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.

John McCrae

 

Day After Day: the Woman Vet

“I discovered this poem…awhile ago.  I believe it touches the soul of women everywhere.  What great courage it takes for a woman to willing go into battle.  The scope of war for her so unique.”

hey ricki 3

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Day after day they ask me
“Why do you go away?
What makes you leave your family?
I think that you should stay.

My child who’s standing at the door
Clutching Daddy’s hand so
Pleads again with choking voice
“Mommy, please don’t go.”

For me, I must answer them,
I need for them to know.
It is not for fame or glory
Or riches that I go.

I go for each of you,
For all that have a son,
For all that have a daughter
Or a special loved one.

I go that when they hurt,
Or harm’s bullet has settled deep
Someone will be there for them,
To ease them as they sleep

I go to hold them as they die,
In some deserted place
To listen to their last goodbye
And still their troubled face.

I go because you can not go
And hold them when in fear
And soothe the troubled brow
As they cry for home so dear.

So when you see me pack my bags
And leave for lands so far away,
It is not hardness of the heart
Or mother’s conscience gone astray
Its for love of country, freedom,
Duty and honor too,
But most of all I go
To bring them back to you.

Capt. Cheryl Lockhart, USAFR, NC 914th Aeromedical Evacuation Squadron