Lest We Forget

In 1976 I spent the summer in Belgium. I frequently wore a red zip-up hoodie with a Canadian flag on the sleeve. Frequently while traveling the countryside people stopped me to comment on my flag. These older and middle-aged people bore in their faces some of life's hard times. Without fail they said, "We remember the Canadians - they liberated us." 

Those who lived with war's reality every day, in view of woods where soldiers fought and hid, in view of field torn still by mines and bombs, in view of buildings destroyed, and memories of lives lost never forgot. 

And we, so far from war's reality, would do well to remember. Today soldiers from many nations serve their countries, and we who remain behind so far from war's chaos. Political rhetoric aside, let us remember.

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.

John McCrae, May 1915