Never Forget!

This site may earn a commission from merchant affiliate
links, including eBay, Amazon, Skimlinks, and others.


Jun 13, 2010
Vestavia, AL
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.

I've always found comfort, oddly, in John McCrae's poem. As a kid I had no idea what it meant. Fast forward a few years and there I was, sitting in a field of poppies in Afghanistan idling in our MV-22B waiting for Marines, Aussies, and Afghans to embark so we could get the F*CK out of the zone. With each flight hour the poem became more poignant: the torch had been passed to us, we are charged to keep the faith--we must honor the fallen. Never forget the sacrifices of our allies.

To the Lost!:beer:
We had to recite this from memory in seventh grade...
I STILL know the majority of it.
To the lost.

Semper Fidelis,

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom