A Memorial To History -6/6/44

My father’s memorial to his service during the D-Day Invasion.

My eyes tracked a thin line of blue smoke from the cellar rafters down to a smoking cigarette.

The brass ashtray, coins and cartridges spurred my curiosity as a kid in my Dad’s musty basement workshop.

What happened June 6, 1944?

The battered memorial anchored the left side of my father’s stained, chipped workbench.