Lest We Forget

You can only remember if you survived it. In the comfort and safety of your untroubled life, you can merely imagine.

Imagine, then, those who went before, who went bravely and naïvely into battle, face to face with the enemy (boys like themselves), armed with bayonets and met by machine guns. Imagine those who were wreathed in poisoned gas, blinded by smoke and mustard fumes, their throats too choked to scream, heroes robbed of wits and possessed by a terror unseen in your wildest nightmares.

Imagine those who perished in open fields, in wooded copses and muddy trenches. Imagine those who died far from home, who left their mothers and sisters and sweethearts on a mission to retrieve the Kaiser’s helmet and were never seen again.

If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep …

In Flanders Field was written by a man, a witness to the slaughter of a generation sent forth to preserve the liberty of others. In the poem, the dead pass us the torch and warn us against breaking their faith—but can ceasing to fight be considered a break of their faith? They know now, knew as soon as they shed their broken and bloody flesh, that war is not the way to peace. We remember them today because they offered their innocence, their futures, and their very lives to ensure that the world was a safe place for everyone to live.

That it is worse now than it was then, is an insult to their sacrifice.

So remember why they went forth so courageously, in pursuit of an ideal that lies within reach of every living soul yet remains untouched. Remember that war is the worst horror we can visit upon ourselves and do everything in your power to Stop It.

Perhaps then, the dead will sleep.