In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae, May 1915
"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."
(the following poem came via email, author unknown)
I watched the flag pass by one day, It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it, And then he stood at ease..
I looked at him in uniform So young, so tall, so proud, With hair cut square and eyes alert He'd stand out in any crowd.
I thought how many men like him Had fallen through the years. How many died on foreign soil How many mothers' tears?
How many pilots' planes shot down? How many died at sea How many foxholes were soldiers' graves? No, freedom isn't free. I heard the sound of Taps one night, When everything was still, I listened to the bugler play And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times That Taps had meant 'Amen,'
When a flag had draped a coffin. Of a brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children, Of the mothers and the wives, Of fathers, sons and husbands With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard
at the bottom of the sea,
Of unmarked graves in Arlington. No, freedom isn't free.
A young Marine saluted it, And then he stood at ease..
I looked at him in uniform So young, so tall, so proud, With hair cut square and eyes alert He'd stand out in any crowd.
I thought how many men like him Had fallen through the years. How many died on foreign soil How many mothers' tears?
How many pilots' planes shot down? How many died at sea How many foxholes were soldiers' graves? No, freedom isn't free. I heard the sound of Taps one night, When everything was still, I listened to the bugler play And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times That Taps had meant 'Amen,'
When a flag had draped a coffin. Of a brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children, Of the mothers and the wives, Of fathers, sons and husbands With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard
at the bottom of the sea,
Of unmarked graves in Arlington. No, freedom isn't free.
Enjoy Your Freedom & God Bless Our Troops
4 comments:
Beautifully put HGF, thank you.
I recently read again the "Penguinb Anthology of First World War Poetry". Dreadfully terribly wonderfully moving. I especially am affected by Seigfried Sassoons war poems, and his war diaries too.
Thanks HGF!
It puts in perspective everyday trials, and also complaining about little problems in our country.
But it also makes me feel the burden of fighting the tide that is carrying our country into oblivion. Freedom is much too precious and costly to let it be taken away from the inside!
I loved your comment on CT's blog about guns and the right to bear arms. also the neo-pelagian comment! We are kindred spirits - you DO love cats, don't you?!
Hi all, thanks for commenting. I couldn't end the day (Memorial Day) without something for the men and women in uniform.
HM, I so understand what you mean with regard to 'dreadfully terribly wonderfully moving'. I've not read too much from WW1, but I've read excerpts from letters and diaries from the American Civil War....very moving!
mdmom,
thanks for your comments regarding CT's blog. As far as i know, no one has added a comment afterwards, so I'm not sure how it was received. :/ It's a balance of presenting an idea/belief for discussion or even polite debate, without offending! :)
cats....hmmm, I'm actually allergic to most of them....however, I have a wonderful feral kitten, born under our front porch, who we adopted, and, of course, he has adopted us...who is absolutely adorable, intelligent, with a personality all of his own; and he doesn't make me sneeze! ;)
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