It began as "Decoration Day"--a day when families of those who fell in the Civil War "decorated" their graves with flowers and other tokens of rememberance. Over time the name evolved in to Memorial Day. Then came WWI and other battles that claimed and are still claiming American lives and that day also evolved to become a day to remember American military personnel who died in all wars and became a national holiday.
The Flanders Field American Cemetery and Memorial in Belgium occupies a 6.2-acre site and is the resting place of 368 of our military dead, most of whom gave their lives in liberating Belgium in World War I. It was the inspiration for poem "In Flanders Field the Poppies Bloom" by a Canadian, John McCrae in May 1915. His poem became the reason why our Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) members sell paper poppies each year on Memorial Day.
IN FLANDERS FIELDS THE POPPIES BLOW
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.
So as you enjoy this three day "vacation," please take a moment to remember all those who sacrificed everything in service to our country.
Peggie
The Flanders Field American Cemetery and Memorial in Belgium occupies a 6.2-acre site and is the resting place of 368 of our military dead, most of whom gave their lives in liberating Belgium in World War I. It was the inspiration for poem "In Flanders Field the Poppies Bloom" by a Canadian, John McCrae in May 1915. His poem became the reason why our Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) members sell paper poppies each year on Memorial Day.
IN FLANDERS FIELDS THE POPPIES BLOW
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.
So as you enjoy this three day "vacation," please take a moment to remember all those who sacrificed everything in service to our country.
Peggie