*NOTE* Even though you may not be from the US of A, please take the time to remember the fallen service members of your country as well. Oh, and Mods I wrote this all my own (excluding the Poem).
Today, as you should be aware of, is Memorial Day. Since 1775, more than 1 Million American Service members have fallen in the service of our country. Let us move past our political differences today and remember those that we are the land of the free, because of the brave. Please take this into consideration.
"In Flanders Field" by LtCol John McCrae, MD
(1872-1918)
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.
The areas of Northern France known as Flanders and Picardy, saw some of the most concentrated and bloodiest fighting of the First World War. There was complete devastation. Buildings, roads, trees, and natural life simply disappeared. Where once there were homes and farms, there was now a sea of mud - a grave for the dead where men still lived and fought. Only one other thing survived. The poppy, flowering each year with the coming of warm weather, brought life, hope, color, and reassurance to those still fighting.
Today, as you should be aware of, is Memorial Day. Since 1775, more than 1 Million American Service members have fallen in the service of our country. Let us move past our political differences today and remember those that we are the land of the free, because of the brave. Please take this into consideration.
"In Flanders Field" by LtCol John McCrae, MD
(1872-1918)
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.
The areas of Northern France known as Flanders and Picardy, saw some of the most concentrated and bloodiest fighting of the First World War. There was complete devastation. Buildings, roads, trees, and natural life simply disappeared. Where once there were homes and farms, there was now a sea of mud - a grave for the dead where men still lived and fought. Only one other thing survived. The poppy, flowering each year with the coming of warm weather, brought life, hope, color, and reassurance to those still fighting.
Last edited by Major.League.Infidel (2007-05-28 15:10:26)