Lest we Forget

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. - John McCrae	Reply to Flanders Fields Oh! sleep in peace where poppies grow; The torch your falling hands let go Was caught by us, again held high, A beacon light in Flanders sky That dims the stars to those below. You are our dead, you held the foe, And ere the poppies cease to blow, We'll prove our faith in you who lie In Flanders Fields. Oh! rest in peace, we quickly go To you who bravely died, and know In other fields was heard the cry, For freedom's cause, of you who lie, So still asleep where poppies grow, In Flanders Fields. As in rumbling sound, to and fro, The lightning flashes, sky aglow, The mighty hosts appear, and high Above the din of battle cry, Scarce heard amidst the guns below, Are fearless hearts who fight the foe, And guard the place where poppies grow. Oh! sleep in peace, all you who lie In Flanders Fields. And still the poppies gently blow, Between the crosses, row on row. The larks, still bravely soaring high, Are singing now their lullaby To you who sleep where poppies grow In Flanders Fields. - John Mitchell
Just a Common Soldier (A Soldier Died Today) by A. Lawrence Vaincourt He was getting old and paunchy and his hair was falling fast, And he sat around the Legion, telling stories of the past. Of a war that he had fought in and the deeds that he had done, In his exploits with his buddies; they were heroes, every one. And tho' sometimes, to his neighbors, his tales became a joke, All his Legion buddies listened, for they knew whereof he spoke. But we'll hear his tales no longer for old Bill has passed away, And the world's a little poorer, for a soldier died today. He will not be mourned by many, just his children and his wife, For he lived an ordinary and quite uneventful life. Held a job and raised a family, quietly going his own way, And the world won't note his passing, though a soldier died today. When politicians leave this earth, their bodies lie in state, While thousands note their passing and proclaim that they were great. Papers tell their whole life stories, from the time that they were young, But the passing of a soldier goes unnoticed and unsung. Is the greatest contribution to the welfare of our land A guy who breaks his promises and cons his fellow man? Or the ordinary fellow who, in times of war and strife, Goes off to serve his Country and offers up his life? A politician's stipend and the style in which he lives Are sometimes disproportionate to the service that he gives. While the ordinary soldier, who offered up his all, Is paid off with a medal and perhaps, a pension small. It's so easy to forget them for it was so long ago, That the old Bills of our Country went to battle, but we know It was not the politicians, with their compromise and ploys, Who won for us the freedom that our Country now enjoys. Should you find yourself in danger, with your enemies at hand, Would you want a politician with his ever-shifting stand? Or would you prefer a soldier, who has sworn to defend His home, his kin and Country and would fight until the end? He was just a common soldier and his ranks are growing thin, But his presence should remind us we may need his like again. For when countries are in conflict, then we find the soldier's part Is to clean up all the troubles that the politicians start. If we cannot do him honour while he's here to hear the praise, Then at least let's give him homage at the ending of his days. Perhaps just a simple headline in a paper that would say, Our Country is in mourning, for a soldier died today.	FINAL INSPECTION (Author unknown) The Soldier stood and faced God Which must always come to pass He hoped his shoes were shining Just as bright as his brass. "Step forward you Soldier, How shall I deal with you? Have you always turned the other cheek? To My Church have you been true?" The Solider squared his shoulders and said "No, Lord, I guess I ain't Because those of us who carry guns Can't always be a saint. I've had to work on Sundays And at times my talk was tough, And sometimes I've been violent, Because the world is awfully rough. But, I never took a penny That wasn't mine to keep. Though I worked a lot of overtime When the bills got just to steep, And I never passed a cry for help Though at times I shook with fear, And sometimes, God forgive me, I've wept unmanly tears. I know I don't deserve a place Among the people here. They never wanted me around Except to calm their fears. If you've a place for me here, Lord, It needn't be so grand, I never expected or had too much, But if you don't, I'll understand." There was silence all around the throne Where the saints had often trod As the Soldier waited quietly, For the judgment of his God. "Step forward now, you Soldier, You've borne your burden well. Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets, You've done your time in Hell."

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Lest we Forget

Digby County War Veterans : Born or Died in Digby County.

GIVEN NAME

PICTURE

DATE PLACE BORN

DATE DIED CEMETERY PLOT #

REGIMENT

RANK

SERVICE

ASSIGNED

PARENTS

SPOUSE

SIBLINGS

CHILDREN

OBITUARY

HEADSTONE PICTURE

Some of this information was donated by the Maple Leaf Legacy Project (MLLP) http://www.mapleleaflegacy.ca/

This objective of this project is to photograph the grave stones of all Canadian soldiers who died while in service

in the 1st & 2nd WW. Most of these graves are in Europe of course but there are over 1330 in Nova Scotia.

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In Flanders Fields

Reply to Flanders Fields

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