In Flanders Fields.

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.

by John McCrae, May 1915

As we stand on the brink of military action in Syria, this poem written 98 years ago seems even more poignant than usual.

Poppies were chosen as the symbol of the fallen, because the battlefields and the freshly dug graves turned red in the Spring and Summer of 1915 with a mass of poppies.

The botanical fact behind the astonishing flush of colour seen then , and indeed today in fields, is that poppy seeds will lie dormant in the ground for years and will only germinate when the soil is freshly dug or disturbed.
The Battlefields suddenly and unexpectedly provided optimum conditions for growth, in areas that had previously been grassland for years.