FLANDERS FIELD REVISITED Nov 11, 1918 By Robert Hewett Sr.
VETERANS DAY NOVEMBER 11, 95 YEARS AGO
FLANDERS FIELD, BELGIUM
With all that has happened since 1918 we tend to forget about the first war to end all wars when the Allies beat the Kaiser and our troops came home victorious to music, honor and appreciation. Many, if not most, went back to the family farm. The migration west to California and the range lands in between continued. But what about those left behind on foreign soil. That was tough fighting in those days and the enemy used deadly gas along with artillery to cause death and injury to the Allied troops. My father was gassed and injured by shrapnel as he tried to put a gas mask on his foxhole buddy, who was severely wounded. Those injuries stayed with him for a lifetime. That was in the Argonne Forest with the 36th Infantry Division. The 91st (Rainbow) Division and the 37th Division were heavily involved in liberating Belgium from October 31st 1918 to November 11, 1918, when the Armistice Agreement was signed. In beautiful Belgium, about 40 miles west of Brussels lies Flanders Field, the only American military cemetery in Belgium. There are 368 American servicemen buried there. No one dreamed that we would be back in Europe fighting a Second World War in less than 25 years. Below is a link to a short video of Flanders Field, published by the American Battle Monuments Commission.
November 11, just a few days from now we will celebrate Veterans Day commemorating the end of WWI on November 11, 1918. Take a few moments and thank God and America for helping to see that Europe and the world remained free.
In Flanders Field
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 field.
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 field.
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