In Flanders Fields

One of the nicest things about living in Canada at the moment, and by that I mean "at this moment in time", is how things are so much less politicized than elsewhere in the world. 

England has made the poppy a symbol of nationalism: I hate that. For that reason, I would never wear a poppy in the UK. Yet here, it is a way of remembering those that have died in wars and battles over the years. A way of paying respect, being grateful, and not having some jumped up Tory telling you what it should mean to you.

Ottawacker Jr. started learning about this this year. It has been well done. He made his own poppy, watched a link to the service at the cenotaph, and read "In Flanders Fields" by Canada's own John McCrae.

The link takes you to a recital of the poem by Leonard Cohen.

It is important to remember all those that have died and suffered because of war. But it is perhaps more important that we remember why those people died. And make sure we neither send millions to their deaths needlessly ever again, nor allow the creeping menace of fascism (in all its guises) to take root.

In Flanders Fields

John McCrae - 1872-1918

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.