Posted on 11/11/2015 8:53:37 AM PST by Uncle Miltie
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.
As true and pertinent today as it was then, nearly 100 years ago.
“As true and pertinent today as it was then, nearly 100 years ago.”
Yes it is.
Thank you for posting this - it is most memorable to me.
I remember setting out a field of little crosses and poppies with my folks on Memorial and Veterans Day, a VFW project that I didn’t understand the significance of until later. My dad passed away last year, age 90, WWII - the Big Red One. Purple Heart, Silver Star, Bronze Star medal.
I appreciate you allowing me to use this thread to say thank you Dad, and to all veterans.
Actually, a little over 100 years ago.
Written in May, 1915, but not published until December, 1915.
The Eleventh Hour.
The Eleventh Day.
The Eleventh Month.
There is hardly anyone alive who remembers.
bttt
Canadian Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae died of pneumonia in 1918.
The genius of this poem lies in the last lines of verses two and three; the words “In Flanders Field”.
Every other line in the poem is written in Iambic Quatrameter. Each line has 4 Iambs (da-DUH da-DUH da-DUH da-DUH), except for these two, which are cut short at two Iambs... signifying the lives cut short by the war.
Spent a year in hospitals, in France and Carlisle,PA
Discharged Dec, 1919. Received a final payment of $64.00 total for his service. No GI Bill for the "Doughboys." But he was awarded a Purple Heart when the medal was designated in the 30's. I still have the medal.
Many records were destroyed by a fire in the War Dept, but I was able to get lots of information about his service and injury.
He never talked about the war. But he read "In Flanders Fields" to me when I was little. I'm not sure why, but it made me cry.
God bless you, Dad.
The last US WWI veteran (Frank Buckle) died a year or two ago in West Virginia.
Yep, all those who fought are gone.
All who are left, have dimming vision and fading memories.
My personal favorite WWI tale is the Christmas Cease-fire.
My father was in the Navy and in a couple of engagements during that war, when they were headed back to port the morning before they arrived the Chief told my father to go and get a new flag to put up before they pulled into Pearl. The old one was torn in half about even with the blue field and smelled like diesel fuel from the smoke stacks. He told my dad to keep it and show it to your grand-kids and tell them what we did. It is the most valued possession I have.
My wifes great grandfather was french and killed a Verdun 6 weeks before her grandfather was born.
When it got to the part about feeling the warmth of dawn and the glow of sunset, the screen got real blurry. Almost couldn’t finish; but the final challenge from the dead to the living startled me out of that foolish reverie.
My name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool, Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school. To Belgium and to Flanders to Germany to here I fought for King and country I love dear. Twas Christmas in the trenches where the frost so bitter hung, The frozen fields of France were still, no Christmas song was sung, Our families back in England were toasting us that day, Their brave and glorious lads so far away.
I was lying with my messmate on the cold and rocky ground When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound Says I, "Now listen up, me boys!" each soldier strained to hear As one young German voice sang out so clear. "Hes singing bloody well, you know!" my partner says to me Soon one by one each German voice joined in in harmony The cannons rested silent, the gas clouds rolled no more As Christmas brought us respite from the war.
As soon as they were finished and a reverent pause was spent "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" struck up some lads from Kent The next they sang was "Stille Nacht," "Tis Silent Night," says I And in two tongues one song filled up that sky. "Theres someone coming towards us!" the front line sentry cried All sights were fixed on one lone figure coming from their side His truce flag, like a Christmas star, shone on that plain so bright As he bravely strode unarmed into the night.
Soon one by one on either side walked into No Mans land With neither gun nor bayonet we met there hand to hand We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well And in a flare-lit soccer game we gave em hell. We traded chocolates, cigarettes, and photographs from home These sons and fathers far away from families of their own Young Sanders played his squeeze box and they had a violin This curious and unlikely band of men.
Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more With sad farewells we each began to settle back to war But the question haunted every heart that lived that wondrous night "Whose family have I fixed within my sights?" Twas Christmas in the trenches, where the frost so bitter hung The frozen fields of France were warmed as songs of peace were sung For the walls theyd kept between us to exact the work of war Had been crumbled and were gone for evermore.
My name is Francis Tolliver, in Liverpool I dwell Each Christmas come since World War I Ive learned its lessons well That the ones who call the shots wont be among the dead and lame And on each end of the rifle were the same.
Thanks for pointing that out.
In Flanders fields the poppies grow
I think it “grow” not blow
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