In memoriam

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

In the 100 years before, too many were lost. In 2001, too many more were lost. Too many innocents, too many lost sons, daughters, husbands, wives, grandfathers, grandmothers, brothers and sisters. This day is for them. See you tomorrow.