There are not enough Thanks we can give to so many people that served, many lived through what I imagine would be hell on earth, some made it back home, many did not. They made the ultimate sacrifice, so that we have the freedom we have today. Here is the Flanders field poem written by a Canadian soldier, the reason we wear the poppy.
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.
