On Remembrance Day I honour my Great Uncle Charlie whom I never knew because he was killed in the Great War.

Today’s letter is private and one that will not be mailed because there is no body and no address to mail it too.  It is a letter for Charlie to say I am thinking of him and thanking him for his sacrifice. Charlie was a letter writer and in the coming months I will feature his letters on the anniversary of the days he wrote each of them.

I will leave you with the famous poem we all learned in elementary school but that we perhaps understand better as adults after having learned about the horrors of war at school, in the news, and through our friends and family who served, or may still be serving, their countries.

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.

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