In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below
“We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.”
“Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.”
Major John McCrae, MD
Canadian Army
At the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918, the Great War ends. (Later to be known as WWI)
Germany, destitute of resources and manpower, knowing invasion of the homeland was eminent, signed an armistice agreement with the Allies in a railroad car near Compiegne, France. Word spread quickly and the great battlefronts grew quiet. At the appointed hour cheers rose from the trenches on both sides and the former foes joined one another in celebration.
The poem “In Flanders Fields”, written by Major John McCrae, a surgeon of the Canadian Army. Major McCrae wrote the poem after he lost his dear friend, Lt. Alexis Helmer in battle on May 2, 1915. The day after his friend was buried Major McCrae penned his now famous poem while musing Lt. Helmers death and watching wild poppies sway in the wind at the cemetery where he was buried.
McCrae initially tossed the poem away but a fellow officer retrieved it and it was published by “Punch” newspaper in England in 1915.
On June 4th, 1926 a resolution by congress officially designated November 11th as “Armistice Day” in remembrance of the end of the war.
Congress approved an act on June 1st, 1954 to change the name to “Veterans Day” in order to honor all Veterans of the U.S. armed services.
In Canada November 11th is known as “Remembrance Day” in honor of their veterans.
God bless all of those who have served and died to keep us free.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
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1 comment:
This has always been one of my favorite poems. I can't read or recite it without being emotional.
Flanders Fields was written during "The War to End All Wars".
Since then, we have sent countless others to find their places in other fields; in other lands, in other wars.
Its a horrific toll that we are asked to pay, while those who make these decisions for us sit comfotably with their own loved ones; safe and close by, and out of harm's way.
As we remember those who have fallen, let us not add to their numbers.
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