{"id":2612,"date":"2016-12-18T17:15:19","date_gmt":"2016-12-18T17:15:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/english.lycee.nl\/?page_id=2612"},"modified":"2016-12-18T17:15:19","modified_gmt":"2016-12-18T17:15:19","slug":"selection-of-ww1-poems","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/mrglackin.eu\/?page_id=2612","title":{"rendered":"Selection of WW1 poems"},"content":{"rendered":"<p class=\"western\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">In Flanders Fields<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\"><strong><span style=\"font-size: small;\">by John McCrae, May 1915<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\"><span style=\"font-size: small;\">In Flanders fields the poppies blow<br \/>\nBetween the crosses, row on row,<br \/>\nThat mark our place; and in the sky<br \/>\nThe larks, still bravely singing, fly<br \/>\nScarce heard amid the guns below.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\"><span style=\"font-size: small;\">We are the Dead. Short days ago<br \/>\nWe lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,<br \/>\nLoved and were loved, and now we lie<br \/>\nIn Flanders fields.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\"><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Take up our quarrel with the foe:<br \/>\nTo you from failing hands we throw<br \/>\nThe torch; be yours to hold it high.<br \/>\nIf ye break faith with us who die<br \/>\nWe shall not sleep, though poppies grow<br \/>\nIn Flanders fields.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\"><b>Inspiration for the poem \u2018In Flanders Fields\u2019 by John McCrae <\/b>(30<sup><span style=\"font-size: small;\">th<\/span><\/sup> November 1872 \u2014 28<sup><span style=\"font-size: small;\">th<\/span><\/sup> January 1918) began the draft for his famous poem \u2018In Flanders Fields\u2019 on the evening of the 2<sup><span style=\"font-size: small;\">nd<\/span><\/sup> May, 1915 in the second week of fighting during the Second Battle of Ypres.<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\">It is believed that the death of his friend, Alexis Helmer, was the inspiration for McCrae&#8217;s poem \u2018In Flanders Fields\u2019. The exact details of when the first draft was written may never be known because there are various accounts by those who were with McCrae at that time.<\/p>\n<ul>\n<li>\n<p class=\"western\">One account says that he was seen writing the poem sitting on the rearstep of an ambulance the next day while looking at Helmer&#8217;s grave and the vivid red poppies that were springing up amongst the graves in the burial ground.<\/p>\n<\/li>\n<li>\n<p class=\"western\">Another account says that McCrae was so upset after Helmer&#8217;s burial that he wrote the poem in twenty minutes in an attempt to compose himself.<\/p>\n<\/li>\n<li>\n<p class=\"western\">A third account by his commanding officer, <b>Lieutenant Colonel Morrison<\/b>, states that John told him he drafted the poem partly to pass the time between the arrival of two groups of wounded at the first aid post and partly to experiment with different variations of the poem&#8217;s metre.<\/p>\n<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<p class=\"western\"><strong>A Soldier\u2019s Cemetery<\/strong><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\"><strong>by John William Streets (killed and missing in action on 1<sup><span style=\"font-size: small;\">st<\/span><\/sup> July 1916 aged 31)<\/strong><\/p>\n<table border=\"0\" width=\"6\" cellspacing=\"0\" cellpadding=\"1\">\n<colgroup>\n<col width=\"4\" \/> <\/colgroup>\n<tbody>\n<tr>\n<td width=\"4\"><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<p class=\"western\">Behind that long and lonely trenched line<br \/>\nTo which men come and go, where brave men die,<br \/>\nThere is a yet unmarked and unknown shrine,<br \/>\nA broken plot, a soldier\u2019s cemetery.<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\">There lie the flower of youth, the men who scorn\u2019d<br \/>\nTo live (so died) when languished Liberty:<br \/>\nAcross their graves flowerless and unadorned<br \/>\nStill scream the shells of each artillery.<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\">When war shall cease this lonely unknown spot<br \/>\nOf many a pilgrimage will be the end,<br \/>\nAnd flowers will shine in this now barren plot<br \/>\nAnd fame upon it through the years descend:<br \/>\nBut many a heart upon each simple cross<br \/>\nWill hang the grief, the memory of its loss.<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\"><strong>Inspiration for his poems in a letter to the poetry publisher, Galloway Kyle:<\/strong><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\">\u201cThey were inspired while I was in the trenches, where I have been so busy I have had little time to polish them. I have tried to picture some thoughts that pass through a man\u2019s brain when he dies. I may not see the end of the poems, but I hope to live to do so. We soldiers have our views of life to express, though the boom of death is in our ears. We try to convey something of what we feel in this great conflict to those who think of us, and sometimes, alas! Mourn our loss.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\">Unfortunately, Will&#8217;s desire to live to see his poems published was never fulfilled.<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\">On 1<sup><span style=\"font-size: small;\">st<\/span><\/sup> July 1916 Sergeant John William Streets moved with the 12th Battalion York &amp; Lancaster Regiment into the assembly trenches behind John Copse on the Somme battlefield. The attack was launched at 07.30 hours. Will&#8217;s battalion went in on the second wave. Will was wounded and made his way back to the British line to get his wound seen to. He was seen going to help another wounded man but he subsequently disappeared.<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\">Will\u2019s body was missing for 10 months before it was identified; it was found in the area of No-Mans Land. On 1<sup><span style=\"font-size: small;\">st<\/span><\/sup> May 1917 he was officially listed as \u201cKilled\u201d.<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\"><strong>The Soldier<\/strong><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\"><strong>by Rupert Brooke<\/strong><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\">If I should die, think only this of me:<br \/>\nThat there&#8217;s some corner of a foreign field<br \/>\nThat is forever England. There shall be<br \/>\nIn that rich earth a richer dust concealed;<br \/>\nA dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,<br \/>\nGave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam;<br \/>\nA body of England&#8217;s, breathing English air,<br \/>\nWashed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.<br \/>\nAnd think, this heart, all evil shed away,<br \/>\nA pulse in the eternal mind, no less<br \/>\nGives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;<br \/>\nHer sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;<br \/>\nAnd laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,<br \/>\nIn hearts at peace, under an English heaven.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>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<span class=\"more-link\">Continue reading<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-2612","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrglackin.eu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2612","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrglackin.eu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrglackin.eu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrglackin.eu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrglackin.eu\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2612"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/mrglackin.eu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2612\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2613,"href":"https:\/\/mrglackin.eu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2612\/revisions\/2613"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrglackin.eu\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2612"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}