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Titia Geertman
{K:5582} 1/20/2004
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This is such a beautiful tribute to those soldiers that died for freedom.
Flanders Fields is not too far from my house and only today I went over to Ypres (Ieper) to get a door for my old farmhouse at an antique buildingmaterial market. And I came across one of the American fields of honour. Every time I see them, it's impressive how many men died in that war.
I visited the trenches of Diksmuide, they turned them into a beautiful monument and I got goosepimples imagining in what circomstances those men lived during the war, not prepared for the cold Winter at all, they were.
Thank you for sharing this with us and I'm saddened that so little was learned from that war till today. Flanders Fields has repeated itself over and over again, alas.
Titia
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Suzanne
{K:1466} 11/12/2003
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Thank you for remembering and thank you for making us remember. I am deeply touched by this moment you share with all of us. I always hope there will be an end to those horribles wars that break and kill so many lives. I know too much that it won't. But when I see people caring for this as I do, I feel less lonely
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Donna Albers
{K:330} 11/12/2003
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I find this very moving.
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sandy c. hopkins
{K:17107} 11/12/2003
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abslolutely beautiful!
in everyway.
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Antonella Nistri
{K:21867} 11/12/2003
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Just great! Antonella
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luisa vassallo
{K:28230} 11/11/2003
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great!
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peta jones
{K:12615} 11/11/2003
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"Inspired by McCrae's poem, American Moina Michael wore poppies to honor the war dead. She also began to sell poppies to raise money for disabled veterans. After meeting Moina Michael in 1920, Frenchwoman Madame E. Guérin started selling handmade poppies to raise money for poor children who were living in the aftermath of the Great War. Soon thereafter Field-Marshall Earl Haig, the former British Commander-in-Chief, encouraged the selling of paper poppies to raise funds for veterans."
I recall the selling of paper poppies by the men from the RSA, (Returned Soldiers Assoc), when I lived in NZ.
Thank you for this remembrance image In Transit.
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Harlan Heald
{K:15732} 11/11/2003
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Excellent tribute!
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
(I had to learn this in the 5th grade.)
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karen barnett
{K:4237} 11/10/2003
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I watched the poppies as they fell
and wondered if and when they'd tell
the dreadful carnage I beheld
on the slopes of Flanders Field.
No friend of mine these flowers tall
who waft and wave with no recall
of those who died both large and small
on the slopes of Flanders Field.
I sing this song to make it known
that all the poppy seeds were sown
in bloodsoaked ground of our own
on the slopes of Flanders Field.
Bright poppies red from blood twas shed
on the slopes of Flanders Field.
A powerful image, a powerful memory, a powerful emotion. kb
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Diane Chouinard
{K:797} 11/10/2003
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I am very touched by this photo and this poem, maybe because Colonel John McCrae was Canadian, as I am. I had been looking for this poem and now I will save it with your picture. Thanks.
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In Transit
{K:29432} 11/10/2003
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The red poppy-the Flanders poppy-was first described as the flower of remembrance by Colonel John McCrae.
At the second battle of Ypres in 1915, when in charge of a small first-aid post, he wrote in pencil on a page torn from his despatch book a poem, part of which read:
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, author.
Written in memory of all lost lives during the Great War (1914-1918),
a war to end all wars.
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