A Poem for the Dems to Study

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.

I set this poem to memory back in the 80's, but when I first heard it I was very young. So young that I associated it more with the Wizard of Oz than war. Dorothy, Toto, and the Lion fell asleep in the field of poppies, so the poem made perfect sense to me.

It was written by John McRae, a Canadian soldier and physician who who died in France in 1918, after serving four years on the western front.

Four years.

The poem will soon be 100 years old.

When young soldiers are sent into harm's way, they stand between us and our enemy, and they support a burden that only a veteran can know. When politicians vote to send young soldiers into harm's way, these politicians must stand beside them... supporting their mission... giving them encouragement and the tools they need... and defending their good name when it is slandered. To do less is unappreciative, irresponsible, and vulgar.

Today we find ourselves at war with something more insidious than a foreign army. We are at war with a cancer that has infected our world. It threatens everything we hold dear. Everything. Regardless of the reasons for invading Iraq, regardless of the current status of BinLaden... the war is... and the war is being fought in Iraq.

When a young soldier dies in this struggle, he dies for me. And I owe him for every normal day, for every word I am free to speak, and for every step and breath I take as a free man. Part of "keeping faith" with him is doing everything I can to make sure that he did not die in vain, and that his memory and the honor in his sacrifice are held high like a banner for all to see.

This is more important than our political differences. It is more important than an election.