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.
This poem "In Flanders Field" is a poem written by Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae in a cemetery in the Flanders region of Belgium on May 3, 1915, the day after the death of his young friend, Lieutenant Alexis Helmer.
This is probably the most famous poem written during World War I and the poppies they immortalize, have come to symbolize the fallen soldiers of WWI.
I salute you comrades. To all of us that have worn the uniform or still wear the uniform and especially those who have laid their lives upon the alter of war, my most humble thank you.
The painting of Flanders Field is by Willy Werner
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