On the wall in a quiet hallway in the Officers' Mess at CFB Shilo, hangs a simple wooden frame holding one of the most iconic pieces of poetry ever written by a Canadian ...The words are familiar, their message timeless ...
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
Today we pause, or we should pause to REMEMBER ... places with strange names where Canadian boys who fell in battle lie in the cold ground ... if we don't remember - who will??
1 comment:
I like the picture.bex
Post a Comment