On D-Day, 2015

Photo by baptisteh.CC0/Public Domain license.

Photo by baptisteh.
CC0/Public Domain license.

Lest anyone imagine
a solid wall
between the worlds
of history and fiction:

This Morning:
In the novel
I’m listening to in my car,
I hear how Minka, the title character,
is marched from Auschwitz,
escapes, then is re-captured
and sent to Bergen-Belsen.

This Afternoon:
My friend Stewart
posts a D-Day tribute
on his Facebook page,
a photo of soldiers
landing in Normandy.
The caption reads:
“My Dad was among them–
all the way to the liberation
of Bergen-Belsen in April, 1945.”

Early This Evening:
With errands to run
I’m back in the car,
continuing my book.
Minka comes down with typhus.
She falls on the ground
and awaits being shot,
but no bullet comes.

Finally, she looks up.
White flags are flying from
unoccupied guard towers.
Raising her head further,
she sees in the distance,
winding down the road,
a convoy of trucks,
red crosses on their sides.

The British soldiers
are arriving.

and I can see
Stewart’s father
among them.