Posted on 05/28/2012 11:58:02 AM PDT by Kaslin
Every Memorial Day, I try to read this poem. If you have a moment, please go to the website, My Memorial Day and record a video. It means a lot to the people that have served, or are serving.
At the National World War Two Museum in New Orleans, Louisiana, they will have Memorial Day rememberances. If you are on Facebook, here is the museum’s Facebook page. Like it.
Here is the poem. It was actually written during World War One. But it’s great to remember and dedicate the fallen of any war. Mind you, the idea is not to get into a war in the first place. They are awful. I know many people that have fought, and to a person none of them say it’s pleasant. It’s a gruesome experience that can haunt you. One of the great things about the National World War Two Museum is our dedication to education so that something like that is less likely to happen again.
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.
Tonight, at your dinner, say a little prayer for the people in the military today. Maybe have a moment of silence for the ones that have fallen in the past.
Prayers up for all who served, past & present.
We owe them a debt of gratitude way beyond our ability to say in mere words, but that poem comes pretty darn close.
Thanks for post.
Here is another war poem. This was written by Joyce Kilmer, more famously, the author of ‘Trees’. Joyce died a soldier in WW I.
Rouge Bouquet
In a wood they call the Rouge Bouquet
There is a new-made grave to-day,
Built by never a spade nor pick
Yet covered with earth ten metres thick.
There lie many fighting men,
Dead in their youthful prime,
Never to laugh nor love again
Nor taste the Summertime.
For Death came flying through the air
And stopped his flight at the dugout stair,
Touched his prey and left them there,
Clay to clay.
He hid their bodies stealthily
In the soil of the land they fought to free
And fled away.
Now over the grave abrupt and clear
Three volleys ring;
And perhaps their brave young spirits hear
The bugle sing:
“Go to sleep!
Go to sleep!
Slumber well where the shell screamed and fell.
Let your rifles rest on the muddy floor,
You will not need them any more.
Danger’s past;
Now at last,
Go to sleep!”
There is on earth no worthier grave
To hold the bodies of the brave
Than this place of pain and pride
Where they nobly fought and nobly died.
Never fear but in the skies
Saints and angels stand
Smiling with their holy eyes
On this new-come band.
St. Michael’s sword darts through the air
And touches the aureole on his hair
As he sees them stand saluting there,
His stalwart sons;
And Patrick, Brigid, Columkill
Rejoice that in veins of warriors still
The Gael’s blood runs.
And up to Heaven’s doorway floats,
From the wood called Rouge Bouquet,
A delicate cloud of buglenotes
That softly say:
“Farewell!
Farewell!
Comrades true, born anew, peace to you!
Your souls shall be where the heroes are
And your memory shine like the morning-star.
Brave and dear,
Shield us here.
Farewell!”
The soil at the front, disturbed by shelling, and
enriched by the Nitrogen from the explosives made
a good growing enviroment for the poppies.
We just got back from the cemetery where we laid to rest a young friend who was killed in Afghanistan last Memorial Day.
Google or search Facebook for the wonderful WW 1 museum in Kansas City.
Here’s my rendition of “In Flanders Fields”. It’s a poem I had heard many times, but one Memorial Day, I heard it in a different way. I realized our country is in danger of dropping the torch.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hss6kWXIiEY
Thanks for posting that, I never read it before.
RIP all who died in war defending our country and our hard won freedoms, esp. hubby’s uncle Martin who died in Guam during WWII.
Thank you for posting this poem. I first read it when my grandmother (who was a nurse on the front in WW I) gave it to me after my hometown lost its first soldier in Vietnam. We lost 6 more over the years and I’ve never forgotten them.
May we always take time..quietly..to reflect on those who short days ago lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow...
They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old.
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning.
We will remember them.
Laurence Binyon (1869-1943).
This band of brothers.
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