Just as an aside – I think this is photo of the Canadians landing at Juno Beach.
T.C.
November 11, 2010 10:16 am
or maybe not…
Leon Brozyna
November 11, 2010 10:31 am
Thanks for the posting.
My how the times have changed (for the better).
When I served we were encouraged when traveling to do so in civilian garb to avoid the insults we might experience in uniform, during the 70s, when Viet Nam was so unpopular. Now troops can travel in their fatigues and be greeted as heroes, even if Iraq and Afganistan aren’t as ‘popular’ as they were early in the decade.
It is good to see.
Anthony
November 11, 2010 10:56 am
Grandfather – WWII – Pacific – Artillery Battery
Great Uncle – WWII – Battle of the Bulge – KIA
Thank you.
[Moderator NOTE: Not the same Anthony as the blog owner]
Armistice Day, and most especially the Two Minutes Silence at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day, holds a very special place in the hearts of the British. In town and country alike, at the stroke of 11:00am people stop where they are and they remember the fallen; not just the British and Commonwealth dead but the dead of all nations.
Then this happens. http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1328703/Remembrance-Day-Poppy-burning-Muslim-protesters-mar-Armistice-Day.html
juanslayton
November 11, 2010 11:08 am
RR Kampen:
It’s good that you have the freedom to express your opinion. I will use this day to honor the men and women who gave you that freedom.
“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends”
-John 15:13
Andrew
Andrew30
November 11, 2010 11:13 am
You’ll find the cost of freedom buried in the ground.
CSN&Y
Evan Jones
Editor
November 11, 2010 11:19 am
Father — WWII — ETO — Bradley’s HQ
Uncle — WWII — PTO — AAF, KIA 1944
Uncle — WWII — PTO — Served on the (original) Fletcher (11 of 13 Battle stars)
Uncle — WWII — ETO — Infantry, Bronze Star
Uncle (by marriage) — WWII — ETO, CAF — 13 Victories (P-47).
Et al.
ShrNfr
November 11, 2010 11:55 am
I thank all those who had the courage to serve, Be it WW 1, WW 2, Korea, Vietnam, the Gulf, or just the mundane sitting around waiting for all hell to break loose. I consider it an honor to buy a poppy from my local VFW post. My mother was a nurse in WW 2 that hit Normandy soon after we did. She followed along behind the front lines setting up field hospitals. Basically the MASH of the time. She had many stories of people of great courage, valor, and dedication. I will not play my relatives did more than yours in this post. I will just state that I have relatives that served in the Spanish American War (uncle by marriage), WW 1, and WW2. These people are the people who made America what it was. A nation that believed in freedom. I commend Truman for his desegregation of the armed forces. It was long overdue. It is sad that now we have in place a bunch of climate moonbats and people who are not in touch with the reality of a out of control 12er Shia’ nutcase running Iran. Hopefully the wheel will turn again.
Uncles — England, France, Belgium, Aleutian Isl., WWII
Grandfather — France, WWI
GG Grandfather — Missouri, Civil War on the Union Side. His brother was in the CSA.
GG Grandfather — Mexico, Mexican War
GGGG Grandfather — War of 1812
GGGGG (or thereabouts) Grandfather — French and Indian War, Revolutionary War
GGGGGG (or thereabouts) Grandfather — Scotland, Jacobite Revolt (Losing side)
Me — CDR USN (Ret.) and I keep the memories of old warriors alive by writing WWII novels.
TimiBoy
November 11, 2010 12:06 pm
A Government Department in Victoria, a State of Australia, refused to observe a minute’s silence, as they didn’t want to offend other cultures.
Shame.
The Greens want to close the Coral Sea to all forms of Fishing – everything – to honour our fallen Heroes, among other things. Is that what they died for?
For me? A day of reflection, and grateful thanks to my many relatives who fought, suffered (and a couple died) in Foreign Lands for Australia. But also a day that highlights the insidious risks to that hard won Freedom we now face.
Cheers,
Tim
It’s 11:00 a.m. on the 11th day of the 11th month on the US West Coast.
We paused in silent remembrance.
“Thank you” is just not enough.
FijiDave
November 11, 2010 12:18 pm
My father notes in his log for 6th June 1944, “Patrolling rds behind invasion beachead.”[sic] It was his 69th operation.
2 hours 50 minutes at night in a Mosquito of No. 487 Sqn.
He said that as he flew over the beaches toward England in the dawn, he could see the whole invasion fleet laid out before him. He never forgot it. He also said that he just avoided a church steeple (he belatedly saw it silhouetted against the sky), which almost caused subsequent underwear laundry! When he landed he had some French hedge foliage snagged in the tail wheel. He must have been a bit low!
I salute him and the 48 young men out of the original 50 that he trained with who lost their lives, and of course all of the others from many nations that stood to for freedom from tyranny.
FijiDave
November 11, 2010 12:23 pm
Further to the above, my mother’s brother was shot down and killed over Kiel.
My father-in-law who was badly wounded in North Africa, was born in New Zealand on 12 November 1918 (11th in Britain), and named what else but Victor.
“Lest we forget.”
Athelstan
November 11, 2010 1:34 pm
For the lads in Afghanistan and for those who paid the ultimate sacrifice, so that we may live in freedom, God bless you all.
Curiousgeorge
November 11, 2010 2:18 pm
Since folks seem to be posting various family military history:
Me: USMC 1963-1983. Beyond that it goes back to 1632 – every war, police action or revolution that has involved what is now the USA, has involved members of my family since then and up to the present day. I’m saddened by that fact but recognize the necessity that some must die, that others may live. As it has been throughout history, so shall it be in the future.
I’m reminded of Patton’s poem. THROUGH A GLASS, DARKLY
by Gen. George S. Patton, Jr.
Through the travail of the ages,
Midst the pomp and toil of war,
Have I fought and strove and perished
Countless times upon this star.
In the form of many people
In all panoplies of time
Have I seen the luring vision
Of the Victory Maid, sublime.
I have battled for fresh mammoth,
I have warred for pastures new,
I have listed to the whispers
When the race trek instinct grew.
I have known the call to battle
In each changeless changing shape
From the high souled voice of conscience
To the beastly lust for rape.
I have sinned and I have suffered,
Played the hero and the knave;
Fought for belly, shame, or country,
And for each have found a grave.
I cannot name my battles
For the visions are not clear,
Yet, I see the twisted faces
And I feel the rending spear.
Perhaps I stabbed our Savior
In His sacred helpless side.
Yet, I’ve called His name in blessing
When after times I died.
In the dimness of the shadows
Where we hairy heathens warred,
I can taste in thought the lifeblood;
We used teeth before the sword.
While in later clearer vision
I can sense the coppery sweat,
Feel the pikes grow wet and slippery
When our Phalanx, Cyrus met.
Hear the rattle of the harness
Where the Persian darts bounced clear,
See their chariots wheel in panic
From the Hoplite’s leveled spear.
See the goal grow monthly longer,
Reaching for the walls of Tyre.
Hear the crash of tons of granite,
Smell the quenchless eastern fire.
Still more clearly as a Roman,
Can I see the Legion close,
As our third rank moved in forward
And the short sword found our foes.
Once again I feel the anguish
Of that blistering treeless plain
When the Parthian showered death bolts,
And our discipline was in vain.
I remember all the suffering
Of those arrows in my neck.
Yet, I stabbed a grinning savage
As I died upon my back.
Once again I smell the heat sparks
When my Flemish plate gave way
And the lance ripped through my entrails
As on Crecy’s field I lay.
In the windless, blinding stillness
Of the glittering tropic sea
I can see the bubbles rising
Where we set the captives free.
Midst the spume of half a tempest
I have heard the bulwarks go
When the crashing, point blank round shot
Sent destruction to our foe.
I have fought with gun and cutlass
On the red and slippery deck
With all Hell aflame within me
And a rope around my neck.
And still later as a General
Have I galloped with Murat
When we laughed at death and numbers
Trusting in the Emperor’s Star.
Till at last our star faded,
And we shouted to our doom
Where the sunken road of Ohein
Closed us in it’s quivering gloom.
So but now with Tanks a’clatter
Have I waddled on the foe
Belching death at twenty paces,
By the star shell’s ghastly glow.
So as through a glass, and darkly
The age long strife I see
Where I fought in many guises,
Many names, but always me.
And I see not in my blindness
What the objects were I wrought,
But as God rules o’er our bickerings
It was through His will I fought.
So forever in the future,
Shall I battle as of yore,
Dying to be born a fighter,
But to die again, once more.
vigilantfish
November 11, 2010 2:19 pm
DesertYote says:
November 11, 2010 at 9:51 am
……
In Flanders Fields always brings tears to my eyes as well. I’ve always found Remembrance Day tremendously solemn. It does us all good to remember the sacrifices made by others.
My Welsh grandfather served in both World Wars, but his injuries from the first (France) kept him on the home front in the second. An uncle who served in the Second World War survived, but the troubles he experienced then stayed with him for the rest of his life. As a merchant marine, he survived three ships sinking after being torpedoed, two in one day, but he never adjusted well to civilian life afterward. My mother-in-law’s brother was shot down over the English channel (he was a rear-gunner in a Lancaster Bomber) and was sorely grieved by his family.
So many lives sacrificed in one way or another… thank you to all veterans.
Richard S Courtney
November 11, 2010 2:32 pm
I live in Falmouth in Cornwall, UK. About 15 minute drive from my home is Trebah Gardens (a beautiful sub-tropical garden open to the public). The remains of a concrete road run down the side of Trebah Gardens to the remnant of a small harbour.
The road and the harbour were built to embark the US Second Infantry who were transported from there to Omaha Beach, Normandy, on D-Day. The horror those young men entered is unimaginable, and only two of every ten of them left Omaha Beach alive.
Each year a memorial event is held by the water at Trebah Gardens. Many British war veterans always attend, and a brief religious service is conducted when wreaths are laid by the memorial to those who left from there for Omaha Beach. Last year a survivor of those who left the harbour for Omaha Beach was in the UK so was invited to attend the event. The Display Team of the British Parachute Regiment dropped into the sea, came ashore and formed file for inspection by the American Veteran after which they presented him with a Memorial Baton. He seemed overwhelmed.
That day was also attended by an officer and ratings of the US Navy (they are at a nearby naval base) who carried their Colours and the officer laid a wreath. They told me that such events are rare in the US, and this saddened me.
Perhaps Americans do not have the immediacy of having families whose homes and relatives were destroyed by the world wars which were ‘far away’ and fought by heroes who travelled to those wars: I do not know.
But I am heartened to read the many comments on this thread by Americans who do recognise the great sacrifices of many people from many lands who gave so much that we can live in freedom.
Richard
T.C. says:
November 11, 2010 at 10:15 am
Just as an aside – I think this is photo of the Canadians landing at Juno Beach.
It is Omaha beach, 1st or 29th infantry division.
Tim
November 11, 2010 2:56 pm
My uncle told me about driving supplies in WWII. Yea that “safe” job. Drive at night (so you wouldn’t get bombed), without GPS, without night vision goggles, with your headlights off (so you wouldn’t get bombed), on winding, narrow European roads. Miss a turn or checkpoint and you are in the wrong place bigtime. Not pay attention and you are crashing without seatbelts or airbags. No such thing as a safe job in war. At least not for the enlisted men.
Will we ever learn from the wars we fight? Not just how to fight them better but how to solve things without the senseless waste of life all around? I hope so.
Cheers
George E. Smith
November 11, 2010 3:17 pm
Well I just got back from the Cupertino War Memorial where they now have an annual veteran’s day remembrance. The memorial was built to honor specifically a Cupertino hero lost in Afghanistan in 2005 in “Operation Redwings.” Matthew Axelson is his name; and he and his buddy are the figures in the beautiful bronze sculpture that is the centrepiece of the Memorial. The operation is the Story of the book “Lone Survivor.” Matthew was the last of the fallen to be recovered. Three were lost in his Navy Seal Team, and the 16 air force and army soldiers trying to rescue them all died, when their chopper was shot down. At today’s ceremony, was the air Force officer who headed the resuce unit that recovered Mattthew; and who recently contacted the family. He is still on active duty.
I’m old enough to remember when the US Navy plus a whole flock of Marines, and Army chaps at places like Guadalcanal, were all that stood between my A*** and the empire of the rising sun.
We can never repay you, those that served; nor the families that raised them; and I thank you for what you did, and what you do.
manfredkintop
November 11, 2010 3:21 pm
In Flanders Now ~ Edna Jaques
We have kept faith, ye Flanders’ dead,
Sleep well beneath those poppies red
That mark your place.
The torch your dying hands did throw,
We’ve held it high before the foe,
And answered bitter blow for blow,
In Flanders fields.
And where your heroes’ blood was spilled,
The guns are now forever stilled
And silent grown.
There is no moaning of the slain,
There is no cry of tortured pain,
And blood will never flow again,
In Flanders fields.
Forever holy in our sight
Shall be those crosses gleaming white,
That guard your sleep.
Rest you in peace, the task is done,
The fight you left us we have won,
And Peace on Earth has just begun,
In Flanders now.
Just as an aside – I think this is photo of the Canadians landing at Juno Beach.
or maybe not…
Thanks for the posting.
My how the times have changed (for the better).
When I served we were encouraged when traveling to do so in civilian garb to avoid the insults we might experience in uniform, during the 70s, when Viet Nam was so unpopular. Now troops can travel in their fatigues and be greeted as heroes, even if Iraq and Afganistan aren’t as ‘popular’ as they were early in the decade.
It is good to see.
Grandfather – WWII – Pacific – Artillery Battery
Great Uncle – WWII – Battle of the Bulge – KIA
Thank you.
[Moderator NOTE: Not the same Anthony as the blog owner]
Thank You Veteran’s ! GOD bless America.
Armistice Day, and most especially the Two Minutes Silence at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day, holds a very special place in the hearts of the British. In town and country alike, at the stroke of 11:00am people stop where they are and they remember the fallen; not just the British and Commonwealth dead but the dead of all nations.
Then this happens.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1328703/Remembrance-Day-Poppy-burning-Muslim-protesters-mar-Armistice-Day.html
RR Kampen:
It’s good that you have the freedom to express your opinion. I will use this day to honor the men and women who gave you that freedom.
“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends”
-John 15:13
Andrew
You’ll find the cost of freedom buried in the ground.
CSN&Y
Father — WWII — ETO — Bradley’s HQ
Uncle — WWII — PTO — AAF, KIA 1944
Uncle — WWII — PTO — Served on the (original) Fletcher (11 of 13 Battle stars)
Uncle — WWII — ETO — Infantry, Bronze Star
Uncle (by marriage) — WWII — ETO, CAF — 13 Victories (P-47).
Et al.
I thank all those who had the courage to serve, Be it WW 1, WW 2, Korea, Vietnam, the Gulf, or just the mundane sitting around waiting for all hell to break loose. I consider it an honor to buy a poppy from my local VFW post. My mother was a nurse in WW 2 that hit Normandy soon after we did. She followed along behind the front lines setting up field hospitals. Basically the MASH of the time. She had many stories of people of great courage, valor, and dedication. I will not play my relatives did more than yours in this post. I will just state that I have relatives that served in the Spanish American War (uncle by marriage), WW 1, and WW2. These people are the people who made America what it was. A nation that believed in freedom. I commend Truman for his desegregation of the armed forces. It was long overdue. It is sad that now we have in place a bunch of climate moonbats and people who are not in touch with the reality of a out of control 12er Shia’ nutcase running Iran. Hopefully the wheel will turn again.
Uncles — England, France, Belgium, Aleutian Isl., WWII
Grandfather — France, WWI
GG Grandfather — Missouri, Civil War on the Union Side. His brother was in the CSA.
GG Grandfather — Mexico, Mexican War
GGGG Grandfather — War of 1812
GGGGG (or thereabouts) Grandfather — French and Indian War, Revolutionary War
GGGGGG (or thereabouts) Grandfather — Scotland, Jacobite Revolt (Losing side)
Me — CDR USN (Ret.) and I keep the memories of old warriors alive by writing WWII novels.
A Government Department in Victoria, a State of Australia, refused to observe a minute’s silence, as they didn’t want to offend other cultures.
Shame.
The Greens want to close the Coral Sea to all forms of Fishing – everything – to honour our fallen Heroes, among other things. Is that what they died for?
For me? A day of reflection, and grateful thanks to my many relatives who fought, suffered (and a couple died) in Foreign Lands for Australia. But also a day that highlights the insidious risks to that hard won Freedom we now face.
Cheers,
Tim
It’s 11:00 a.m. on the 11th day of the 11th month on the US West Coast.
We paused in silent remembrance.
“Thank you” is just not enough.
My father notes in his log for 6th June 1944, “Patrolling rds behind invasion beachead.”[sic] It was his 69th operation.
2 hours 50 minutes at night in a Mosquito of No. 487 Sqn.
He said that as he flew over the beaches toward England in the dawn, he could see the whole invasion fleet laid out before him. He never forgot it. He also said that he just avoided a church steeple (he belatedly saw it silhouetted against the sky), which almost caused subsequent underwear laundry! When he landed he had some French hedge foliage snagged in the tail wheel. He must have been a bit low!
I salute him and the 48 young men out of the original 50 that he trained with who lost their lives, and of course all of the others from many nations that stood to for freedom from tyranny.
Further to the above, my mother’s brother was shot down and killed over Kiel.
My father-in-law who was badly wounded in North Africa, was born in New Zealand on 12 November 1918 (11th in Britain), and named what else but Victor.
“Lest we forget.”
For the lads in Afghanistan and for those who paid the ultimate sacrifice, so that we may live in freedom, God bless you all.
Since folks seem to be posting various family military history:
Me: USMC 1963-1983. Beyond that it goes back to 1632 – every war, police action or revolution that has involved what is now the USA, has involved members of my family since then and up to the present day. I’m saddened by that fact but recognize the necessity that some must die, that others may live. As it has been throughout history, so shall it be in the future.
I’m reminded of Patton’s poem.
THROUGH A GLASS, DARKLY
by Gen. George S. Patton, Jr.
Through the travail of the ages,
Midst the pomp and toil of war,
Have I fought and strove and perished
Countless times upon this star.
In the form of many people
In all panoplies of time
Have I seen the luring vision
Of the Victory Maid, sublime.
I have battled for fresh mammoth,
I have warred for pastures new,
I have listed to the whispers
When the race trek instinct grew.
I have known the call to battle
In each changeless changing shape
From the high souled voice of conscience
To the beastly lust for rape.
I have sinned and I have suffered,
Played the hero and the knave;
Fought for belly, shame, or country,
And for each have found a grave.
I cannot name my battles
For the visions are not clear,
Yet, I see the twisted faces
And I feel the rending spear.
Perhaps I stabbed our Savior
In His sacred helpless side.
Yet, I’ve called His name in blessing
When after times I died.
In the dimness of the shadows
Where we hairy heathens warred,
I can taste in thought the lifeblood;
We used teeth before the sword.
While in later clearer vision
I can sense the coppery sweat,
Feel the pikes grow wet and slippery
When our Phalanx, Cyrus met.
Hear the rattle of the harness
Where the Persian darts bounced clear,
See their chariots wheel in panic
From the Hoplite’s leveled spear.
See the goal grow monthly longer,
Reaching for the walls of Tyre.
Hear the crash of tons of granite,
Smell the quenchless eastern fire.
Still more clearly as a Roman,
Can I see the Legion close,
As our third rank moved in forward
And the short sword found our foes.
Once again I feel the anguish
Of that blistering treeless plain
When the Parthian showered death bolts,
And our discipline was in vain.
I remember all the suffering
Of those arrows in my neck.
Yet, I stabbed a grinning savage
As I died upon my back.
Once again I smell the heat sparks
When my Flemish plate gave way
And the lance ripped through my entrails
As on Crecy’s field I lay.
In the windless, blinding stillness
Of the glittering tropic sea
I can see the bubbles rising
Where we set the captives free.
Midst the spume of half a tempest
I have heard the bulwarks go
When the crashing, point blank round shot
Sent destruction to our foe.
I have fought with gun and cutlass
On the red and slippery deck
With all Hell aflame within me
And a rope around my neck.
And still later as a General
Have I galloped with Murat
When we laughed at death and numbers
Trusting in the Emperor’s Star.
Till at last our star faded,
And we shouted to our doom
Where the sunken road of Ohein
Closed us in it’s quivering gloom.
So but now with Tanks a’clatter
Have I waddled on the foe
Belching death at twenty paces,
By the star shell’s ghastly glow.
So as through a glass, and darkly
The age long strife I see
Where I fought in many guises,
Many names, but always me.
And I see not in my blindness
What the objects were I wrought,
But as God rules o’er our bickerings
It was through His will I fought.
So forever in the future,
Shall I battle as of yore,
Dying to be born a fighter,
But to die again, once more.
DesertYote says:
November 11, 2010 at 9:51 am
……
In Flanders Fields always brings tears to my eyes as well. I’ve always found Remembrance Day tremendously solemn. It does us all good to remember the sacrifices made by others.
My Welsh grandfather served in both World Wars, but his injuries from the first (France) kept him on the home front in the second. An uncle who served in the Second World War survived, but the troubles he experienced then stayed with him for the rest of his life. As a merchant marine, he survived three ships sinking after being torpedoed, two in one day, but he never adjusted well to civilian life afterward. My mother-in-law’s brother was shot down over the English channel (he was a rear-gunner in a Lancaster Bomber) and was sorely grieved by his family.
So many lives sacrificed in one way or another… thank you to all veterans.
I live in Falmouth in Cornwall, UK. About 15 minute drive from my home is Trebah Gardens (a beautiful sub-tropical garden open to the public). The remains of a concrete road run down the side of Trebah Gardens to the remnant of a small harbour.
The road and the harbour were built to embark the US Second Infantry who were transported from there to Omaha Beach, Normandy, on D-Day. The horror those young men entered is unimaginable, and only two of every ten of them left Omaha Beach alive.
Each year a memorial event is held by the water at Trebah Gardens. Many British war veterans always attend, and a brief religious service is conducted when wreaths are laid by the memorial to those who left from there for Omaha Beach. Last year a survivor of those who left the harbour for Omaha Beach was in the UK so was invited to attend the event. The Display Team of the British Parachute Regiment dropped into the sea, came ashore and formed file for inspection by the American Veteran after which they presented him with a Memorial Baton. He seemed overwhelmed.
That day was also attended by an officer and ratings of the US Navy (they are at a nearby naval base) who carried their Colours and the officer laid a wreath. They told me that such events are rare in the US, and this saddened me.
Perhaps Americans do not have the immediacy of having families whose homes and relatives were destroyed by the world wars which were ‘far away’ and fought by heroes who travelled to those wars: I do not know.
But I am heartened to read the many comments on this thread by Americans who do recognise the great sacrifices of many people from many lands who gave so much that we can live in freedom.
Richard
T.C. says:
November 11, 2010 at 10:15 am
Just as an aside – I think this is photo of the Canadians landing at Juno Beach.
It is Omaha beach, 1st or 29th infantry division.
My uncle told me about driving supplies in WWII. Yea that “safe” job. Drive at night (so you wouldn’t get bombed), without GPS, without night vision goggles, with your headlights off (so you wouldn’t get bombed), on winding, narrow European roads. Miss a turn or checkpoint and you are in the wrong place bigtime. Not pay attention and you are crashing without seatbelts or airbags. No such thing as a safe job in war. At least not for the enlisted men.
Will we ever learn from the wars we fight? Not just how to fight them better but how to solve things without the senseless waste of life all around? I hope so.
Cheers
Well I just got back from the Cupertino War Memorial where they now have an annual veteran’s day remembrance. The memorial was built to honor specifically a Cupertino hero lost in Afghanistan in 2005 in “Operation Redwings.” Matthew Axelson is his name; and he and his buddy are the figures in the beautiful bronze sculpture that is the centrepiece of the Memorial. The operation is the Story of the book “Lone Survivor.” Matthew was the last of the fallen to be recovered. Three were lost in his Navy Seal Team, and the 16 air force and army soldiers trying to rescue them all died, when their chopper was shot down. At today’s ceremony, was the air Force officer who headed the resuce unit that recovered Mattthew; and who recently contacted the family. He is still on active duty.
I’m old enough to remember when the US Navy plus a whole flock of Marines, and Army chaps at places like Guadalcanal, were all that stood between my A*** and the empire of the rising sun.
We can never repay you, those that served; nor the families that raised them; and I thank you for what you did, and what you do.
In Flanders Now ~ Edna Jaques
We have kept faith, ye Flanders’ dead,
Sleep well beneath those poppies red
That mark your place.
The torch your dying hands did throw,
We’ve held it high before the foe,
And answered bitter blow for blow,
In Flanders fields.
And where your heroes’ blood was spilled,
The guns are now forever stilled
And silent grown.
There is no moaning of the slain,
There is no cry of tortured pain,
And blood will never flow again,
In Flanders fields.
Forever holy in our sight
Shall be those crosses gleaming white,
That guard your sleep.
Rest you in peace, the task is done,
The fight you left us we have won,
And Peace on Earth has just begun,
In Flanders now.
I usually post Flander’s Fields on Nov 11, but I see a few have beaten me to it. Instead, I’ll offer this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XuQqxbGNT58