Jeremy Hughes
Ryes, Normandy
6th June 1994
I was the first visitor of the day.
Dew was heavy in the grass. It soaked my feet.
The stones bore inscriptions given by the families.
I ran my hand over the names as if they were faces.
I did not know where the time had gone.
I read the visitors' book.
An officer had come to see his men.
Sons and daughters were visiting their fathers, at last.
A child had written that he'd found his great-grandfather.
Later in the day I sat outside a café
and thought about what I'd left behind.
Fifty years. Footprints. Words:
'Some of the men buried here were my patients.
Elinor Llewellyn, Nurse 1944'.
Page(s) 56
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