In Flanders fields the poppies blow (grow)
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

Composed at the battlefront on May 3, 1915
during the second battle of Ypres, Belgium 

by Canadian Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae

Two of my paternal great-uncles served in France. One came home; the body of the other was never found.

On the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11 month, we stand in silent remembrance.

My paternal grandfather served in World War 1

My father served in World II, Korea and South-East Asia.

I remember the dead, the wounded, the vets, the civilians, the families, the never-ending cycle.