In Flander Fields - by John McCrae

[Zaragoza]

July 28 1914 - November 11 1918


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.

​

 

[Applejack]

Is this a thread for gay fan fics? Cuz I have one about Vanilla Ice called Choco/vanilla swirl. It's about the watergate scandal and how it effected modern geopolitical relationships.

 

[You Can't Sit With Us]

Stupid sexy Flanders

 

[Chaos Theorist]

Imagine all of the poppy seed tea and heroin you could make with the poppies in flanders fields. No wonder Flanders is always so cheerful and wealthy when he has all of the smack going!

 

[The Manglement]

It sure is sad that all those men died fighting for bullshit politics and the ideology of (((international bankers))).

 

[Big Meaty Claws]

It sure is sad that all those men died fighting for bullshit politics and the ideology of (((international bankers))).

That's almost any war really.

 

[Coconut Gun]

Poetry is gay.

 

[J A N D E K]

 

[Francis E. Dec Esc.]

 

[Le Pew]

https://www.reuters.com/article/us-...th-anniversary-of-ww1-armistice-idUSKCN1NF0SE

It's always amazed me that we are mostly a generation or two away from being completely unknown to those who are alive now. How many of us know who our great grandmothers or great grandfathers truly are outside of of old faded pictures. Yesterday marks 100 years since the armistice of WW1, where incredible amounts of people died (people related to who we are today) and yet very few of us know any of them. RIP WW1 bros. Great post Op.

 

[PorcupineTree]

I have one about Vanilla Ice called Choco/vanilla swirl. It's about the watergate scandal and how it effected modern geopolitical relationships.

Post it.

 

[Rand /pol/]

Chances are someone in my family fought and maybe died in WW1 and I don't even know their name

 

[Some Manajerk]

We were going through my grandmothers stuff after she passed away, and turns out my Great grandfather was an officer in the Canadian army. SO we have British field manuals, frontline maps of the trenches, even records of when and where he was wounded. its really amazing stuff and makes me sad to think how much history from people back then wasn't lost by anything big, but perhaps just from sitting in an attic until time simply turned it to dust.

 

[Applejack]

Post it.

"In a time before refrain, in a time before defeat, my sphincter was a tightly clinched Lil boy pucci..…,"

 

[RealtreeByGod]

WE WUZ POILUS AND SHEET

 

[millais]

No more brother wars

 

[AF 802]

race war 1488 now

 

[Trilby]

I remember this being recited by Linus in the 1983 special "What Have We Learned, Charlie Brown", it really bought out the tears for me hearing it then and now.

 

[Zaragoza]

 

[Daughter of Cernunnos]

I memorized this poem due to going to school in Canada (author was a Canadian) but it's not my favourite WW1 poem. I feel it glorifies bourgeois war and my favourite poem on WW1 is Dulce et Decorum est. I feel it properly shows the horror of war without trying to justify the senseless deaths of countless young men as for a "greater purpose" like In Flanders Fields tries to.

The text presents a vignette from the front lines of World War I; specifically, of British soldiers attacked with chlorine gas. In the rush when the shells with poison gas explode, one soldier is unable to get his mask on in time. The speaker of the poem describes the gruesome effects of the gas on the man and concludes that, if one were to see first-hand the reality of war, one might not repeat mendacious platitudes like dulce et decorum est pro patria mori: "How sweet and honourable it is to die for one's country."

Spoiler: Full poem Dulce et Decorum Est

Dulce et Decorum Est
By Wilfred Owen
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.—
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Notes:
Latin phrase is from the Roman poet Horace: “It is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country.”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dulce_et_Decorum_est
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46560/dulce-et-decorum-est