Armistice Day and The Forgotten Symbolism of the Poppy
The lapel poppies create awareness making the country’s mood more respectful, benefiting the sacrifices that veterans have made for us. Poppies became the symbol of the fallen due to the poem “In Flanders Fields” by Canadian Lt. Col. John McCrae. Belgium saw heavy casualties in WWI and blood red poppies eventually grew over the fields of the fallen. To commemorate a friend, McCrae wrote:
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.
Professor Moina Michael
The poem is a primary school staple in the UK and Commonwealth the way the Gettysburg Address is in the US. A professor at the University of Georgia, Moina Michael, wrote a reply to “In Flanders Fields” and made silk poppies to sell and raise funds for the wounded. The practice spread to Europe where it still thrives. In “In Flanders Fields” the fallen call to us, in “We Shall Keep the Faith” we reply:
Oh! you who sleep in Flanders Fields,
Sleep sweet – to rise anew!
We caught the torch you threw
And holding high, we keep the Faith
With All who died.
We cherish, too, the poppy red
That grows on fields where valor led;
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies,
But lends a lustre to the red
Of the flower that blooms above the dead
In Flanders Fields.
And now the Torch and Poppy Red
We wear in honor of our dead.
Fear not that ye have died for naught;
We’ll teach the lesson that ye wrought
In Flanders Fields.
In Flanders Fields we fought.
I used my 9 year old's artwork for the first and last images in this post. The pastel at the top is from his Year 1 in London. Children in the UK learn about the poppies. They know the poem. They know the significance of the red. At our school here in Houston, the 3rd and 4th graders did a choral concert of patriotic songs. But while they memorized the words, they were only told that November the 11th was the end of WWII with no other context that I can discern. What good does it do to teach children the words to “My Country Tis of Thee” (minus the final verse, "Our fathers' God, to thee," incidentally) if they have no idea what it means?
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.
“War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse. The person who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety, is a miserable creature and has no chance of being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself.” -John Stuart Mill
– who never served or saw war.
It’s not a lie; it’s an opinion. You can have your perspective, and I can have mine.
It’s a beautiful way to remember the fallen. In the Soviet Union we were taught to put poppies on the grave of unknown soldier. In Israel wild poppies symbolize fallen soldiers.
Although I am too young to remember when Armistice Day was still the official title, it has always been that in my mind. My father was a veteran of WW2 and Korea, but somehow the First World War was very real in my house. Perhaps because our next-door neighbor had flown Sopwith Camels on the Western Front in 1918, or because my Grandfather told us of his days on blockade duty in the North Sea. Whatever the cause, November 11th always brings to mind “Over There”, Sergeant York and poppies.
This year is especially poignant, as it is the first year in which there are no longer any surviving veterans of World War One. Let us not forget them, although they are all gone to their rest.
Thank you for this wonderful piece, Leslie! Your son’t art work is beautiful. I hope you’ve framed it.
I had to close crop the top pic so you couldn’t see my curtains reflected in the glass. Yes, it is framed. The bottom was the piece he made Saturday while I typed the post. I have to get a frame for it. My husband emailed from London—he loved it. He thinks we are lucky parents.
MMMXIV
In Flanders Fields, where poppies grow,
The pitter-patter of the rain
Still can’t conceal the ghostly sound
Of cheering, boots, and hooting trains.
I suspected as much. Good for you guys. Hope he wants to take some lessons at some point, if he hasn’t already begun taking them.
I can only hope this is a misprint, as World War Two ended on 3 September 1945 with the formal signing of the Japanese surrender aboard the U.S.S. Missouri in Tokyo Bay.
If it isn’t, it’s more proof of how far academic standards in this country’s schools have fallen.
clear ether
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