars.
Those elsewhere would laugh at these things;
We had no idea on what real life clings
Quite superficial for us was the war;
It went for us as with me on the floor:
Listening to disembodied reports of men dying –
Excited and interested, but not even crying.
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