Friday, April 24, 2009

ANZAC Day 2009



For Grandpop, and his brothers, who served in the Big One.
He sold poppies for the RSA on a Christchurch Street corner
until he could no longer.

And for Uncles Eddie and Leslie who served in the Other Big One,
dodging Rommel's Panzers in the dead of night in the North African desert.


What stories you might have told if I'd been but a bit older.

In Flanders Fields

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)

Canadian Army

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.

The poignant story behind the poem here.

1 comment:

Jayne said...

Lest we forget.