Many will formally remember and honour on this November 11, those who have died in the line of duty. Those who made sacrifices. Those who gave their lives for our freedom.
The legacy of heroes is the memory of a great name and the inheritance of a great example. Benjamin Disraeli
The red poppy is such a passionate symbol that bloomed across the worst battlefields of Flanders in the First World War. The intense and vivid red which has become a famous symbol of the blood shed in war.
The dead soldier’s silence sings our national anthem. Aaron Kilbourn
Today we honour the martyrs of war. For their bravery. And courage. We may not know them but we owe them our respect. There will be many memorials across this country and many others worldwide. To mark and pay tribute to our past fallen soldiers and war heroes. This year marks 100 years. A centenary ‘lest we forget’ as we stand and remember with pride and thanks to the fallen but not forgotten.
My subject is War, and the Pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity. Wilfred Owen
As you take a moment to reflect on the sacrifices of our Armed Forces and Veterans, ponder over these touching quotations and poems. The heart felt poetry we appreciate reflects the beauty that arose out of the conflict of war that we will remain forever grateful to. ‘In Flanders Fields’, a famous poem was written by John McCrae a young Canadian soldier and doctor after his friend died in battle and was marked with a simple wooden cross.
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.
Wilfred Owen was an English poet and soldier. His poetry was drawn from the horrors he experienced. Dying in the line of duty, he is known as one of the greatest poets of the First World War. Sadly seven days before Armistice Day he lost his life. His gravestone bears a quote from his famous poem ‘The End”
After the blast of lightning from the east,
The flourish of loud clouds, the Chariot Throne;
After the drums of time have rolled and ceased,
And by the bronze west long retreat is blown,
Shall Life renew these bodies? Of a truth,
All death will he annul, all tears assuage?
Or fill these void veins full again with youth,
And wash, with an immortal water, age?
When I do ask white Age, he saith not so:
‘My head hangs weighed with snow.’
And when I hearken to the Earth, she saith:
‘My fiery heart shrinks, aching. It is death.
Mine ancient scars shall not be glorified,
Nor my titanic tears, the seas, be dried.’