| |||||||
|
On the 11th month of the 11th day of the 11th hour, we will remember our Canadian soldiers, who helped fight for our freedom in world war two. 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. Although this poem was written on May 3rd 1915, while world war one, was in progress, this poem is recited every year, in Schools, and services, through out Canada. Written by Dr. J. McCrae a Canadian 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.
|
| ||||||
