We Must Never Forget.

Have you ever stepped away from an experience knowing that you really should know more about history. I certainly felt that way, after viewing the World War One Memorials in Belgium. On the second day of our Bruges experience, we had the opportunity to go on a Tour of Flanders and the World War One Memorials. Phillipe was our tour guide who had a great-grandfather who had lived through World War One. He was a passionate speaker who brought you back to a time I knew so little about.

Lest we forget. I was humbled as I viewed the thousands and thousands of grave markers that marked those who had died in World War One. Over 270,000 Allied Soldiers died in World War One and of those only one third had been identified. We saw so many graves that indicated only that it belonged to a soldier of WW1 and that he was known only to God. Hearing about the use of mustard and chlorine gas was devastating. The conditions that the soldiers fought under were horrendous. The Canadian soldiers are well remembered and respected in Belgium. I really wish that our children could see these war memorials and understand what these young men, many as young as 15-16 years old did for our country and the world. This generation of young men was simply obliterated.

The tour of Flanders was very moving. This experience gives you the opportunity to think and ponder about about life as we know it today. I will come to Remembrance Day with an entirely different perspective this year and definitely pause to give thanks to these many young soldiers who gave their lives in the name of freedom.

In Flanders Fields By: 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.