Remember
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.—Lt. Col. John McCrae, 1872-1918
The peace we now esteem so lightly was bought dearly by many millions who felt that it was important enough to fight for. Though they were terrified, they fought on, because to not do so would have been an insult to their families, their children, for whose future they were prepared to sacrifice themselves.
We owe them a greater debt than we can ever hope to repay; at the least we can remember what they did for us, and pray that such sacrifices will never need to be made again.
