I am being indulgent today, and thinking of my Great Uncle Herbert Arthur Ranns, who died in October 1918 whilst serving in the British Army.
Obviously, I never knew him, but I doubt his two young daughters did either.
And so, for Uncle Herbert, and all the other young men and women who died in World War I, I say thankyou.
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.
By John McCrae
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