In Flanders Field

[RadyLady]

Throughout my childhood and young adulthood, I went to the Memorial Day parades sponsored by my town - a few years here and there I even marched in them with the girl scouts and eventually as a member of the Ellington High School Marching Band. At the end of the parade, there was as part of a memorial ceremony a poem read by a youth - the poem is called 'In Flanders Field'. As with much of my youth, the impact of the day and meaning behind the words of the poem was lost behind the excitement of the parade, the cookouts and the promise of summer. The poem was written not by an American nor in America, but by a Canadian medical officer during WW1 who was stationed in Europe. It is, IMO, part lament and part war cry with a very musical flow to the words. I honor the men and women who defend, and have defended this country today and everyday, and post this poem whose meaning now I comprehend.

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.

 

[msf22b]

Rady:
Do you know the wonderful Ives' setting, 1919?

not a great performance but gives you an idea of how the piece goes and the music is supplied.

 

[RadyLady]

Hi,
Thanks for the link. I have only just started to research musical settings to this poem. I am hoping that Vaughn Williams set the poem to music because the flow of the poem is such a match to his musical style.

 

[CL82]

I prefer this version:



I find it very moving and more consistent with the tone of the poem. JMO

 

[Zorro]

I. NAMING OF PARTS Henry Reed, 1942

To-day we have naming of parts. Yesterday,
We had daily cleaning. And to-morrow morning,
We shall have what to do after firing. But to-day,
To-day we have naming of parts. Japonica
Glistens like coral in all of the neighboring gardens,
And to-day we have naming of parts.

This is the lower sling swivel. And this
Is the upper sling swivel, whose use you will see,
When you are given your slings. And this is the piling swivel,
Which in your case you have not got. The branches
Hold in the gardens their silent, eloquent gestures,
Which in our case we have not got.

This is the safety-catch, which is always released
With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me
See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy
If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms
Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see
Any of them using their finger.

And this you can see is the bolt. The purpose of this
Is to open the breech, as you see. We can slide it
Rapidly backwards and forwards: we call this
Easing the spring. And rapidly backwards and forwards
The early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers:
They call it easing the Spring.

They call it easing the Spring: it is perfectly easy
If you have any strength in your thumb: like the bolt,
And the breech, and the cocking-piece, and the point of balance,
Which in our case we have not got; and the almond-blossom
Silent in all of the gardens and the bees going backwards and forwards,
For to-day we have naming of parts.

 

[RadyLady]

I prefer this version:



I find it very moving and more consistent with the tone of the poem. JMO

My friend one man's ceiling is another man's floor.
Who is the composer/arranger of this setting? It appears to be within the stylistic musical time frame of the actual written poem, but I cannot be sure. In keeping with my first thought of this post you must know that some find the Charles Ives setting more fitting to their needs whilst others might find the same of yours.

Sent from my SGH-T769 using Tapatalk 2

 

[CL82]

My friend one man's ceiling is another man's floor.
Who is the composer/arranger of this setting? It appears to be within the stylistic musical time frame of the actual written poem, but I cannot be sure. In keeping with my first thought of this post you must know that some find the Charles Ives setting more fitting to their needs whilst others might find the same of yours.

Sent from my SGH-T769 using Tapatalk 2

There's some info at the end in the credits that might help.

Fully agree that the preference is subjective. I just really enjoy the poem with this arrangement, so I thought that I'd share it with you. Wistful and poignant, it just seems to frame the subject matter perfectly.

 

[ChicagoGG]

Rady, thanks for posting the poem. It always brings a lump to my throat. May all of those who have fallen rest in peace.

 

[doggydaddy]

I had to memorize this poem in 7th grade. Still can recite it 47 years later.

 

[zakalex]

I had to memorize this poem in 7th grade. Still can recite it 47 years later.

I also had to memorize this poem in 7th grade and was chosen to recite it at an assembly. And I can still recite it 56! years later. You didn't happen to go to Talcott Jr High in West Htfd, did you? It was a hotbed of poem memorization back then.

 

[doggydaddy]

I also had to memorize this poem in 7th grade and was chosen to recite it at an assembly. And I can still recite it 56! years later. You didn't happen to go to Talcott Jr High in West Htfd, did you? It was a hotbed of poem memorization back then.

Nope. Fair Lawn, New Jersey. Thomas Jefferson junior high.

 

[Creaky]

Interesting to note that McCrae wrote “In Flanders Fields” very early in WWI, and that the third stanza, so obviously and famously different in tone from the first two, was a conscious argument against a negotiated end to the war, an idea that in Britain was very much in the air at the time, given the decimation of its professional army in the fall of 1914 and the staggering slaughter of new citizen soldiers at Ypres in early 1915. So the poem is often considered primarily a spectacularly successful bit of propaganda.

The wonderful Reed poem above (“...and the point of balance, Which in our case we have not got...”), of WWII vintage, reminded me of the one below, by Richard Eberhart, who was assigned as a WWII naval officer to teach gunnery. I think it’s a great Memorial Day poem. It is literally in memoriam.

The Fury of Aerial Bombardment

You would think the fury of aerial bombardment
Would rouse God to relent; the infinite spaces
Are still silent. He looks on shock-pried faces.
History, even, does not know what is meant.

You would feel that after so many centuries
God would give man to repent; yet he can kill
As Cain could, but with multitudinous will,
No farther advanced than in his ancient furies

Was man made stupid to see his own stupidity?
Is God by definition indifferent, beyond us all?
Is the eternal truth man's fighting soul
Wherein the Beast ravens in its own avidity?

Of Van Wettering I speak, and Averill,
Names on a list, whose faces I do not recall
But they are gone to early death, who late in school
Distinguished the belt feed lever from the belt holding pawl.

 

[RadyLady]

Since this thread seems to tilt between folks reminiscing their own memories of Flanders or posting more poetry, let me add another favorite:

'Dirge for Two Veterans' from Whitmans Fields of Grass is a wonderfully descriptive poem about the procession and burial of a father and son lost to war. I include a setting of this poem by Vaughn Williams (surprise) for chorus and orchestra from his bigger work, 'Dona Nobis Pacem' in this link. Though not a memorial per se, I believe it to be poignant and appropriate for honoring our folks who serve and have served in the armed forces...Vaughn Williams uses the text to paint a sad, beautiful picture with the orchestra. This is one of my very favorite choral/orchestral pieces

Dirge for Two Veterans
by Walt Whitman
(1819-1892)

The last sunbeam
Lightly falls from the finish'd Sabbath,
On the pavement here, and there beyond it is looking,
Down a new-made double grave.
Lo, the moon ascending,
Up from the east the silvery round moon,
Beautiful over the house-tops, ghastly, phantom moon,
Immense and silent moon.
I see a sad procession,
And I hear the sound of coming full-key'd bugles,
All the channels of the city streets they're flooding,
As with voices and with tears.
I hear the great drums pounding,
And the small drums steady whirring,
And every blow of the great convulsive drums,
Strikes me through and through.
For the son is brought with the father,
(In the foremost ranks of the fierce assault they fell,
Two veterans son and father dropt together,
And the double grave awaits them.)
Now nearer blow the bugles,
And the drums strike more convulsive,
And the daylight o'er the pavement quite has faded,
And the strong dead-march enwraps me.
In the eastern sky up-buoying,
The sorrowful vast phantom moves illumin'd,
('Tis some mother's large transparent face,
In heaven brighter growing.)
O strong dead-march you please me!
O moon immense with your silvery face you soothe me!
O my soldiers twain! O my veterans passing to burial!
What I have I also give you.
The moon gives you light,
And the bugles and the drums give you music,
And my heart, O my soldiers, my veterans,
My heart gives you love

 

[Zorro]

And, as Yossarian asked, "Where are the Snowdens of yesteryesr?" Best wishes to all the vets.