Field of Red

I take the liberty today to talk about Veteran's Day, and to pause to remember those who serve, have served, and those who, as they say, made the ultimate sacrifice to protect the nation, to keep us free. In this jaded and cynical world, it is sometimes hard to imagine there are those who CHOOSE to serve, whose love of the "Red, White and Blue", or "King and Country" goes well beyond everyday patriotism. After the difficulties of the Vietnam war, it almost became embarrassing to acknowledge love of country. But, there are those who stand proud. Today, we do a better job of honoring our fighting men and women, for their service in the Afghanistan, Iraq and a myriad of dessert conflicts. But we can always do more.

One beautiful tribute that has honored the war dead is the magnificent display of ceramic poppies at the Tower of London in England. Over several months, over 888,246 poppies have been placed in the moat, representing the field of red, the blood spilt in WWI. These lovely, handmade flowers each represent one life lost of British and Canadian soldiers in the conflict that began 100 years ago. It acknowledges the poem written by Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae (Canadian physician). He wrote it on May 3, 1915 for a friend who died in the war.

In Flanders fields the poppies grow,
      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.

Crowds and crowds of people have come to see the display. It will be dismantled after today, and hopefully people will remember thought the red field will be gone. In a way, (as long as we don't forget), perhaps that is a good thing. Like the profuse flag-waving that came after the 9/11, eventually we got on with things, put the horror away a bit, and carry on.