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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.

-J. McCrae, 1915

In honor of Remembrance Day, in the UK, Canada, Australia, and other Commonwealth countries, and Veteran’s Day in the U.S., for those who served and died in World War I.

When I was in England a year ago, I was in Bath on Remembrance Day. At a memorial presentation, I struck up a conversation with a gentleman who was a former British Army solider. We talked about the significance of World War I to Great Britain, as compared to World War II, and he explained to me the devastation that the war caused to the psyche of the country. He told me that his grandfather died at Ypres and was never recovered, and that about half a million Commonwealth soldiers have never been found. He works with a group that continues to hunt for remains, and reported that he has found three sets of remains, himself, over the years. My paternal grandfather was a WWI vet, which I’ve written about here.

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Categories: History