Remembrance Day

In Remembrance of senseless slaughter. Will we ever learn?

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.
-- John McCrae

I have always taken issue with the last stanza of this poem, beckoning as it does to "take up our quarrel" and perpetuate, ad infinitum, endless fighting. Unfortunately, we have not broken faith and human beings have continued our murderous ways ever since. When this poem was written, World War I was described as "the war to end all wars." Conversely, and more accurately, the poem itself demands continued struggle. We all know which sentiment won out.