"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 amidst the guns below."
This poem was written in 1915, by John MacCrae, a grief-stricken man mourning his childhood friend who had died in battle that very day and was later buried by John himself.It's amazing to think how many soldiers lost their lives in that war.
If you don't already know, the First World War began when an independent group of people from Serbia who killed the heir to an empire's throne,a man who was not particularly well liked, not even by the king.
Yet the King was obligated to invade Serbia for political reasons. Unfortunately for the empire, that country had an alliance with another. The king had allies as well. To each others' dismay, the alliances they had were plentiful and war spread across the world; and all this for the death of a man who no one particularly cared for.
Is this cause, or any cause, ever be worthy of all the men who now lie dead in Flanders Fields?
"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."
Arjuna Thira is a grade 9 student at Island Pacific School who is writing articles as part of her Duke of Edinburgh award program.
