I will now include the American; R.W. Lilliard’s response when America joined "The Great War". This was in reply to Dr. John MaCrae’s famous poem ( Flanders Fields); it was named: America's Answer Rest ye in peace, ye Flanders dead. The fight that ye so bravely led We've taken up. And we will keep True faith with you who lie asleep With a cross to mark his bed, In Flanders Fields. Fear not that ye have died for naught. The torch ye threw to us we caught. Ten million hands will hold it high, And Freedom's light shall never die! We've learned the lesson that ye taught In Flanders Fields.
If you liked that one Brad, here is a real "lump in the throat" poem. This one by a Don Crawford, who is of unknown nationality to myself, but I suspect either Canadian or British since "Rememberance Day" is the name for Nov. 11th in both (his poem is also untitled to my knowledge): "Please wear a poppy," the lady said And held one forth, but I shook my head. Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there, And her face was old and lined with care; But beneath the scars the years had made There remained a smile that refused to fade. A boy came whistling down the street, Bouncing along on care-free feet. His smile was full of joy and fun, "Lady," said he, "may I have one?" When she's pinned it on he turned to say, "Why do we wear a poppy today?" The lady smiled in her wistful way And answered, "This is Remembrance Day, And the poppy there is the symbol for The gallant men who died in war. And because they did, you and I are free. That's why we wear a poppy, you see. "I had a boy about your size, With golden hair and big blue eyes. He loved to play and jump and shout, Free as a bird he would race about. As the years went by he learned and grew, And became a man as you will, too. "He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile, But he'd seemed with us such a little while When war broke out and he went away. I still remember his face that day When he smiled at me and said, Goodbye, I'll be back soon, Mom, so please don't cry. "But the war went on and he had to stay, And all I could do was wait and pray. His letters told of the awful fight, I can see it still in my dreams at night, With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire, And the mines and bullets, The bombs and fire. "Till at last, at last, the war was won, And that's why we wear a poppy son." The small boy turned as if to go, Then said, "Thanks, lady, I'm glad to know. That sure did sound like an awful fight, But your son, did he come back all right?" A tear rolled down each faded check; She shook her head, but didn't speak. I slunk away in a sort of shame, And if you were me you'd have done the same; For our thanks, in giving, if oft delayed, Though our freedom was bought, And thousands paid! So when we see a poppy worn, Let us reflect on the burden borne, By those who gave their very all When asked to answer their country's call That we at home in peace might live. Then wear a poppy! Remember - and give!
For the Fallen With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children, England mourns for her dead across the sea. Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit, Fallen in the cause of the free. Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres. There is music in the midst of desolation And a glory that shines upon our tears. They went with songs to the battle, they were young, Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow. They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted, They fell with their faces to the foe. They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old; Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning We will remember them. They mingle not with their laughing comrades again; They sit no more at familiar tables at home; They have no lot in our labour of the day-time; They sleep beyond England's foam. But where our desires are and our hopes profound, Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight, To the innermost heart of their own land they are known As the stars are known to the Night; As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust, Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain, As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness, To the end, to the end, they remain. Laurence Binyon (1869-1943) For The Fallen "They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old; Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning We will remember them." This section of the poem is often repeated through RSL's throughout Australia, just before they serve dinner. For those unknown, RSL stands for Returned Soldiers League, which was a league set up to look after returned soldiers from ww1. Now they are often filled with photo's uniforms and in some cases medals, soldiers letters home and the occasional love letters. All which are donated to them from families related to the war. Now though they are mor often seen as place to go and have dinner or to have a beer and watch the footy, but the diggers are always remembered.
One that I find very poignant: Anthem for Doomed Youth, Wilfred Owen What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons.4 No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells; Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, – The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; And bugles calling for them from sad shires. What candles may be held to speed them all? Not in the hands of boys but in their eyes Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes. The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall; Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds, And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds. A reminder to think deeply before we send more young men to war, whatever the cause.
War Hero Beaten Up By Intruders An 89-year-old war hero who risked his life for his country abroad has been beaten mercilessly by burglars in his own home. Bob Schofield was beaten 'mercilessly' about the head and face Bob Schofield was left bloodied and bruised after confronting intruders who broke into his house just hours after millions in the UK paid respects to those who fought and died on Remembrance Sunday. Mr Schofield was at home with his wife, Mollie, 87, when the couple were disturbed from sleep. He was battered repeatedly in the face and head at the couple's cottage in Salterforth, Lancs, in the early hours of Monday. They were only discovered hours later, lying injured and bleeding on the floor, after neighbours raised the alarm. Police have released a shocking photo of Mr Schofield to show what detectives describe as the "obscene" level of violence the frail pensioner's attackers used. It's hard to imagine a more heartless, cowardly and despicable occurrence and detectives will leave no stone unturned in their efforts to find those responsible. - Acting Detective Inspector Dave Groombridge The former Royal Navy sailor served on the notorious North Atlantic convoys bringing aid to Britain's allies in Russia. He battled mountainous seas and enemy attack while crewing escort ships on missions across the North Sea from Scapa Flow to Murmansk. The convoys suffered some of the heaviest losses in the war as Nazi U-Boats and enemy dive bombers attacked. Mr Schofield and his wife are recovering from their ordeal in Airedale Hospital, Keighley, West Yorkshire. Acting Detective Inspector Dave Groombridge said: "This is a deplorable offence, committed against an elderly defenceless couple in their own home. "It's hard to imagine a more heartless, cowardly and despicable occurrence and detectives will leave no stone unturned in their efforts to find those responsible. "Bob is 89 years of age and can't have been a serious threat to anyone. The level of violence used is obscene and I appeal to anyone with knowledge of the offence or the identity of the offenders to come forward. "Even those in or on the periphery of crime cannot surely condone this behaviour and I particularly appeal to the criminal fraternity to call time on this and do what is right."
Thank you all for sharing the poems. Yesterday, I watched two services. After driving in freezing rain the day before, I'm sorry to say that the freezing rain yesterday kept us in - but not just over 8,000 who still attended the service here. First, we watched the service from the War Memorial on Paliament Hill in Ottawa. Particularly moving was when they had a part in which they did a satellite video link to the last Canadian World War I Veteran, John Babcock 108, who held a torch which was then passed to a World War II Veteran at the Remembrance Service, who then passed it to a Korean War Veteran, who passed it to a Peace Keeping Veteran, who then handed it off to a Veteran of the War in Afghanistan. The Afghanistan Veteran then placed the torch in a special holder at the base of the Unknown Soldiers Grave and stood on watch there for the balance of the service. The Canadian Press: Canadians pay tribute to war dead Following the national service which was 1 hour ahead of here, we watched the local service live. The last blessing was sung by a Cantor and the salute was taken by some Afghanistan Veterans. For the first time ever, though, the World War II Veterans were seated for the Service. They always used to refuse, and it would seem ironic to see the kids in the cubs or even those doing cenotaph duty have more trouble standing for an hour than the Veterans from World War II. I honour and remember all those who have served - going in harms way, so that we won't have to do so.
Glancing through the threads I saw this one commemorating Veterans Day and noticed a member who lost his own battle posted some very poignant thoughts. RIP Clint.
Hi it's Ron here....... Here in the UK we have just had the ceremony at the Cenotaph with about 9000 marchers taking part. In the past, on two different occasions, I have marched .with them and know how uplifting the day can be. Next week, all being will I will be at a .different event, namely the AJEX ,parade, this being the Association of Jewish Ex-Servicemen & Women and I have been attending this for about 70 odd years. What will be different for me this year is the fact that I have opted not to march but will instead have a seated place at the Cenotaph itself. Next week I will report back to tell you how the day went. Ron ps Whilst posting this I thought you might be interested in an up-dated version of my ww2 backround Ron Goldstein remembers ww2
Well Said. Whenever I have been back since learning of his of his passing, it always makes me sad and yet honoured to have known him via the Forum. I have messages from him that will never get deleted if I can help it.
