
Rolling on the Beach
I overslept for D-Day. Got there two days late. “I couldn’t figure out what the ‘D’ stood for, Sir. I’ll catch up with you in Caen.” And so it happened that I had to storm the beaches on my own. I’m not an Armchair General, pondering the situation at D-Day at Omaha Beach while sucking on my pipe. I’m not even a Lieutenant general, chewing my cigar while strategizing through D-Day Dice. I’m just an ordinary grunt, rolling tobacco in one pocket, rolling dice in the other. Quick