"Please wear a poppy," the lady said

And held one forth, but I shook my head.

Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,

And her face was old and lined with care;

But beneath the scars the years had made

There remained a smile that refused to fade.

A boy came whistling down the street,

Bouncing along on care-free feet.

His smile was full of joy and fun,

"Lady," said he, "may I have one?"

When she's pinned in on he turned to say,

"Why do we wear a poppy today?"

The lady smiled in her wistful way

And answered, "This is Remembrance Day,

And the poppy there is the symbol for

The gallant men who died in war.

And because they did, you and I are free -

That's why we wear a poppy, you see.

"I had a boy about your size,

With golden hair and big blue eyes.

He loved to play and jump and shout,

Free as a bird he would race about.

As the years went by he learned and grew

and became a man - as you will, too.

"He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,

But he'd seemed with us such a little while

When war broke out and he went away.

I still remember his face that day

When he smiled at me and said, Goodbye,

I'll be back soon, Mom, so please don't cry.

"But the war went on and he had to stay,

And all I could do was wait and pray.

His letters told of the awful fight,

(I can see it still in my dreams at night),

With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire,

And the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire.

"Till at last, at last, the war was won -

And that's why we wear a poppy son."

The small boy turned as if to go,

Then said, "Thanks, lady, I'm glad to know.

That sure did sound like an awful fight,

But your son - did he come back all right?"

A tear rolled down each faded check;

She shook her head, but didn't speak.

I slunk away in a sort of shame,

And if you were me you'd have done the same;

For our thanks, in giving, if oft delayed,

Thought our freedom was bought - and thousands paid!

And so when we see a poppy worn,

Let us reflect on the burden borne,

By those who gave their very all

When asked to answer their country's call

That we at home in peace might live.

Then wear a poppy! Remember - and give!

Lovely poem Dave... Thank you.

if we forget history, we will repeat it

at the going down of the sun

WE WILL REMEMBER THEM

For The Fallen - Robert Laurence Binyon

--------------------------------------------

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,

England mourns for her dead across the sea.

Flesh of her flesh they were , spirit of her spirit,

Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal

Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,

There is music in the midst of desolation

And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,

Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them. We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;

They sit no more at familiar tables of home;

They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;

They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,

Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,

To the innermost heart of their own land they are known

As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,

Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;

As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,

To the end, to the end, they remain.

Yes Dave-we are awaiting the delivery to Cag House,and will duly brighten up the AVs

Yes Dave-we are awaiting the delivery to Cag House,and will duly brighten up the AVs

What Martin means is....

Will the Site Team be changing their avatars as a mark of respect like last year...

Yes Dave-we are awaiting the delivery to Cag House,and will duly brighten up the AVs

ahem....yes thank you.***done***

Just BUMPING as it's Remembrance Sunday on (errr) Sunday!

Dave i know the Laurence Binyon poem as i use it a lot all the year but especially now but I dont know the other where did it come from would like to know as its great and i can use it with the Kids

At the time of posting it was just a random Google search, but after a bit of a

look around i've found where it came from.....

 

WHY WEAR A POPPY

 

Handwritten in pencil, and on two sheets of foolscap, Don Crawford turned

this poem in to the The Perth Courier one morning in the early 1960s,

where it first saw print a few days later. For the next several years, and

by means unknown, “Why Wear A Poppy” appeared in nearly every weekly

newspaper and magazine, including LEGION, in Canada at Remembrance

time, as well as foreign publications like Australia’s Anzac Appeal and

Scotland’s Claymore magazine, copies of the same being sent to him. Some

years ago, Dominion Command of The Royal Canadian Legion, produced it

on slides and tape for television and radio.

 

Schools have used it extensively for their Remembrance programs.

Donald J. Crawford died in hospital at Perth on Saturday, October 7, 2000.

So, to give it its Proper Title and the Credit and Respect that it deserves...

WHY WEAR A POPPY

By Don Crawford.

“Please wear a poppy,” the lady said

And held one forth, but I shook my head.

Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,

And her face was old and lined with care;

But beneath the scars the years had made

There remained a smile that refused to fade.

A boy came whistling down the street,

Bouncing along on care-free feet.

His smile was full of joy and fun,

“Lady”, said he, “may I have one?”

When she’d pinned it on he turned to say,

“Why do we wear a poppy today?”

The lady smiled in her wistful way

And answered, “This is Remembrance Day,

And the poppy there is the symbol for

The gallant men who died in war.

And because they did, you and I are free –

That’s why we were a poppy, you see.

“I had a boy about your size,

With golden hair and big blue eyes.

He loved to play and jump and shout,

Free as a bird he would race about.

As the years went by he learned and grew

And became a man – as you will, too.

“He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,

But he seemed with us such a little while

When war broke out and he went away.

I still remember his face that day

When he smiled at me and said, ‘Goodbye,

I’ll be back soon, Mom, so please don’t cry.’

“But the war went on and he had to stay,

And all I could do was wait and pray.

His letters told of the awful fight

(I can see it still in my dreams at night),

With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire,

And the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire.

“Till at last, at last, the war was won –

And that’s why we wear a poppy, son.”

The small boy turned as if to go,

Then said, “Thanks, lady, I’m glad to know.

That sure did sound like an awful fight,

but your son – did he come back all right?”

A tear rolled down each faded cheek:

She shook her head, but didn’t speak.

I slunk away in a sort of shame,

And if you were me you’d have done the same;

For our thanks, in giving, is oft-delayed,

Though our freedom was bought – and thousands paid!

And so when we see a poppy worn,

Let us reflect on the burden borne

By those who gave their very all

When asked to answer their country’s call

That we, in peace, may see the sun.

Please wear a poppy, it says: “Well done.”

Thanks will be using it tomorrow when we break from rehersals at 11.00

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them. We will remember them.

I lost my Dad to cancer, in January 2004. One of the last things he asked

me to do for him was to never forget these 3 boys that he found whilst

paying tribute to a family member.

As we get older, we form different priorities...

DMD

Do you know the story behind these 3 graves - I tried to find something through google but no luck.

Cheers

I was in France recently and visited one of the graveyards for each of the British (Bayeux), Americans (Colleville sur Mer) and German (Husines Sur Mer) - all very moving. At least the Brits and Americans can be very proud and grateful to their war dead - the German cemetery held 12000 in the space of a football pitch and was very very sad.

Boy. M. Carson - 5th June 1921 - Aged 18

Boy. C.A. Chapman - 5th Jne 1921 - Aged 17

Boy. J. Cooper - 5th June 1921 - Aged 16

Of The Manchester Regiment...

Murdered in County Cork Ireland on the 5th of June 1921 by the I.R.A.

Edit: I should have said that this grave is at Hurst Cemetery in Ashton Under Lyne.