Lest We Forget

November 11, 2010. There are troop serving in Iraq and Afghanistan, South Korea and other spots in the world that cannot, or should not be talked about for security reasons. In many cases, these soldiers are serving because they feel a certain desire to serve their country, yet their country, whether the UK, Canada, the United States or Germany, have let them down. Instead of supporting them, they are left high and dry, either when they come off active duty by not covering their medical costs, not providing adequate compensation for duty served and certainly doing little more than saying thanks, and do not let the door hit you on the way out.

The troops in the field today are not, generally, conducting the same mission that their fathers or grandfathers were. But this is not their choice. This is the choice of politicians, putting them in harms way with little end game in mind, no exit strategy and no real goal. You cannot defeat an ism, not with soldiers, not with bullets, and not with shock and awe. The war against terrorism will not be won by sacrificing a generation of soldiers.

On November 11, we are supposed to remember the sacrifice of those that really did die, defending our way of life against a tyranny of oppression and of evil. And we should also remember those who have been thrown into the meat grinder over little more than rhetoric. We should also be fighting for the cessation of hostilities when those hostilities really do not make sense.

At 11 AM, pause a moment to remember those who have given all, because they felt they were fighting for something more than themselves. And then do all you can to support them and bring them home.

In Flanders Fields

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

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.