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In Flanders Fields
Don McManus
Member Posts: 23,672 ✭✭✭✭
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.
Written May 2nd 1915, the second battle of Ypres
This weekend, let us take a moment to re-commit to not
break faith with those who have made the ultimate sacrifice.
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.
Written May 2nd 1915, the second battle of Ypres
This weekend, let us take a moment to re-commit to not
break faith with those who have made the ultimate sacrifice.
Freedom and a submissive populace cannot co-exist.
Brad Steele
Brad Steele
Comments
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The lark, 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 up high.
If ye break faith with us who die,
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields.
Brad Steele
Doug
Likewise.
I have been re-reading Winston Groom's 'A Storm in Flanders', and
came to the conclusion that there is no more poignant poem for
Memorial Day than this.
Brad Steele
There have been several "Reply to Flander's Fields" poems written, but I think this my favorite.
Reply to In Flanders Field
John Mitchell
Oh! sleep in peace where poppies grow;
The torch your falling hands let go
Was caught by us, again held high,
A beacon light in Flanders sky
That dims the stars to those below.
You are our dead, you held the foe,
And ere the poppies cease to blow,
We'll prove our faith in you who lie
In Flanders Fields.
Oh! rest in peace, we quickly go
To you who bravely died, and know
In other fields was heard the cry,
For freedom's cause, of you who lie,
So still asleep where poppies grow,
In Flanders Fields.
As in rumbling sound, to and fro,
The lightning flashes, sky aglow,
The mighty hosts appear, and high
Above the din of battle cry,
Scarce heard amidst the guns below,
Are fearless hearts who fight the foe,
And guard the place where poppies grow.
Oh! sleep in peace, all you who lie
In Flanders Fields.
And still the poppies gently blow,
Between the crosses, row on row.
The larks, still bravely soaring high,
Are singing now their lullaby
To you who sleep where poppies grow
In Flanders Fields.
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.
a brave CANADIAN!!!
http://guelph.ca/museum/mccrae/story_of_john_mccrae.htm
That poem was written by John McRae
a brave CANADIAN!!!
http://guelph.ca/museum/mccrae/story_of_john_mccrae.htm
It is also commemorated on our $10.00 bill.
A somber and meaningful Veterans' Day to all who served.
Don
btt again.
Brad Steele
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
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.
Written May 2nd 1915, the second battle of Ypres
This weekend, let us take a moment to re-commit to not
break faith with those who have made the ultimate sacrifice.
Amen.
And fiery auto crashes
Some will die in hot pursuit
While sifting through my ashes
Some will fall in love with life
And drink it from a fountain
That is pouring like an avalanche
Coming down the mountain
quote:Originally posted by Colt Super
That has almost always brought me to the brink of tears.
Doug
Nice to Hear From You Doug[:D]
quote:Originally posted by Colt Super
That has almost always brought me to the brink of tears.
Doug
Woodshed... Doug's post was in late May of 2007...
I don't think he's been around the forums for quite a while now...
Sure would like to hear from him... Just to know he's OK.
Mustard gas and maybe chlorine. He did live to be 70+. His older brothers were farmers and were exempt.
Nice to Hear From You Doug[:D]
quote:Originally posted by Colt Super
That has almost always brought me to the brink of tears.
Doug
Poor old wine soaked guy had no one to talk to except for a little kid.
And fiery auto crashes
Some will die in hot pursuit
While sifting through my ashes
Some will fall in love with life
And drink it from a fountain
That is pouring like an avalanche
Coming down the mountain
Old times there are not forgotten,
Look away, look away, look away to Dixie Land
Shot At Dawn
Know the line has held, your job is done.
Rest easy, sleep well, others have taken up where you fell.
The line has held.
Peace, peace and farewell.
Sorry, don't know who wrote it.
Someday, perhaps we will learn.
Brad Steele
My our reflections upon this day be meaningful.
http://forums.GunBroker.com/topic.asp?TOPIC_ID=559813
Brad Steele
Such a sad song, and the Irish have paid such a terrible price in war...especially the War of Northern Aggression....
My best wishes to all Veterans.
Brad Steele
Nobody cared, when he went to war,
But the woman that cried on his shoulder;
Nobody decked him with immortelles;
He was only a common soldier.
Nobody packed in a dainty trunk
Folded raiment and officer's fair;
A knapsack held all the new recruit
Might own, or love, or eat, or wear.
Nobody gave him a good-by fete,
With sparkling jest and flower crowned wine:
Two or three friends on the sidewalk stood
Watching for Jones, the fourth in line.
Nobody cared how the battle went,
With the man that fought till the bullet sped
Through the coat undecked with leaf or star
On a common soldier left for dead.
The cool rain bathed the fevered wound,
And the kind clouds wept the live long night;
A pitying lotion Nature gave,
Till help might come with morning light -
Such help as the knife of the surgeon gives,
Cleaving the gallant arm from shoulder;
And another name swells the pension list
For the meager pay of a common soldier.
What matter how he served the guns
When plume and sash were over yonder?
What matter though he bear the flag
Through blinding smoke and battle thunder.
What matters though a wife and child
Cry softly for that good arm rent?
And wonder why that random shot
To him, their own, beloved, was sent?
O patriotic hearts, wipe out this stain;
Give jeweled cup and sword and no more;
But let no common soldier blush
To own the loyal wardrobe he wore.
Shout long and loud for victory won
By chief and leader stanch and true;
But don't forget the boys that fought -
Shout for the common soldier too !
And fiery auto crashes
Some will die in hot pursuit
While sifting through my ashes
Some will fall in love with life
And drink it from a fountain
That is pouring like an avalanche
Coming down the mountain
Please take a moment to reflect upon those that gave of themselves so that we can chose to take that moment or not.
Thanks guys. You remain in our hearts.
Don
Brad Steele
Tomorrow we will gather at Willamette National Cemetery and place flowers for the vets we take care of, the four Medal of Honor recipients resting there, and two of our members who have passed.
One of our members left us last February, and asked that 'In Flanders Field' be read when we came to visit.
I will try to make it through without losing it, but it will be difficult.
by A. Lawrence Vaincourt
He was getting old and paunchy and his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the Legion, telling stories of the past.
Of a war that he had fought in and the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies; they were heroes, every one.
And tho' sometimes, to his neighbors, his tales became a joke,
All his Legion buddies listened, for they knew whereof he spoke.
But we'll hear his tales no longer for old Bill has passed away,
And the world's a little poorer, for a soldier died today.
He will not be mourned by many, just his children and his wife,
For he lived an ordinary and quite uneventful life.
Held a job and raised a family, quietly going his own way,
And the world won't note his passing, though a soldier died today.
When politicians leave this earth, their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing and proclaim that they were great.
Papers tell their whole life stories, from the time that they were young,
But the passing of a soldier goes unnoticed and unsung.
Is the greatest contribution to the welfare of our land
A guy who breaks his promises and cons his fellow man?
Or the ordinary fellow who, in times of war and strife,
Goes off to serve his Country and offers up his life?
A politician's stipend and the style in which he lives
Are sometimes disproportionate to the service that he gives.
While the ordinary soldier, who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal and perhaps, a pension small.
It's so easy to forget them for it was so long ago,
That the old Bills of our Country went to battle, but we know
It was not the politicians, with their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom that our Country now enjoys.
Should you find yourself in danger, with your enemies at hand,
Would you want a politician with his ever-shifting stand?
Or would you prefer a soldier, who has sworn to defend
His home, his kin and Country and would fight until the end?
He was just a common soldier and his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us we may need his like again.
For when countries are in conflict, then we find the soldier's part
Is to clean up all the troubles that the politicians start.
If we cannot do him honor while he's here to hear the praise,
Then at least let's give him homage at the ending of his days.
Perhaps just a simple headline in a paper that would say,
Our Country is in mourning, for a soldier died today.
c 1987 A. Lawrence Vaincourt
To hear it read by Tony Lo Bianco with music and photos, click here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tp8z2yJWcEA