This is the story of how the red field poppy became the international symbol of Remembrance. From its association with the poppies flowering in the spring of 1915 on the battlefields of Belgium, France, and Gallipoli this vivid red flower has become synonymous with great loss of life in war. Yet the scope of the poppy and its connection with the memory of those who have died in war has been expanded to help the living too. It was the inspiration and dedication of women who promoted the “Memorial Flower” as a way to raise funds to support those in need of help, most especially service members and civilians suffering from physical and mental hardship as a result of war.
World War I created a wasteland of churned soil, smashed woods, fields and streams. Few elements of the natural world could survive except the soldiers who lived in an underground network of holes, tunnels and trenches. The only living things they would see on the front lines were scavenging rats, mice, and lice.
However, sometimes the sights and sounds of nature could be seen and heard through the fog of battle. Soldiers spoke of birds, particularly the lark, heard twittering high in the sky even during the fury of an artillery bombardment.
In the Belgian region of Flanders, the spring of 1915 was unusually warm for the millions of soldiers huddled in trenches and tunnels after the cold winter and growing in clusters here and there around the battle zones was the red poppy. The sight of these delicate, vibrant red flowers growing on the shattered ground caught the attention of a Canadian soldier by the name of Major John McCrae.
He noticed how poppies magically sprung up in the disturbed ground of the graves of this artillery position. He sat and composed a poem remembering the death of his best friend, Lt. Alexis Helmer. The first lines of the poem have become some of the most famous lines written in relation to the First World War, and are the inspiration for the Remembrance Poppy.
In Flanders Fields by John McCrae, May 1915
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.
Adapted by James Patsalides, Ph.D., associate professor of business management at Albertus Magnus College, from the website greatwar.co.uk.
Read by Professor Patsalides at a past Albertus Magnus College Veterans Day event.