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."

Thank you for your sacrifice and service on my behalf.