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In Flanders Fields

By 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.



On this and every Memorial Day I give thanks to all of those who served that gave the ultimate sacrifice in order to defend our freedoms. They did not choose the fight, but chose to fight for our nation. Risking it all and paying the the highest price one could pay, their life. They came from all across our nation. From major cities to open farm lands. The only color they saw in the trenches were the color of their uniforms. There are no atheists in a fox hole. When the bullets start flying everyone begins to pray. Without their sacrifice we wouldn't enjoy the freedoms we all have today or the right to fight for the freedoms some are still striving for. Please take time out on this Memorial Day to thank and honor the fallen. We owe everything to them.

Tomorrow, as I have done for many years, I will pick up some flowers and head to the National Cemetery in town. We will just walk around, looking for a stone that looks like it has been long unattended. As I tell my wife, I will know when the stone talks to me. I more or less look for a Korean or Vietnam era, young, like a person who came home through Dover. A stone that looks like it hasn't been visited in some time. Not that nobody cared, but people remarried, moved, died.

We just leave the flowers, talk, think, wonder who this person was, what they did.

When I get home I try to find out any information about the person, usually with no luck. Sometimes I find little bits.

My wife and I give thanks for those who served, sacrificed, and especially those who died. Their choice remains our strength. Not victims, but heroes. My wife id going to decorate graves with our beautiful peonies and iris this morning; this has been an annual observance almost our whole marriage. Our thanks for those brave enough to choose service and brave sacrifice to preserve our freedoms. Honor them.