For Veterans day from a Canadian

http://www.vac-acc.gc.ca/general/sub...irstwar/mccrae

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

Bill C

(TritonRider) writes:

http://www.vac-acc.gc.ca/general/sub...irstwar/mccrae

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow

Hmm. I was just browsing ''In Flanders Fields'' the book by Norman Jorgensen.

In Flanders' Fields, set in the trenches of World War One, tells the story of
a young, homesick Anzac soldier who, on Christmas morning, faces almost
certain death in a seemingly hopeless attempt to rescue a robin caught in the
wire of no man's land. Although the story takes place in only a few
minutes of a long and brutal war, the fighting has paused and no violence is
seen. The whole focus of the book is on the similarity of the soldiers on both
sides of the fence and the absolute futility of war.

But that's a very memorable poem you quoted, the one by John McRae who
incidentally copped it in 1918 and is in fact In Flanders Fields

--
le Vent a Dos, Davey Crockett
Six Day Site - current year Sixes: http://sixday.741.com/2004-2005/2004-2005.html
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(TritonRider) writes:

http://www.vac-acc.gc.ca/general/sub...irstwar/mccrae

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow

Hmm. I was just browsing ''In Flanders Fields'' the book by Norman Jorgensen.

In Flanders' Fields, set in the trenches of World War One, tells the story of
a young, homesick Anzac soldier who, on Christmas morning, faces almost
certain death in a seemingly hopeless attempt to rescue a robin caught in the
wire of no man's land. Although the story takes place in only a few
minutes of a long and brutal war, the fighting has paused and no violence is
seen. The whole focus of the book is on the similarity of the soldiers on both
sides of the fence and the absolute futility of war.

But that's a very memorable poem you quoted, the one by John McRae who
incidentally copped it in 1918 and is in fact In Flanders Fields

--
le Vent a Dos, Davey Crockett
Six Day Site - current year Sixes: http://sixday.741.com/2004-2005/2004-2005.html
Latest Road Racing news at http://sixday.741.com/news.html
RSS feed: http://sixday.741.com/rssfeed/newsfeed.rss

"Davey Crockett" wrote in message
...
(TritonRider) writes:

http://www.vac-acc.gc.ca/general/sub...irstwar/mccrae

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow

Hmm. I was just browsing ''In Flanders Fields'' the book by Norman
Jorgensen.

And for those curious about poems and poppies :
On August 4, 1914, Canada declared war on Germany. Within three weeks,
45,000 Canadians had rushed to join up. John McCrae was among them. He was
appointed brigade-surgeon to the First Brigade of the Canadian Forces
Artillery with the rank of Major and second-in-command.

Just before his departure, he wrote to a friend:
It is a terrible state of affairs, and I am going because I think every
bachelor, especially if he has experience of war, ought to go. I am really
rather afraid, but more afraid to stay at home with my conscience.
(Prescott. In Flanders Fields: The Story of John McCrae, p. 77)
He took with him a horse named Bonfire, a gift from a friend. Later, John
McCrae sent his young nieces and nephews letters supposedly written by
Bonfire and signed with a hoof print.
In April 1915, John McCrae was in the trenches near Ypres, Belgium, in the
area traditionally called Flanders. Some of the heaviest fighting of the
First World War took place there during that was known as the Second Battle
of Ypres.
On April 22, the Germans used deadly chlorine gas against Allied troops in a
desperate attempt to break the stalemate. Despite the debilitating effects
of the gas, Canadian soldiers fought relentlessly and held the line for
another 16 days.
In the trenches, John McCrae tended hundreds of wounded soldiers every day.
He was surrounded by the dead and the dying. In a letter to his mother, he
wrote of the Battle of Ypres.
The general impression in my mind is of a nightmare. We have been in the
most bitter of fights. For seventeen days and seventeen nights none of us
have had our clothes off, nor our boots even, except occasionally. In all
that time while I was awake, gunfire and rifle fire never ceased for sixty
seconds ..... And behind it all was the constant background of the sights of
the dead, the wounded, the maimed, and a terrible anxiety lest the line
should give way.(Prescott. In Flanders Fields: The Story of John McCrae, p.
98)
The day before he wrote his famous poem, one of McCrae's closest friends was
killed in the fighting and buried in a makeshift grave with a simple wooden
cross. Wild poppies were already beginning to bloom between the crosses
marking the many graves. Unable to help his friend or any of the others who
had died, John McCrae gave them a voice through his poem. It was the second
last poem he was to write.
Soon after it was written, he was transferred to No. 3 (McGill) Canadian
General Hospital in France where he was Chief of Medical Services. The
hospital was housed in huge tents at Dannes-Cammiers until cold wet weather
forced a move to the site of the ruins of the Jesuit College at Boulogne.
When the hospital opened its doors in February 1916, it was a 1,560-bed
facility covering 26 acres. Here the wounded were brought from the Battle of
the Somme, the Battle of Vimy Ridge, the third Battle of Ypres and from
Arras and Passchendaele.
http://www.vac-acc.gc.ca/general/sub...ccrae/flanders

"Davey Crockett" wrote in message
...
(TritonRider) writes:

http://www.vac-acc.gc.ca/general/sub...irstwar/mccrae

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow

Hmm. I was just browsing ''In Flanders Fields'' the book by Norman
Jorgensen.

And for those curious about poems and poppies :
On August 4, 1914, Canada declared war on Germany. Within three weeks,
45,000 Canadians had rushed to join up. John McCrae was among them. He was
appointed brigade-surgeon to the First Brigade of the Canadian Forces
Artillery with the rank of Major and second-in-command.

Just before his departure, he wrote to a friend:
It is a terrible state of affairs, and I am going because I think every
bachelor, especially if he has experience of war, ought to go. I am really
rather afraid, but more afraid to stay at home with my conscience.
(Prescott. In Flanders Fields: The Story of John McCrae, p. 77)
He took with him a horse named Bonfire, a gift from a friend. Later, John
McCrae sent his young nieces and nephews letters supposedly written by
Bonfire and signed with a hoof print.
In April 1915, John McCrae was in the trenches near Ypres, Belgium, in the
area traditionally called Flanders. Some of the heaviest fighting of the
First World War took place there during that was known as the Second Battle
of Ypres.
On April 22, the Germans used deadly chlorine gas against Allied troops in a
desperate attempt to break the stalemate. Despite the debilitating effects
of the gas, Canadian soldiers fought relentlessly and held the line for
another 16 days.
In the trenches, John McCrae tended hundreds of wounded soldiers every day.
He was surrounded by the dead and the dying. In a letter to his mother, he
wrote of the Battle of Ypres.
The general impression in my mind is of a nightmare. We have been in the
most bitter of fights. For seventeen days and seventeen nights none of us
have had our clothes off, nor our boots even, except occasionally. In all
that time while I was awake, gunfire and rifle fire never ceased for sixty
seconds ..... And behind it all was the constant background of the sights of
the dead, the wounded, the maimed, and a terrible anxiety lest the line
should give way.(Prescott. In Flanders Fields: The Story of John McCrae, p.
98)
The day before he wrote his famous poem, one of McCrae's closest friends was
killed in the fighting and buried in a makeshift grave with a simple wooden
cross. Wild poppies were already beginning to bloom between the crosses
marking the many graves. Unable to help his friend or any of the others who
had died, John McCrae gave them a voice through his poem. It was the second
last poem he was to write.
Soon after it was written, he was transferred to No. 3 (McGill) Canadian
General Hospital in France where he was Chief of Medical Services. The
hospital was housed in huge tents at Dannes-Cammiers until cold wet weather
forced a move to the site of the ruins of the Jesuit College at Boulogne.
When the hospital opened its doors in February 1916, it was a 1,560-bed
facility covering 26 acres. Here the wounded were brought from the Battle of
the Somme, the Battle of Vimy Ridge, the third Battle of Ypres and from
Arras and Passchendaele.
http://www.vac-acc.gc.ca/general/sub...ccrae/flanders

On Fri, 12 Nov 2004 05:31:59 GMT, Jim Flom wrote:
[John McCrae] took with him a horse named Bonfire

I did not know that. I'm curious if the famous(?) Dutch dressage horse
was named after him.

--
Firefox Web Browser - Rediscover the web - http://getffox.com/
Thunderbird E-mail and Newsgroups - http://gettbird.com/

On Fri, 12 Nov 2004 05:31:59 GMT, Jim Flom wrote:
[John McCrae] took with him a horse named Bonfire

I did not know that. I'm curious if the famous(?) Dutch dressage horse
was named after him.

--
Firefox Web Browser - Rediscover the web - http://getffox.com/
Thunderbird E-mail and Newsgroups - http://gettbird.com/

Jim Flom wrote:
[John McCrae] took with him a horse named Bonfire

Ewoud Dronkert wrote:
I did not know that. I'm curious if the famous(?) Dutch dressage horse
was named after him.

RBR should know the answer to this one
(http://groups.google.com/groups?q=dr...ers.com&rnum=3)

Jim Flom wrote:
[John McCrae] took with him a horse named Bonfire

Ewoud Dronkert wrote:
I did not know that. I'm curious if the famous(?) Dutch dressage horse
was named after him.

RBR should know the answer to this one
(http://groups.google.com/groups?q=dr...ers.com&rnum=3)

On 12 Nov 2004 03:31:52 GMT, (TritonRider) wrote:

Probably the U.S. equivalent from the same war, by Alan Seeger. He
died in 1916. One story that I read long ago, which may be completely
apocryphal, was that he was shot by a sniper at a fence, making his
death very close to the poem.

I have a rendevous with Death At some disputed barricade When Spring
comes round with rustling shade And apple blossoms fill the air. I
have a rendevous with Death When Spring brings back blue days and
fair.

It may be he shall take my hand And lead me into his dark land And
close my eyes and quench my breath; It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendevous with Death On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year And the first meadow flowers
appear.

God knows 'twere better to be deep Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep, Pulse night to pulse, and
breath to breath, Where hushed awakenings are dear . . . But I've a
rendevous with Death At midnight in some flaming town, When Spring
trips north again this year, And I to my pledged word am true, I shall
not fail that rendevous.

Curtis L. Russell
Odenton, MD (USA)
Just someone on two wheels...