Rotating Header Image



BD10337_.gif The brass from my father’s hat

IN FLANDERS FIELDS, by John McCrae, 1915

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.

BD10337_.gifHistory of Memorial Day

BD10337_.gif How to Observe Memorial Day

BD10337_.gifA Memorial Day Prayer

BD10337_.gif …remember with compassion those who have died…

C O M M E N T S : now closed