To all who served, my deepest gratitude.
It was called Armistice Day when I was young, in celebration of the end of “The Great War” - at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month... my grandfather served in the Navy in WWI. He always gave us paper poppies for the day (unfortunately, they are not as prevalent as they used to be). A bit off topic, but in case you don’t know why they sell poppies, it was based on a poem by WWI Canadian military physician, Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae:
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.
