With Many Thanks

This is one of those times where this blog, normally reserved for Americana music, takes a moment to remember the soldiers and veterans around the world. Although it's four days after the fact, it is never too late to honor and thank the soldiers who have served their country, regardless of which country you may be reading this in.

In my native Canada, November 11 is called Remembrance Day. It's called Remembrance Day in other countries around the world, mostly in the British Commonwealth countries. In the United States, November 11 is called Veterans Day, but really, it's the same thing. At the 11th hour, of the 11th day, of the 11th month, we pause for two minutes of silence to remember and pay silent tribute to all of our wonderful soldiers who currently serve our country in various theatres around the world, and to those who have paid the ultimate sacrifice fighting for our nation in World Wars 1 and 2, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, various peacekeeping missions and currently the war in Afghanistan.

Perhaps the most popular poem that has been written about the plight of the wartime soldier was written by a Canadian physician in the Army in World War 1, Lieutenant Colonel John McRae. Believed to have been written on May 3, 1915, the day after Colonel McRae had witnessed the death of his friend, the poem was originally published in London, England on December 8, 1915. This poem has been a staple of Remembrance Day ceremonies across Canada and around the world since then. Sadly, Colonel McRae would also lose his life in the first Great War, in 1918. But what a legacy he left behind. A tremendous gift that has allowed generations of people around the world to truly recognize the sacrifice that freedom requires.

Thank you to all our veterans of wars and conflicts, both past and present. Because of your dedication, we're allowed to listen to the music we want to listen to, we're allowed to read what we want to and we're allowed to write what we want to. Please pass this important piece of literature along, 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.