In Flanders Fields by John McCrae, May 1915
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.
In my dining room is a picture collage of my grandfather, my father, and my brother in their dress uniforms. Each picture was taken during their time of service, three generations of military men. I am filled with a great sense of pride when I see them all together. We have been very fortunate in my family not to have lost anyone in combat. My father tells me that all of my grandmother's brothers (she had 6 of them) all went to war during WWII and all came home safely. My brother is currently in the military and has been in the military since he was 18 years old (he celebrates his 33rd birthday in December). The military life has carried him from boyhood to man. Without the military, I would have never been adopted by my parents. Thanks Dad!
2 comments:
What a sweet post! We went to our first Veterans Day Parade yesterday...Stewart came home singing "proud to be an American".
Growing up with a Navy dad gives me such a deep appreciation for our military too. I remember growing up on base and standing to the anthem prior to every movie in the theatre...or when the bugles played at 5 p.m. - no matter where you were, everyone stopped and put their hands over their heart. It felt so safe.
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