‘I remember when the â€œnewâ€ 10 dollar bill came out with the poem printed on it. Everyone (including myself) thought it had a typo: â€œIn Flanders Field the poppies grow between the crosses row on rowâ€. Although on the bill it says blow. What an outrage. Turns out – â€œweâ€ were all wrong and the note was right. Blow. Go figure.’
Recently, a post on a local website got John and I talking. The author tells of white poppies that she’s worn on Remembrance day because she doesn’t want to ‘support war’.
“…I tend to get a tad sheepish walking by the Vets selling the red poppies. I bow my head and hurry by hoping they won’t notice me (similar to the way I scuttle by panhandlers when I can’t spare any change). Of course I regret all the death and sacrifices of war but I don’t support it, and I don’t buy that line about protecting my freedom, sorry.” [BeyondRobson]
Yipes. The comments in the string pretty much are along the same lines that John and I were following. Poppies are for Remembrance. I don’t believe I’m supporting a war and terrorism if I simply wear one to Remember the World wars [Cdn Legion] that were supposed to end all others. For a more sobering reflection on the day, try reading this.
I didn’t have family fighting for Canada. One side of my family was in Africa with the British, or back in London, killed in the Blitz. The other was watching all their friends and siblings get killed around them, in front of their faces, in their little Yugoslavian town.
I know this country’s history, bits and pieces of my family’s history and I certainly am aware of what’s going on in the world today. I don’t know how I’m expected to feel, I just know how I do. And if you don’t like the red poppy, just don’t wear one at all.