"Welcome to Memorial Day, 2005. This is a time set aside to remember those who gave their all for their country. Celebrate that. If you're fortunate enough to live in the nation that represents the last best hope for freedom then do those things this weekend which bring you joy. Cook out. Travel. Be with friends and family. Eat, drink and be merry. If you have a moment, a toast to those who've made it possible would be fine. You honor their sacrifice by living well."
Greyhawk, Mudvillegazette
Update: Some of the commenters at Mudvillegazette seem to think the above is a little frivolous, but the author is in the Military and I thought it a generous and gracious Memorial Day 'remembrance' on his part.
Remembrance Day or Poppy Day here in the UK is marked at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month.
It marks the signing of the Armistice, on 11th November 1918, to signal the end of World War One.
At 11 am on 11 November 1918 the guns of the Western Front fell silent after more than four years continuous warfare.
At one time the day was known as Armistice Day and was renamed Remembrance Day after the Second World War.
Remembrance Sunday is held on the second Sunday in November, which is usually the Sunday nearest to 11 November. Special services are held at war memorials and churches all over Britain. A national ceremony takes place at the cenotaph in Whitehall, London.
John McCrae's poem may be the most famous one of the Great War.
The day before he wrote "In Flanders Fields", one of John's closest friends was killed and buried in a grave decorated with only a simple wooden cross. Wild poppies were already blooming between the crosses that marked the graves of those who were killed in battle.
Unable to help his friend or other fallen soldiers, John McCrae gave them a voice through "In Flanders Field."
IN FLANDERS FIELDS by John McCrae
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.
Posted by: Ingrid | June 03, 2005 at 03:46 PM
Ingrid - I've always wanted to know the meaning of the poppies! Thanks :)
Posted by: MD | June 04, 2005 at 01:49 PM