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In Flanders Fields


Guest bigbadbrent

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Guest bigbadbrent
In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

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.





Everyone please take a moment on this Sunday the 11th, pay your respect, thank the veterans....remember
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Thanks BBB.

 

Dad is 84 and his only surviving bro is 92. They were in the big one and will go to the services today in Mayerthorpe. Dad gets pretty damn misty at the services. Two years ago there were three brothers still alive--all three had been in WWII. Johnny (92) went over on D-Day and lived through it. My wife and I attended the services in 2005 with them all. It was the first time since WWII that all three brothers had been together at a Remembrance Day service. Most touching. Lots of tears.

 

The old guys know their days are numbered. It's pretty sad to watch the old buggers at the services. They hold secrets we will never know. Even though they lost friends and saw things we can't imagine, the old man still gets a twinkle in his eye when he thinks of the good times they had based in England between tours of duty in Europe.

 

He says, "Did I ever tell you the time in France when we found a case of Champagne and twenty Kraut mortar rounds...." You keep quiet, but think to yourself, "Yeah dad, you did tell me. But tell me again." We owe them that courtesy.

 

Unfortunately there are a few megalomaniacs is the world who want it all and we will always be at war somewhere on earth to try to suppress a few fanatics. It is pretty damn sad really that our young folk are still trying to keep us free from maniacs.

 

Let us never forget.

 

Cheers!

 

Clive

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Guest Sundancefisher

I have a ton to be thankful for. Not only did both my grandfathers survive the last world war (which is highly important otherwise I would not be here period), but my one grandfather instilled in me the love of fishing. My grandpa E was born in Ireland to a middle class family which owned a dairy business. When he was still quite young he came down with a bad disease that needed travel to get treatment. While out for treatment the family could not make ends meet and lost the farm. With absolutely nothing of value remaining to them other than family they noticed a request for immigrants wanting to start a new life in Canada.

 

They ended up traveling a long time without knowing where they would end up. Back then as an immigrant you often just went were rumor had it there were jobs and a community safety net (Church). They eventually were told Edmonton was the place to be.

 

When he came of age, the big war hit and he was one that was sent overseas. While Grandpa B was a foot soldier, Grandpa E was in the airforce. He was stationed on a bomber for pretty much the entire war and saw action repeatedly. I can only guess how bad it was since he could never and even refused to even discuss the war.

 

When he came back and started his life again, for him escape was fishing and painting of which both he was exceptionally good at. I have spend many days watching him icefishing at Wabamun and amazed that while I caught nothing he would limit out. Almost like God said this guy has been through enough and deserves a break. He picked up the smoking habit while in the airforce and unfortunately lung cancer is what eventually took him.

 

God bless all men and women that are, have or will serve in the military. I sincerely appreciate all the freedoms we take for granted in Canada.

 

Amen

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this is a great little vid

almost makes ya cry.

My grandpa fought in ww2 and

i sure wish he was here today so i could

thank him. He beat the war and lost his

battle with cancer when i was 10

Thanks Gramps

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Thanks to all for their service.

 

Of special meaning to me: my late father who served in the Pacific in WWII (a five foot two inch drill sergeant with a ten foot voice), my niece, an Air Force Captain who served in the Middle East, her husband, still serving in the AF, my husband's nephew in the US Army who just left Iraq and that young man's father, who just returned to Iraq. Blessings on you all.

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Great job Brent, thank you for starting this thread. We can never forget the sacrifice that these brave men and women make in order to protect our freedom. I, like many, have had grandparents serve in wars in the past and have friends serving in the peace-keeping missions in the Middle east. God bless those who lost their lives for us and their families. God protect those who are away from their families now, may they return to them soon..............

 

 

Wilfred Owen

Dulce Et Decorum Est

 

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs

And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.

 

GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling

And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--

Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

 

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

 

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace

Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,

His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est

Pro patria mori.

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My grandfather was stationed in the Aleutians (sp?) during WWII and he has great stories about friends and the goings on. He never saw any combat thankfully. Thanks to everyone who has put their life on the line in any capacity for our country. I hope that we all continue to remember and honour all of those that serve us. I fear that we sometimes overlook the people that serve at home or were involved in the lesser known conflicts. Thank you all.

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Great job Brent, thank you for starting this thread. We can never forget the sacrifice that these brave men and women make in order to protect our freedom. I, like many, have had grandparents serve in wars in the past and have friends serving in the peace-keeping missions in the Middle east. God bless those who lost their lives for us and their families. God protect those who are away from their families now, may they return to them soon..............

Wilfred Owen

Dulce Et Decorum Est

 

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs

And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.

 

GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling

And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--

Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

 

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

 

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace

Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,

His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est

Pro patria mori.

 

Man, anybody who can read this(and, I mean REALLY read it) and not be moved by what these brave people went through must have no shred

of humanity. It does not paint a pretty picture, does it? If I remember from Jr. High, the final line translates roughly to "It is good and

proper(honorable?) to die for one's country". Maybe the IDEA of dying for one's country is good & proper, but the bitter REALITY of it is

more like the scenario so gut-wrenchingly laid out above by Wilfred Owen.

Thanks for posting this, Kritofr; I know for a fact I didn't appreciate the brilliant writing or the sacrifice of the subjects of the piece 30 years ago.

 

Heartfelt thanks to all who serve or have served; keep a good thought for them- and not just this one day of the year.

-Steve M-

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this is a great little vid

almost makes ya cry.

My grandpa fought in ww2 and

i sure wish he was here today so i could

thank him. He beat the war and lost his

battle with cancer when i was 10

Thanks Gramps

 

Guys. Thanks for all these postings. I also had my real Grandfather (Leslie Leedham Peace) give his life in WW2 so that we could enjoy our freedon. The "Pittance of time" video hits home really hard for me. Most years I am on the side of the road with my 4 ways flashing, in my moment of silence while everyone else rushes on....

 

This year I got to go to the service with my dad... which is special to me..

 

Pay your respects, please...

 

and thanks to all those who in the past AND currently serve this great country.

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