Wait, don't skip over this! I know you know this poem, but take the time to read it again. One of my favourites since I first learned it as a young boy at school, take a moment to remember the sacrifice...
In Flanders Fields By Major John McCrae
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.
Visit the following link for some background information on the man, the meaning, and the circumstances behind this poem - http://www.greatwar.nl/
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