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Veteran's Day
Veteran's Day is the anniversary of the signing of the armistice which ended World War I in 1918. This day is also known as Armistice Day in Europe and Remembrance Day in Canada. It is celebrated on November 11th.
In
Flanders Fields
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.
by John McCrae
John McCrae was a Canadian physician who fought on the Western Front in 1914, but was then transferred to the medical corps and assigned to a hospital in France. He died of pneumonia while on active duty in 1918. His poem, In Flanders Fields is probably the best known poem from WW I.
Please Wear a Poppy
"Please
wear a poppy," the lady said
And held one forth, but I shook my head.
Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,
And her face was old
and lined with care;
But beneath the scars the years had made
There remained
a smile that refused to fade.
A
boy came whistling down the street,
Bouncing along on care-free feet.
His smile was full of joy and fun,
"Lady," said he, "May I
have one?"
When she's pinned it on he turned to say,
"Why do
we wear a poppy today?"
The
lady smiled in her wistful way
And answered, "This is Remembrance Day,
And the poppy there--is the symbol for
The gallant men who died in war.
And because they did, you and I are free -
That's why we wear a poppy, you
see."
"I
had a boy about your size,
With golden hair and big blue eyes.
He loved
to play and jump and shout,
Free as a bird he would race about.
As the
years went by he learned and grew
and became a man - as you will, too."
"He
was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,
But he'd seemed with us such a little
while
When war broke out and he went away.
I still remember his face that
day
When he smiled at me and said, "Goodbye,
I'll be back soon, Mom,
so please don't cry."
"But
the war went on and he had to stay,
And all I could do was wait and pray.
His letters told of the awful fight,
(I can see it still in my dreams at night),
With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire,
And the mines and bullets,
the bombs and fire."
"Till
at last, at last, the war was won.
And that's why we wear a poppy son."
The small boy turned as if to go,
Then said, "Thanks, lady, I'm glad
to know.
That sure did sound like an awful fight,
But your son - did he
come back all right?"
A
tear rolled down each faded check;
She shook her head, but didn't speak.
I slunk away in a sort of shame,
And if you were me you'd have done the same;
For our thanks, in giving, if oft delayed,
Thought our freedom was bought
- and thousands paid!
And
so when we see a poppy worn,
Let us reflect on the burden borne,
By those
who gave their very all
When asked to answer their country's call
That
we at home in peace might live.
Then wear a poppy! Remember - and give!
by Don Crawford
Home | © 1997-2008 Carolyn Gundrum, teacher-author
