In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918) Canadian Army
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.
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.
Being an army brat, I have attended many, many Remembrance Sunday Parades in several countries, on various camps. My father was always on parade. I never cease to be moved by the two minute silence because no matter what or where, the traffic and throngs always come to a complete standstill. The eeriness, especially on a cold, English November morning, always makes it seem to me, that the entire world has come to a stop as one can literally hear a pin drop.
Old soldiers never die
They simply fade they say
Is that the price I ask myself
That soldiers have to pay?
Bugle notes and drum beat
Flash of sun on brass
He hears the call as comrades all
Tramp the long march past
Warriors fading quickly
Like a weak pale winter sun
Bowed and creeping slowly
Life's race is all but run
The red poppy leaves are wrinkled
One by one they fall
Soldier, can you answer still
When the bugle notes do call
Play the music gently
No harsh notes sound, I ask
For the poppy leaves are falling
Glory days now past
They simply fade they say
Is that the price I ask myself
That soldiers have to pay?
Bugle notes and drum beat
Flash of sun on brass
He hears the call as comrades all
Tramp the long march past
Warriors fading quickly
Like a weak pale winter sun
Bowed and creeping slowly
Life's race is all but run
The red poppy leaves are wrinkled
One by one they fall
Soldier, can you answer still
When the bugle notes do call
Play the music gently
No harsh notes sound, I ask
For the poppy leaves are falling
Glory days now past
London Sunday 13 November 2011
Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II leads military members of the Royal Family, military personnel and politicians in tribute the war dead
HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge lays a wreath at The Cenotaph
British soldiers and one Estonian, right, at a Remembrance Sunday parade ay Lashgar Gar base in Helmand province
Let us never forget those who gave their lives in WWI and all the wars that have followed and continue to this day. Let us ensure that our children and grandchildren know their history and never be allowed to forget those who fought for and continue to fight for, their and their children's freedom .
beautiful stuff Barbara. Thank you so much for such a beautiful tribute.
ReplyDeleteI too was an army brat and concur with everything you say here. I watched a little service along my High Street yesterday and was moved to see a couple of council workers stop dead still and stand , heads bowed for the two minutes silence. Once the last post was played they then carried on as before ... just as it should be.
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