November 11 1918

At 11 minutes past eleven the First World War ended.

We commemorate the end of four years of senseless, barbarian slaughter.

..

IN FLANDERS FIELDS

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 : Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918) Canadian Army. He wrote the poem at the Ypres front in May 1915 and died of pneumonia in Boulogne on January 28 1918.