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.

- Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

Colonel McCrae died of pneumonia he contracted while sleeping year round in a tent, eschewing the huts his fellow officers lived in, as a show of solidarity for his comrades on the front. He wrote Flanders Fields after 17 hellacious days in an aid station at the second battle of Ypres in 1915. 69,000 Allied troops died during month long battle.