Seriously thoughtful In Flanders Fields

[kindlekitten]

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.

[GeoffC]

"They shall grow not old,
As we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them,
Nor the years condemn,
At the going down of the sun
And in the morning
We will remember them."

[poohbear_nc]

I've been continually struck with the parallels between WW I and the current conflict in Iraq & Afghanistan - in regards to the return of thousands of maimed soldiers of all nationalities - both physically & mentally maimed - back into everyday life. And the hurdles they must overcome to rejoin their families, friends, and communities. Truly living reminders of the human cost of war to those they are serving.

[Sparrow]

I remember too the message bequeathed to us by Wilfred Owen M.C. (1893 - 1918) - a poet who died in the First World War, but did not wish others to "Take up our quarrel with the foe".

Dulce Et Decorum Est

The title comes from "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori" (It is sweet and proper to die for one's country).

[Moejoe]

"The only thing a bullet ever did was line the coffins of the poor and the pockets of the rich."

"They can stick their poems and their poppies up their arses."

- Private Joseph (Big Joe) Lyon - Royal 5th South Lancashire Regiment. 1914-1918 (Grandfather. Shot in the shoulder a day before armistice.

"Wars are for little men with big voices who don't know how to speak."

Joseph (Little Joe) Lyon. (AWOL. Conscientious Objector. Prisoner. Uncle)

[obs20]

Steeleye Span Fighting for Strangers Lyrics:

What makes you go abroad fighting for strangers
When you could be safe at home free from all dangers?
A recruiting sergeant came our way
To an Inn nearby at the close of day
He said young Johnny you're a fine young man
Would you like to march along behind a military band,
With a scarlet coat and a big cocked hat,
And a musket at your shoulder,
The shilling he took and he kissed the book,
Oh poor Johnny what will happen to ya?
The recruiting sergeant marched away
From the Inn nearby at the break of day,
Johnny went too with half a ring
He was off to be a soldier he'd be fighting for the King
In a far off war in a far off land
To face a foreign soldier,
But how will you fare when there's lead in the air,
Oh poor Johnny what'll happen to ya?
What makes you go abroad fighting for strangers
When you could be safe at home free from all dangers?
The sun shone hot on a barren land
As a thin red line took a military stand,
There was sling shot, chain shot, grape shot too,
Swords and bayonets thrusting through,
Poor Johnny fell but the day was won
And the King is grateful to you
But your soldiering's done and they're sending you home,
Oh poor Johnny what have they done to ya?
They said he was a hero and not to grieve
Over two wooden pegs and empty sleeves,
They carried him home and set him down
With a military pension and a medal from the crown.
You haven't an arm and you haven't a leg,
The enemy nearly slew you,
You'll have to go out on the streets to beg,
Oh poor Johnny what have they done to ya?
What makes you go abroad fighting for strangers
When you could be safe at home free from all dangers?


Lyrics: Fighting for Strangers, Steeleye Span [end]