I am Canadian. Therefore, while people have been learning about the United States history I have been learning about my Canadian history. While some people describe Canada as being the “playground” of the United States, I call it home. Therefore, while American were re-capturing the Civil War in dramatizations in the South or marching in parades during Memorial Day, Canadians opened their ears to a poem.
This poem unlike Rupert Brookes does not glorify the war. This poem does portray war as honorable. Rather, this poem tells us that people have died. This poem describes that once a soldier died, another one would take his place. This poem stirs up tears in our eyes, crushes our hearts, and makes us want to fight. Therefore, while Rupert Brookes did not write this poem, it was a form of propaganda. This poem is called In Flanders Field.
by John McCrae, May 1915
“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.”
After reading the poem The Soldier by Rupert Brooke, I reflected on the poem In Flanders Field because I felt that In Flanders Field was probably also a type of propaganda during World War I. Moreover, I find that the overall, writing is similar, along with the message it brings forth. For those how have not heard of Rupert Brooke or his poem Soldier I wrote the poem below.
“If I should die, think only this of me:
There’s some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concel’d;
A dust who England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England’s, breathing English air.
Wash’d by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Give somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven”
The Soldier and In Flanders Field, both represent soldiers fighting a war. In Flanders Field poem, it describes how the poppies that grow over the graves of the soldiers will always remind us of the soldiers who lost their lives for us. Similar to McCrae’s, Brooke’s poem describes a British soldier’s grave in an unknown territory that will always be marked by England. Although Brooke’s poem displays that fighting war is courage’s, I find McCrae’s poem describing that we have started this bloodshed and now we must fight the war that other soldiers have fallen too. One main difference is that In Flanders Field, I find that the poetry places guilt upon others while Brooke’s poem display only heroism for the persons death and no regrets. Overall, In Flanders Field is my Rupert Brooke’s poem.
So, while Americans will reminisce as their watching the Memorial Day parade or the British professors might open up a Rupert Brooke poem to read to their students about their heritage, I will be placing a poppy on my shirt and visiting my grandfather. I will sit and chitchat about his days in the war. I will listen intently to how he meets grandma. And I will hold back the tears about the people he loved who died.
While I have not seen first hand the tragedy of war, the poem, In Flanders Field brings tears to my face every time I read it. My emotions are probably similar to those in Britain who reminisce about Rupert Brooke’s poems. So although, I know this blog does not include interesting news articles or military blogs about what is currently occurring in Iraq, it does include historical poetry of past wars.
Now we are in a new war, and although I’m writing about McCrae the next generation will be writing about a new person perhaps fighting in Iraq or Afghanistan today. Moreover, the person writing about the next poet will find similarities and differences from the past previous poetry, but must of all they will have the same watery tears and tight throat that I had while trying to write this.