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, 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.

Lieutenant Colonel John McRae, November 30, 1872 through January 28, 1918.

Music January 28, 1918.

Hey folks, welcome to the Battles of the First World War podcast, standalone episode 8, Armistice Day, 2018.

So, this episode opened with what is likely the most famous poem to come out of the carnage of the Great War,

Lieutenant Colonel McRae's in Flanders Fields. It is likely also not very surprising that you would choose to open a reflection of the centenary of the end of World War I with this poem.

I've read this poem many times, but it hasn't been until the last few days

that I've really tried to read it deeply and grasp its meaning.

With the 100th anniversary of the end of the war, this poem takes on new meaning for me.

100 years now since the guns stopped in France and Belgium.

100 years since a new and uncomfortable silence spread across the Western Front at 11 a.m.

We were just seconds before the shriek and hammering of shells had rent the tortured earth from Flanders to the Vosges Mountains.

...