Today VFW Post 1 marked a very special day - the 100th Anniversary of the End of World War 1. WWI laid the foundation for WWII,subsequent Wars in Asia and the Cold War. It defined the World as we know it and scarred a generation of valiant who went off to fight. Today VFW 1 marks this solemn occasion at the Denver Botanic Gardens with a display of 100 blown glass poppies.
Today Veterans Day is a day in which we should celebrate all who have served yet and leave Memorial Day for remembering our fallen brothers and sisters. Yet, this specific Veterans Day - the 100th Anniversary of the Armistice which was supposed to be the War to End All Wars - has a special meaning. We have no Veterans of the Great War with us any more, only a few who happened to be born at War’s end. I vividly remember my first Scoutmaster - a WWI Veteran who went by the name GreenBar. As a young scout I had no idea what to ask him or what to say - to me he was an old guy trying to teach me morse code. “You’ll never know when you’ll need it” he would say. How I wish I could sit and converse with him now with the experience I have as a Veteran and a better understanding of what he really represents. So let’s not forget those we lose from various wars and military service overall. Let’s not wait until it’s too late. Let’s celebrate the men and women who currently and in years past wear our Nation’s uniforms. Let’s not wait until they are gone forcing us to lament the fact that we did not find out about them and their service after they have gone. With that, I leave you with John McCrae’s poem that means so much to so many of us:
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.