37. western front rememberance

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.



Lieutenant Colonel John Alexander McCrae, MD (November 30, 1872 – January 28, 1918)