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.
================================
If you see one of these stands out today at your local shop, be sure to buy a poppy pin.
My sincerest thank you and appreciation to all who fought for our freedom. We cannot begin to repay you for what you have done for us all.
As the years go by this day becomes more and more important, a sad note, a documentary today shows that even though the armistice had been signed early in the morning with the cease fire to take place at 11am, at least another 10,000 died, General Pershing wanted to continue the war all the way to Berlin, he said until they know they are really beaten this will come back to haunt us!!!! The Americans kept up the attack until 11am . The last killed on the allies side was a Canadian on a bridge talking to some civilians, he was shot at around 10.59am.
Yes, it has been said countless times, freedom is never free. Disabled American Veterans especially, have always been supported around here.
“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.” -John Fitzgerald Kennedy
In a previous comment I said I remembered when our guys came back from Viet Nam they were called “baby killers”. That should not have happened but it doesn’t happen any more. I’m glad. Vets deserve our thanks. Here’s mine.
Thank you.
I was in tears this morning at our Remembrance Day service. I was thinking of all those who died for our freedom and how this has been abused; (by the EU, Climate Scams, etc.).
My thanks to all those who continue the fight for truth and freedom.
“I know not why they fought quoth he
But ’twas a mighty victory!”
Intersting little tidbit from the CBC, the amount of young people who are going to their local centotaph for ceremonies today, has been rising steadily for the last few years. This in a country that has a very small armed force. There still is hope for the future!
Let us never forget!
http://m.youtube.com/#/watch?v=ckfXr1EHO9U&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DckfXr1EHO9U
I went into a public-‘ouse to get a pint o’ beer,
The publican ‘e up an’ sez, “We serve no red-coats here.”
The girls be’ind the bar they laughed an’ giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an’ to myself sez I:
O it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, go away”;
But it’s “Thank you, Mister Atkins”, when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it’s “Thank you, Mister Atkins”, when the band begins to play.
I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but ‘adn’t none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-‘alls,
But when it comes to fightin’, Lord! they’ll shove me in the stalls!
For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, wait outside”;
But it’s “Special train for Atkins” when the trooper’s on the tide,
The troopship’s on the tide, my boys, the troopship’s on the tide,
O it’s “Special train for Atkins” when the trooper’s on the tide.
Yes, makin’ mock o’ uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an’ they’re starvation cheap;
An’ hustlin’ drunken soldiers when they’re goin’ large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin’ in full kit.
Then it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, ‘ow’s yer soul?”
But it’s “Thin red line of ‘eroes” when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it’s “Thin red line of ‘eroes” when the drums begin to roll.
We aren’t no thin red ‘eroes, nor we aren’t no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An’ if sometimes our conduck isn’t all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don’t grow into plaster saints;
While it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, fall be’ind”,
But it’s “Please to walk in front, sir”, when there’s trouble in the wind,
There’s trouble in the wind, my boys, there’s trouble in the wind,
O it’s “Please to walk in front, sir”, when there’s trouble in the wind.
You talk o’ better food for us, an’ schools, an’ fires, an’ all:
We’ll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don’t mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow’s Uniform is not the soldier-man’s disgrace.
For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Chuck him out, the brute!”
But it’s “Saviour of ‘is country” when the guns begin to shoot;
An’ it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ anything you please;
An’ Tommy ain’t a bloomin’ fool — you bet that Tommy sees!
~ Rudyard Kipling
Thanks for posting this, Anthony. As we say in Britain, “At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them.”
They shall grow not 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), extract from “For the Fallen”
So many things that Churchill said are quotable, but this one was used at the death of an old friend, a Vet(eran):
This is what you should be quoting:
Anthem For Doomed Youth
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles’ rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
The pallor of girls’ brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
Wilfred Owen
Or, for the aftermath, this:
http://www.aftermathww1.com/scannell.asp
Kipling? A wretch, fake through and through. The death of his own son, last seen blind, weeping, face torn by shell, wandering in no mans land. Never should have been in the army, let alone an officer.
Two hundred thirty years ago, a man awoke one morn
To hear a newborn baby’s cry: a nation being born
That call was answered speedily, by many thousand men
To guard a new-found freedom where just colonies had been
The battles raged for many years, and seemed yet never done
New threats arose from time to time; there’s now another one
But staunch defenders did their job, faced combat and disease
And hardships, cold, and toil — we grew stronger by degrees
More battles we would have to fight, more battles did we win
Then came the saddest time; we had to turn our force within
Abe Lincoln lead the nation, and with slavery we dispensed
And slowly healed and grew as the new century commenced
But then the call went out once more, as Europe blazed with war
America was ready — we knew what we’re fighting for
The time of the Depression, it was said, would sap our will
But when our troops were needed, they were strong and able still
We kept the fight, and kept the light, as misery ran deep
And several hundred thousand paid for what we strove to keep
Once Europe’s plague was vanquished, we though then we might relax
But soon the Asian fields were host to Communist attacks
And now jihadists threats, which had been rising up for years
Set sights to end our liberty, the bastion of their fears
The soldiers once again have shown they’re ready for the call
And ready once again, to do their jobs and give their all
And once again we’ll owe, as we have since we’d first begun
Our thanks and praise to veterans — our freedom’s what they’ve won.
===|==============/ Keith DeHavelle
michel says:
“The death of his own son, last seen blind, weeping, face torn by shell, wandering in no mans land. Never should have been in the army, let alone an officer.”
He served. Did you?
Rearmament
These grand and fatal movements toward death: the grandeur of the mass
Makes pity a fool, the tearing pity
For the atoms of the mass, the persons, the victims, makes it seem monstrous
To admire the tragic beauty they build.
It is beautiful as a river flowing or a slowly gathering
Glacier on a high mountain rock-face,
Bound to plow down a forest, or as frost in November,
The gold and flaming death-dance for leaves,
Or a girl in the night of her spent maidenhood, bleeding and kissing.
I would burn my right hand in a slow fire
To change the future … I should do foolishly. The beauty of modern
Man is not in the persons but in the
Disastrous rhythm, the heavy and mobile masses, the dance of the
Dream-led masses down the dark mountain.
Robinson Jeffers, 1935
The tragedy is that piece by piece the politariat are taking that hard won freedom away and there is nothing we can except to fight again.
For those of you “historical revisionists” who want to WHINE about “us” or “them” causing this or that, I highly recommend “Grant’s Memoirs”. This because Ullyses S. Grant was NO SUPPORTER of the 1848 “Spanish/American/Mexican” war, which he regarded as an “imperialistic action” on the part of the young USA. It is interesting to note his TRANSFORMATION as he found out what the REAL IMPERIALISTIC/WAR LIKE culture of the SPANISH was in comparison to the egalitarian and “formed by laws, not by men”…nature of the U.S.A.
By the time he left Mexico, Grant has an ABIDING RESPECT for our Constitution, our treatment of humans, WHETHER they were “on our side” or “on the other side”.
It behooves us now to STUDY the writings and “growth” of this great man, forged in STEEL and documented (as he was dying of tounge cancer) on paper. (And for us to realize that ALAS, some times to rectify wrongs, and to advance the cause of “formed by laws and not by men”, WAR is the answer.)
We who are left, how shall we look again
Happily on the sun or feel the rain
Without remembering how they who went
Ungrudgingly and spent
Their lives for us loved, too, the sun and rain?
A bird among the rain-wet lilac sings –
But we, how shall we turn to little things
And listen to the birds and winds and streams
Made holy by their dreams,
Nor feel the heart-break in the heart of things?
There once was a time when real conservatives knew that there was nothing less conservative than war.
These same people realized that WWI destroyed western civilization and, like so many other wars, was justified on a tissue of lies.
The next time that one of denizens of the US or UK bemoan the fate of their culture and country during the last 100 years or so, it would be well for them to remember that a century of unrelenting war is the direct cause of that destruction.
The first line is incorrect.
It is inconceivable that McCrae would have used a violent word such as ‘blow’ in the context of the trenches and with the sentiment of the poem. The link below:
(a) perpetuates the incorrect usage of ‘blow’ for ‘grow’
(b) provides a signed copy of the poem in which the word ‘grow’ is quite clear.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_Flanders_Fields
One of the very moving experiences of my life was seeing poppies growing in Flanders fields – even though the farmer in me noted that they were weeds in modern wheat fields.
BTW, people need to be careful when they use the word fighting for ‘freedom’ in the context of world war one and world war two. World War One ensured the survival of very unfree colonial empires.
Our biggest ally by far in World War Two was a despotic, genocidal dictatorship run by a chap called Stalin. The Chinese, who may well have killed more Japanese in World War Two than the West did, were also run by a combination of two unfree entitities: a communist army and a military dictatorship. Our other allies in the Pacific were running undemocratic empires ruled by armed might: England, France and Holland. OTOH, the Philippines were on the cusp of moving from being a US colony to a free nation…even if not quite there by the start of World War Two.
There were no ‘freedoms’ there.
Thank you, Anthony.
President Abraham Lincoln
Second Inaugural Address
Saturday, March 4, 1865
Mt Watts, every November, you will remind us.
Wilfred Owen!