In Flanders Field Poem by John McCrae
In Flanders Field
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 don't believe In Flanders Fields is a pro-war poem; nor is it anti-war, it acknowledges the reality of war as a part of the human condition.
Someone just does not get it! First of all the British did not start that war, but by jove we ended it, what would you rather we did? give up to the enemy? your stark staring bonkers...and btw we did not use mustard gas unlike the enemy ! ! ! We will never break faith with all our brave Soldiers. John McCrae got it right, spot on!
They don't teach children about what actually happened to force the war upon the greatest generation, but without their sacrifice, we'd be speaking German right now. Thank you Hilary.
need to make a bridge of relation with a strict faith; it the faith is broken once then never it can be earned as before!
A very powerful, moving and touching poem. Well expressed and crafted.
I learned the poem by heart. I frequently repeat it at VFW events. More better to memorize it.
This is one of my favorite poems. I had to learn it on 6th grade and repeat by memory.
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. great write great 10+++++++++++++++++++++++
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9/17/2024 8:37:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
McCrae, a surgeon on the Western Front, wrote this in 1915 when the terrible slaughter was already taking place, and yet in the third stanza he tells us he wants it to continue. Instead of advocating peace and an end to the senseless waste of lives, the dead are telling those who take their place to continue the carnage. How did a poem expressing such insane sentiments achieve the stature that it enjoys today. In the words of the doctor at the end of Bridge on the River Kwai, Madness!
Freedom isn't free. You have to fight for the right to do what you think is right for you. The minute you stop fighting you lose your right to even survive. Not all fights are fought with the sword.