Remembrance Day
Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2012 1:51 am
Tomorrow we observe (not celebrate) Remembrance Day, as we call it in Canada. Most of you reading are, I would guess, in the U.S.A., and observe Veteran's Day. So, we do the same things to honor vets, and serving men and women.
In church, I will sing a musical setting of 'Flanders' Fields', a poem written by a Canadian officer in WWI, who was himself killed in that war. He noticed the poppies in the fields; Poppies will only normally grow in disturbed soil, and shell-wracked countryside is almost perfect for that purpose. Here is the poem, for those who may not hear it often:
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.
Canadians generally don't make too much of our heroes, but we think enough of those who have made the ultimate sacrifice to put this poem on our money. When dead soldiers come home from Afghanistan, they are driven from Ottawa to Toronto. Ordinary (EXTRA-ordinary) citizens have taken to lining Highway 401 and receiving them home with honours. It is now 'officially' called 'Highway of Heroes', and many areas of the country are picking up on this theme.
As one of our members here has on his tagline, 'True soldiers fight not because they hate what is in front of them, but because they love what is behind them'.
Hip-hip-hooray for all our vets, and 2 minutes of silence at 11:00am tomorrow, for those who are gone on.
a grateful Canadian.
In church, I will sing a musical setting of 'Flanders' Fields', a poem written by a Canadian officer in WWI, who was himself killed in that war. He noticed the poppies in the fields; Poppies will only normally grow in disturbed soil, and shell-wracked countryside is almost perfect for that purpose. Here is the poem, for those who may not hear it often:
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.
Canadians generally don't make too much of our heroes, but we think enough of those who have made the ultimate sacrifice to put this poem on our money. When dead soldiers come home from Afghanistan, they are driven from Ottawa to Toronto. Ordinary (EXTRA-ordinary) citizens have taken to lining Highway 401 and receiving them home with honours. It is now 'officially' called 'Highway of Heroes', and many areas of the country are picking up on this theme.
As one of our members here has on his tagline, 'True soldiers fight not because they hate what is in front of them, but because they love what is behind them'.
Hip-hip-hooray for all our vets, and 2 minutes of silence at 11:00am tomorrow, for those who are gone on.
a grateful Canadian.