In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

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

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.

Dedicated with love to the memory of:

  • My Dad Louis, who drove Canadian Army trucks through Italy and the Netherlands in WW II;
  • My courageous Uncle Moe, who lost both feet when his tank was shot out from under him during the liberation of Europe, but who never let his disability become disabling;
  • My Uncle Joe, who also served in the Canadian Army in WW II; and
  • My Great Uncle Reuben – too young for the Great War and too old for WWII – who enlisted and served in both World Wars.
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