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".