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Spare a Thought today.................


Bugsy
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For those millions who gave the ultimate sacrifice so that we can live our lives as we do today....

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 our foe,

To you with 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

- Col. John McCae -

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[quote user="Bugbear"]For those millions who gave the ultimate sacrifice so that we can live our lives as we do today.... 

[/quote]

The local group of ladies and gentlemen who decorate the calvaire I can see from my bedroom window gathered infront of the cross just after 9am this morning, a prayer was spoken and a hymn sung and they continued singing as they wended their way down the road back to their homes. The floral decoration and a phrase writ in flowers in the sand in front of the cross will remain there - if they follow usual practice - for a couple of weeks for anyone who passes to admire or reflect on. So simple, so heartfelt, so effective.

Sue

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I suppose the point about Armistice Day in France is that in WW1, it was the scene of unprecedented - and supremely pointless - carnage, while in WW2, it had the awfulness of 4 years of Nazi occupation. 'Allo 'Allo it probably wasn't. Certainly there is a keen sense of indebtedness here. Le Mans was liberated on 8th August 1944, but skirmishing continued nearer us to the North East on the 10th August - when a young US Lieutenant, Onias C Martin, lost his life near Bonnetable. [A local lady suggests he may have been the victim of friendly fire - an expression which, like "sympathetic detonation", conveys very little of its true import!]. Today the road into Bonnetable carries his name, regiment etc, and there is a lovely memorial, with a photo of the young man, at the roadside a few kilometres out of town. Well-maintained all year, on the anniversary of his death there are fresh flowers and the French and US flags fly over the memorial. Not bad for a foreigner who died before most of us were born!
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I think this is also extremely significant:

LEST WE FORGET

Why are they selling poppies Mother?

selling poppies in town today?

The poppies, child, are the flowers of love

for the men who marched away.

But why have they chosen a poppy, Mother?

why not a beautiful rose?

Because, my child, men fought and died

in the fields where the poppy grows.

But why are the poppies so red, Mother?

why are the poppies so red?

Red is the colour of blood, my child,

the blood that our soldiers shed.

The heart of the poppy is black, Mother

why does it have to be black?

Black, my child, is a symbol of grief

for the men who never came back.

But why, Mother dear, are you crying so?

your tears are like winter rain.

My tears are my fears for you, my child

FOR THE WORLD IS FORGETTING AGAIN.

Taken from the magazine of the Rats of Tobruk Association

We shall be joining the commemoration in our village tomorrow

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I hope this uploads - it is of my daughter Cj at the Evesham War Memorial - as a Sea Cadet she was'on duty' with her rifle at the corner post, along with others, each placed at another corner. For a young lass she took her part well. We are proud of her.

Thanks Krusty for the help - I don't think I've sussed out the sizing thing yet, but hey, I can now upload pics!

[IMG]http://i436.photobucket.com/albums/qq82/keni1954/04112008175.jpg[/IMG]

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Thanks,

Although she suffers from epilepsy, she has never let anything stand in her way - now an instructor at sea cadets, she has  been taught everything from powerboating to drill. As a disability, it has not stopped her.

The OH and his brother are in Flanders today - they have been at the Menin Gate for the ceremony.

I must ask you about this sizing thing though...

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I normally go to our village cenotaph every year (missed it once when ill) to pay my respects. We don't have a band so its a getto blaster and tape job. Every year without fail we have a group of local children from the village primary school read a poem. Knowing that there are other Brits in the village and only one other ever bothers I find a bit disappointing although the other person and I always get a warm welcome. Both my grandfathers were in the great war, both were casualties and died of their wounds many years later, without their sacrifice I would not be here.

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