A DAY OF REMEMBRANCE. November 11th 2015

The common poppy Papaver rhoeas, lay dormant in the soil of the Flanders corn fields until the heavy shelling of WW1 disturbed the ground. It became the symbol of remembrance for those whose lives were lost, including my grandfather's cousin, Benjamin Richard Knowles, aged 24years, killed on May 16th 1915 at Flanders. Remembered at Le Touret Memorial, Pas de Calais, France.

Take up your 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

John McCrae

NOVEMBER 11 2014, A HUNDRED YEARS OF REMEMBRANCE

We are all too young to remember the First World War, which began 100 years ago in August  1914. An estimated 10 million lives were lost on those battlefields. Every year we mark their sacrifice on November 11, or Armistice day as it was first known, that day on November 11th. 1918 when the cease fire was announced. 10,000 men died or were wounded on that last day of the war.

The red poppy has long been associated with this day. It came as a surprise to me that an American lady was responsible for the idea of the poppy being the symbol of remembrance, which many wear on this day, because I never see I never see poppies being sold here or people wearing them.

Poppies grow all too easily in my garden as they do in the fields of Flanders, long immortalized in the poem, by Canadian physician John McCrae, In Flander's Fields. They can lie dormant in the soil for years and germinate when the soil is disturbed. McCrae wrote his poem after burying his friend, who died at the second battle of Ypres, and where the poppies that grew around the grave made a deep impression on him.

In 1918 an American school teacher, Miss Moina Michael, was a volunteer in the YMCA in New York, when she read McCrae's poem in the Ladies' Home Journal. Inspired by these final words of the poem

'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 Flander's fields'

and the photograph of ghostly soldiers and poppies, she responded by writing her own poem which included the following lines.

We cherish too the poppy red,
That grows on fields where valour led
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies.

When other volunteers read her poem, they collected $10, and Moina went out and bought 25 red silk poppies which she pinned on the office staff. When the war ended she campaigned the American Legion for the poppy to be the memorial emblem for American fallen soldiers. A French visitor to the convention determined that the commemorative poppy should not be confined to America. She went home to France and arranged for the making of the poppies by French war widows. 9 million poppies were ordered for the first Poppy Day to be held on November 11 1919. The tradition continues to this day.

 I remember well the selling of the poppies, by service veterans, every year. They were sold by modest donation. Today's poppies are simpler and made of paper.

There have been special observances this year to mark the Centenary year and they will continue until November 2018, the day the war ended.

Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red. Outside the Tower of London, 888,246 ceramic poppies, representing the number of British who died in WW1, have been planted in ground.

The three photographs, shown here, were taken by Canadian friends who visited London in September. At that time not all the poppies had been added.

Photographs of the completed display can be seen  here Unfortunately copyright prevents me from adding these images to my blog.
I hope as the clock strikes 11 on this day you with think of those who lost their lives in wars everywhere.

WENT THE DAY WELL

                                                                 Went the day well?

                                                                 We died and never knew.

                                                                 But, well or ill,

                                                                 Freedom, we died for you
                                                                                          John Maxwell Edmonds

The Bayeux War Cemetery

11/11/11/11

I will always think of this day in November as Remembrance Day and hear the sounds of Elgar's Nimrod echoing in my ears from having watched the services and poppy wreath laying at the Cenotaph in Whitehall, London, when I was young.

Originally this day was called Armistice Day, to commemorate the end of fighting in WW I and the armistice signed on November 11th 1918. After the end of WW II  it became known as Remembrance Day in England and Veterans Day in America.

One chilly November day we walked between the rows of gravestones at the British Cemetery in France.

Then walked those very beaches where so many lost their lives.

The WW I battlefields are known collectively as the Flanders Fields. The ground was so disturbed by  mortar shells that it brought to the surface thousands of poppy seeds which bloomed the following year. The red corn poppy became the emblem of the fallen because of this and was immortalized in the words of John McCrae in his poem The Flanders Fields.

THE FLANDERS POPPY

This past Sunday it was Remembrance Sunday in England. A day on which those who died in the great wars are remembered. Remembrance day or Veterans day as it is know in the US is November 11th and at 11am on this day the country observes two minutes silence to remember those who died in the wars. November 11th at 11am is the moment at which the First World War came to an end. In England the Flanders or corn poppy, Papaver rhoeas, has become the flower synonymous with remembering those who have died for their country.

Corn poppies grow wild in my garden every year. Their seeds brought up from the deep as I work the soil, just like those of the poppies which grow in the fields at Ypres. They were disturbed by the the building of trenches and the artillary attacks.

In 1915, Lt Col. John McCrae, a doctor serving with the Canadian forces, wrote this poem in memory of his friend whom he had buried in May 1915. The poem appeared in the December issue of Punch that year. The poppy has become synonymous with the day and in England the poppy is worn in the buttonhole to remember those who lost their lives in the wars.

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.

This fall I planted seeds which came from the poppies in those fields, kindly given by Walt Krueger, one of Austin's Master Gardeners.

Let us all remember those who have given their lives that we might be free.