Flander's Fields

John McCrae, a Canadian poet and medical officer wrote a poem for all of the young soldiers who died in all of the battles in Flanders. It is called Flanders Fields, first published in the Punch magazine. This is what he wrote:

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.

McCrae wrote this poem sitting in the back of an ambulance, after a funeral he held. The funeral was for a Lieut. Alexis Helmer of Ottawa, his friend and former student. His death especially affected McCrae and so he mourned by writing. He tossed the poem, dissatisfied with it, but a fellow officer retrieved it and sent it to newspapers in England, and that's how we got a hold of it.

McCrae's description of that sad morning was said to be perfect and exact to the field they were at, with poppies blowing in the wind.