Memorial Day - 2014

The young dead soldiers do not speak. 

Nevertheless, they are heard in the still houses: 

who has not heard them? 

They have a silence that speaks for them at night 

and when the clock counts. 

They say: We were young. We have died. 

Remember us. 

They say: We have done what we could 

but until it is finished it is not done. 

They say: We have given our lives but until it is finished 

no one can know what our lives gave. 

They say: Our deaths are not ours: they are yours, 

they will mean what you make them. 

They say: Whether our lives and our deaths were for 

peace and a new hope or for nothing we cannot say, 

it is you who must say this. 

They say, We leave you our deaths. Give them their meaning: give them an end to the 

war and a true peace: give them a victory that ends the war and a peace afterwards: 

give them their meaning.

We were young, they say. We have died; remember us. 

Archibald MacLeish

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. 

John McCrae

In nearly every corner of the world, our soldiers, sailors, airmen, Marines and Coast Guardsmen have laid down their lives...

Belgium

Italy

France

The Netherlands

The National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific
(Hawaii)

At the going down of the sun...

...and in the morning...

We will remember them.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal 

Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres, 

There is music in the midst of desolation 

And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young, 

Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow. 

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted; 

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: 

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. 

At the going down of the sun and in the morning 

We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again; 

They sit no more at familiar tables of home; 

They have no lot in our labour of the day-time; 

They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound, 

Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight, 

To the innermost heart of their own land they are known 

As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust, 

Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain; 

As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness, 

To the end, to the end, they remain.

Laurence Binyon

On this day, take a moment to remember...

Whisper a silent prayer of thanks...

Raise your glass and pay homage to those who gave all of their tomorrows...

That we might have today.