Poppies grew on the fields that had been destroyed by the bombs Nothing else was growing on it
In Flanders fields by John McCrae
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
John McCrae (November 30, 1872 – January 28, 1918) was a military doctor and a Major of the 1st Brigade of Canadian Field Artillery Lieutenant-Colonel
McCrae was inspired to write the poem on May 3, 1915 after presiding over the funeral of friend and fellow soldier Lieutenant Alexis Helmer, who died in the Second Battle of Ypres
