In Flanders Fields

Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red installation at the Tower of London in 2014. Photograph, iStock Photos.

For Memorial Day this year, I have been in Britain, in Cornwall — with my daughter and with friends who live here. They have a ceramic poppy in their garden, in a pot on their terrace, and I asked about it — since I think of poppies and Memorial Day in the USA.

Ceramic poppies for the 2014 installation around the Tower of London. Photograph, Shutterstock.

It came from the Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red — an installation at the Tower of London in 2014. I knew nothing about this, and was so struck with the pictures our friends showed us. The installation is a joint project between  ceramic artist Paul Cummins and stage designer Tom Piper. With the help of volunteers, they placed 888,246 poppies in the moats around the Tower of London to represent the British casualties in World War I.

While I obviously realize that our Memorial Day is about the service of the American military, this memorial to the dead of our close allies is one of the most visually chilling I’ve seen, and for me, an appropriate visual for the remembrance of the people who have served our country — in terms of thinking of the numbers who gave their lives.

In Flanders Fields

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.
—– by John McCrae, May 1915

888,246 poppies in the moats around the Tower of London to represent the British casualties in World War I. Photograph, iStock Photos.

And one more from an unknown soldier from World War One who wrote the poem before he went over the top of the trenches into ”no mans land.”

The Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red

The blood swept lands and seas of red,
Where angels dare to tread.
As I put my hand to reach,
As God cried a tear of pain as the angels fell,
Again and again.
As the tears of mine fell to the ground,
To sleep with the flowers of red,
As any be dead.
My children see and work through fields
of my own with corn and wheat,
Blessed by love so far from pain of my resting
Fields so far from my love.
It be time to put my hand up and end this pain
Of living hell, to see the people around me
Fall someone angel as the mist falls around,
And the rain so thick with black
thunder I hear
Over the clouds, to sleep forever and kiss
The flower of my people gone before time
To sleep and cry no more.
I put my hand up and see the land of red,
This is my time to go over,
I may not come back So sleep, kiss the boys for me.

Ann Fisher

Writer, traveler, and cancer fighter. Get out there and live life!

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2 thoughts on “In Flanders Fields

  1. Browsing the Atlas May 27, 2018 at 6:30 pm

    A Belgian friend of mine keeps encouraging me to visit Flanders Field. Your post really inspired me to make sure I do on a future trip to Belgium.

    Reply
    1. Ann May 28, 2018 at 2:07 am

      It’s something I’d like to do, the next time I’m in Belgium.

      Reply

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