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.
John McCrae (1872–1918)
In memory of Private John Robert Swaysland 2905, Lewis gun section, D. Company, 9th Battalion, Australian Imperial Forces (my Great great Uncle).
Killed in Action- 23 July 1916 at the battle of the Somme.
He was wounded by bomb shrapnel and left as a hopeless case. His I.D. tags were recovered the following day.
He lays unaccounted for with 72 090 Commonwealth troops that paid the ultimate price and never came home.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
Lest we forget
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 (1872–1918)
In memory of Private John Robert Swaysland 2905, Lewis gun section, D. Company, 9th Battalion, Australian Imperial Forces (my Great great Uncle).
Killed in Action- 23 July 1916 at the battle of the Somme.
He was wounded by bomb shrapnel and left as a hopeless case. His I.D. tags were recovered the following day.
He lays unaccounted for with 72 090 Commonwealth troops that paid the ultimate price and never came home.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
Lest we forget