2012 Memorial Day Remembrances and the Poem "In Flanders Fields"

My Memorial Day post from last year has had several hundred visitors and is my most popular. In case you missed it, here's a repost of the text:

On this Memorial Day please join me in remembering those who died serving our country.


I am remembering two friends of my youth who lost their lives in Vietnam.

James Donnelly, a classmate at Most Holy Name of Jesus School in North St. Louis, took me to the eighth-grade dance on the S.S. Admiral, and bought me my first corsage (pink and white carnations). The eighth-grade dance in 1962 was my first "official" date where a boy asked me to go out. Six years later James lost his life while serving as an Army soldier in Vietnam.

Mike Blassie was my escort to the St. Alphonsus (Rock) High School senior prom. Rock High was an all-girls' school, so we invited the boys--and Mike graciously accepted my invitation. That night he talked about how excited he was to be going to the Air Force Academy after graduation. First Lieutenant Michael Blassie's remains rested, for a time, in the Tomb of the Unknowns in Arlington National Cemetery before being returned to St. Louis in July, 1998.

Please take time today to remember James and Michael, along with all the fallen who gave their "last full measure of devotion" while serving our country.

If you've ever wondered the connection between the red poppies you see on sale around Memorial Day, read "In Flanders Field," the poem by Canadian Army Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae. The link to the Arlington National Cemetery also has an explanation about the writing of "In Flanders Field."

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.



Memorial Day Remembrances and In Flanders Field Poem

On this Memorial Day please join me in remembering those who died serving our country.

I am remembering two friends of my youth who lost their lives in Vietnam.

James Donnelly, a classmate at Most Holy Name of Jesus School in North St. Louis, took me to the eighth-grade dance on the S.S. Admiral, and bought me my first corsage (pink and white carnations). The eighth-grade dance in 1962 was my first "official" date where a boy asked me to go out. Six years later James lost his life while serving as an Army soldier in Vietnam.

Mike Blassie was my escort to the St. Alphonsus (Rock) High School senior prom. Rock High was an all-girls' school, so we invited the boys--and Mike graciously accepted my invitation. That night he talked about how excited he was to be going to the Air Force Academy after graduation. First Lieutenant Michael Blassie's remains rested, for a time, in the Tomb of the Unknowns in Arlington National Cemetery before being returned to St. Louis in July, 1998.

Please take time today to remember James and Michael, along with all the fallen who gave their "last full measure of devotion" while serving our country.

If you've ever wondered the connection between the red poppies you see on sale around Memorial Day, read "In Flanders Field," the poem by Canadian Army Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae. The link to the Arlington National Cemetery also has an explanation about the writing of In Flanders Field.

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.

Memorial Day - A Time to Remember

During the Saturday Writers open mic meeting on May 29, Jerrel Swingle read an essay that moved most of the roughly 30 attendees to tears. Before reading his piece, Jerry began with the quote "We who are left to die salute you." That phrase rang a bell, so when I got home I researched and discovered it was what gladiators said (in Latin) before entering the arena--it's probably familiar from reading about Caesar in high school Latin class.

Back to Jerry's essay. He described an encounter with an elderly veteran selling red buddy poppies in front of a supermarket. His poignant essay was also a tribute to those who have died in any war or who've came back from war broken, damaged, or changed.

Jerry spoke of the history of the buddy poppies after World War I, "the war to end all wars," and wove in the poem "In Flander's Field," written by Col. John McCrae of Canada. The poem describes blowing red fields among the battleground of the fallen.


In Flander's Field

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.

On this Memorial Day I remember young men from my youth who, in the words of President Lincoln during the Gettysburg Address, gave their "last measure of devotion," fighting for their country. From the City of St. Louis, Missouri, the names of 260 men are on the walls of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. Here are four I knew:

James Donnelly, a classmate at Most Holy Name of Jesus School in North St. Louis, Missouri, was a shy, smart, and handsome boy with dark hair and dark eyes. He took me to Holy Name's eighth grade dance in 1962 on the steamship Admiral on the Mississippi River. Jim gave me my first corsage. He died in 1968 as an Army soldier in Vietnam.

William June was also a classmate at Holy Name and grew up in our North St. Louis neighborhood.

Ron Imperiali, a friend of my sister Kathleen, grew up in our North St. Louis neighborhood.

Michael Blassie was my date for the St. Alphonsus (Rock) senior prom in 1966. He went on to graduate from the U.S. Air Force Academy and was sent to Vietnam. In 1972 he was declared MIA then KIA after his plane was shot down. His remains were buried for several years in the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier until DNA proved the remains were his. His remains were returned home for burial in 1998. My husband Walt (also an Air Force Vietnam veteran) and I attended the ceremony at Jefferson Barracks.

Eternal rest grant them, Oh Lord, and let the perpetual light shine upon them.