In Flanders Fields

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.

Major John McCrae, 1915

I remember my first cousin, once removed Edward Raymond Blake whose plane was shot down over the Pyrenees in southern France near Marseilles the 18th of June 1940 along with the rest of the crew of the airplane; all perished.

I also remember my Uncle Edwin Denner Buller who served in France during World War I and lived with sharpnel pieces in his body the rest of his life.

As I work away on my family tree (Blake at the moment), I have found a number of cousins who made the greatest sacrifice for freedom for their home country (England) during both the first and the second world wars. May God hold them close to him.  May they never be forgotten. I have tried to find all their details from the Commonwealth Graves site to put into their story.

I also think about my 3x great grandfather George Lywood who served in the 23rd Regiment of Foot (now the Royal Welsh Guard) and was my first ancestor to touch the shores of North America when he served at Halifax in 1807.