Lest We Forget

[Ann]

November 11th is Remembrance Day and I just want to say "thank you" to all those who fought for the freedom we enjoy today. The sacrifices they made will never be forgotten.

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 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.

McCrae's "In Flanders Fields" remains to this day one of the most memorable war poems ever written. It is a lasting legacy of the terrible battle in the Ypres salient in the spring of 1915. Here is the story of the making of that poem:

Although he had been a doctor for years and had served in the South African War, it was impossible to get used to the suffering, the screams, and the blood here, and Major John McCrae had seen and heard enough in his dressing station to last him a lifetime.

As a surgeon attached to the 1st Field Artillery Brigade, Major McCrae, who had joined the McGill faculty in 1900 after graduating from the University of Toronto, had spent seventeen days treating injured men -- Canadians, British, Indians, French, and Germans -- in the Ypres salient.

It had been an ordeal that he had hardly thought possible. McCrae later wrote of it:

"I wish I could embody on paper some of the varied sensations of that seventeen days... Seventeen days of Hades! At the end of the first day if anyone had told us we had to spend seventeen days there, we would have folded our hands and said it could not have been done."

One death particularly affected McCrae. A young friend and former student, Lieut. Alexis Helmer of Ottawa, had been killed by a shell burst on 2 May 1915. Lieutenant Helmer was buried later that day in the little cemetery outside McCrae's dressing station, and McCrae had performed the funeral ceremony in the absence of the chaplain.

The next day, sitting on the back of an ambulance parked near the dressing station beside the Canal de l'Yser, just a few hundred yards north of Ypres, McCrae vented his anguish by composing a poem. The major was no stranger to writing, having authored several medical texts besides dabbling in poetry.

In the nearby cemetery, McCrae could see the wild poppies that sprang up in the ditches in that part of Europe, and he spent twenty minutes of precious rest time scribbling fifteen lines of verse in a notebook.

A young soldier watched him write it. Cyril Allinson, a twenty-two year old sergeant-major, was delivering mail that day when he spotted McCrae. The major looked up as Allinson approached, then went on writing while the sergeant-major stood there quietly. "His face was very tired but calm as we wrote," Allinson recalled. "He looked around from time to time, his eyes straying to Helmer's grave."

When McCrae finished five minutes later, he took his mail from Allinson and, without saying a word, handed his pad to the young NCO. Allinson was moved by what he read:

"The poem was exactly an exact description of the scene in front of us both. He used the word blow in that line because the poppies actually were being blown that morning by a gentle east wind. It never occurred to me at that time that it would ever be published. It seemed to me just an exact description of the scene."

In fact, it was very nearly not published. Dissatisfied with it, McCrae tossed the poem away, but a fellow officer retrieved it and sent it to newspapers in England. The Spectator, in London, rejected it, but Punch published it on 8 December 1915.

[j'ade d'arcy]

Thank you for posting this Ann.

November 11th always has a place in my heart and mind.

I will be taking the time to remember my grandfather and all the many other men and women who gave of themselves.

[In memory of miracle]

O God of Mercy, we beg You now to protect in a special way those who are fighting for us and for the country we love. Bless them and take care of them. If they are tired, give them strength. If they are wounded and suffering, give them comfort. If they are lonely, touch them with Your gentle hand and let them know that You are near them. Grant them strength, wisdom and help through Your power and Your limitless love. Amen.

[cwohio]

thank you ann & miracle - this year it had special meaning - i'll be remembering my husband who fought for his country and our freedom!

[CAPTAINZING2000]

THE BOYS OF IWO JIMA

Each year I travel to Washington D.C. with the eighth grade class,
from Clinton, Wisconsin, where I grew up, to videotape their trip.
I greatly enjoy visiting our nation's capitol, and each year I take
some special memories back with me. This fall's trip was especially
memorable.
On the last night of our trip, we stopped at the Iwo Jima Memorial.
This memorial is the largest bronze statue in the world and depicts one of
the most famous photographs in history -- that of the six brave soldiers
raising the American Flag at the top of a rocky hill on the Island of Iwo
Jima, Japan during WW II.
We piled off the buses and headed towards the memorial, where I
noticed a solitary figure at the base of the statue. As I approached him,
he asked, "Where are you guys from?" I told him that we were from
Wisconsin. "Hey, I'm a Cheesehead too! Come gather around Cheeseheads,
and I will tell you a story."
His name is James Bradley and he just happened to be in Washington
D.C. to speak at the memorial the following day. He was there that evening
to say goodnight to his dad, who had passed away. I videotaped him as he
spoke to us, and received his permission to share what he said from my
videotape.
Touring the incredible monuments in Washington, DC, is spectacular,
but it can't compare to the insight we received that night. When we had
gathered around him, he reverently began to speak...
"My name is James Bradley and I'm from Antigo, Wisconsin. My dad is
on that statue, and I just wrote a book called "Flags of Our Father's"
which is #5 on the New York Times Bestseller list right now. It is the
story of the six boys you see behind me. The six boys who raised the flag.
"The first guy putting the pole in the ground is Harlon Block. Harlon
was an all-state football player. He enlisted in the Marine Corps with all
the senior members of his football team. They were off to play another
type of game. A game called "War." But it didn't turn out to be a game.
Harlon, at the age of 21, died horribly. I say that because there are
generals who stand in front of this statue and talk about the glory of war.
You guys need to know that most of the boys in Iwo Jima were 17, 18, and
19 years old.
"You see this next guy? That's Rene Gagnon from New Hampshire. If you
took Rene's helmet off at the moment this photo was taken, and looked in
the webbing of that helmet, you would find a photograph. A photograph of
his girlfriend. Rene put that in there for protection, because he was
scared. He was 18 years old. Boys won the battle of Iwo Jima. Boys. Not
old men. The next guy here, the third guy in this tableau, was Sergeant
Mike Strank. Mike is my hero. He was the hero of all these guys. They
called him the "old man" because he was so old. He was already 24. When
Mike would motivate his boys in training camp, he didn't say, "Let's die
for our country." He knew he was talking to little boys. Instead, he
would say, "You do what I say, and I'll get you home to your mothers."
"The last guy on this side of the statue is Ira Hayes, a Pema Indian
from Arizona. Ira Hayes walked off Iwo Jima. He went into the White House
with my dad. President Truman told him, "You're a hero." He told
reporters, "How can I feel like a hero when 250 of my buddies hit the
island with me and only 27 of us walked off alive?
"The next guy, going around the statue is Franklin Sousley from
Hilltop, Kentucky. A fun-lovin' hillbilly boy. Franklin died on Iwo Jima
at the age of 19. When the telegram came to tell his mother that he was
dead, it went to the Hilltop General Store. A barefoot boy ran that
telegram up to his mother's farm. The neighbors could hear her scream all
night and into the morning. The neighbors lived a quarter of a mile away.
"The next guy, as we continue to go around the statue is my dad, John
Bradley from Antigo, Wisconsin, where I was raised. My dad lived until
1994, but he would never give interviews. You see, my dad didn't see
himself as a hero. Everyone thinks these guys are heroes, 'cause they are
in a photo and a monument. My dad knew better. He was a medic. John
Bradley from Wisconsin was a caregiver. In Iwo Jima he probably held over
200 boys as they died. And when boys died in Iwo Jima, they writhed and
screamed in pain.
"When I was a little boy, my third grade teacher told me that my dad
was a hero. When I went home and told my dad that, he looked at me and
said, "I want you always to remember that the heroes of Iwo Jima are the
guys who did not come back -- did NOT come back."
"So that's the story about six nice young boys. Three died on Iwo
Jima, and three came back as national heroes. Overall, 7000 boys died on
Iwo Jima in the worst battle in the history of the Marine Corps. My voice
is giving out, so I will end here. Thank you for your time."
Suddenly the monument wasn't just a big old piece of metal with a flag
sticking out of the top. It came to life before our eyes with the
heartfelt words of a son who did indeed have a father who was a hero.
Maybe not a hero for the reasons most people would believe, but a hero
nonetheless.

Michael T. Powers

[hopealwayz]

Thank you for posting this!

[CAPTAINZING2000]

Ann,


Glad You Started This Thread

[stormyautumn]

In remembrance...

[best]

Thursday was the US Marine Corps birthday.
Friday being Veteran's day, you can be sure the flags will be out at my house.

Most gave some and some gave all.

Let us remember them all in our prayers and the families of all our troops as well.
if you see a need and you can fill it... do it for our troops.

[historyteach]

A heartfelt thanks sent to all who've served...
...from a grateful beneficiary.

Shalom!

[Ann]

This was the daily prayer on a site I visit, and I thought I'd share it here today. My we all find peace, that no mother's son or daughter need ever die in another war. May the freedom and justice that so many have fought for begin with each one of us in our hearts.

Let us know peace.
For as long as the moon shall rise,
For as long as the rivers shall flow,
For as long as the sun will shine,
For as long as the grass shall grow,
Let us know peace.