We honor our veterans, past and present, who took so little and gave so much

WE MUST NEVER FORGET

IN FLANDERS FIELDS by John 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 the 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 McRae in uniform, circa 1914

Note:

Major John McCrae was a surgeon in the Canadian army during the first world war. 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; he died of pneumonia a few months later.

Honoring our veterans, past and present

WE MUST NEVER FORGET