November 11: Rememberance Day

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Veterans, Rememberance, Armistice Day "Least We Forget"

God of peace and love, on this 11th day of the 11th month we once again gather to remember. We remember that in Jesus of Nazareth you have called us to be people of peace saying, “Blessed are the peacemakers” and reminding us that we are to love our neighbor and our enemy as we love ourselves.
But we also acknowledge that there are times when we as a global community fail to live out those words, times when young men and women hear the call to don the uniforms of their country and serve under their flag.
Today we give thanks for all who have chosen to serve their country. We give thanks for their bravery, their commitment, and their love.
But we know that when armies meet on the field there are always some who don’t come home.
And so we pause in the memory of those who went and did not return to mothers and wives and children left behind.

We remember battles at Ypres, and Passchendaele, and Vimy Ridge in the war we were told would end all wars, battles where the blood of enemies mingled in the mud and water of France and Belgium, .
And we remember those who fell in the war that came a scarce generation later. And again young men died in places like Hong Kong, and Ortona, and Dieppe, and Juno Beach , and in the Netherlands.
We remember all who fell and were buried far from home, or who sank to a watery grave in the cold Atlantic and Pacific.

Then as the years past the roles changed and we sent our best to help keep the peace in places like Cyprus, and the Golan Heights, and Cambodia. And still some died and were buried.
And now, in this last decade years we find that our young have returned to the battlefield in Afghanistan and Iraq , only to have many of them return in a coffin carried solemnly to a waiting aircraft.

God, whose hope for the world is peace, on this day we not only remember the fallen of our own country but those who lie buried under a military tombstone. We remember also the fallen of Germany, and Japan, and France, and Australia. Or Italians, and native Afghans, and English. This day we honor (“all”) who die as a result of humanity’s common failing to live in the peace you have hoped for all these millennium’s.

God, we pray too for those who returned from battle forever changed by the horrors of what they had seen. For those who bore, and still bear, wounds of body and soul. In particular we remember those from within our homeland communities who have died since the last time we gathered to remember this special November Day
And now, God of love, as we have remembered and honored, we prepare to go back into our everyday lives. May the remembering we have done here today reawaken and strengthen our commitment to work for peace, true peace. Help us to remember that peace will never truly come from a gun barrel but from the depths of our hearts. Help us remember our calling to be peacemakers at home and abroad, in the big things and in the small. And may we never forget the cost that has already been paid.

God of peace that surpasses all understanding, we pray our remembrances and our hopes in the name of Christ, the Prince of Peace, who taught his friends to pray by saying together: Our Father, who art in heaven… Hail Mary…Amen


Poppies Planted in Flanders Field
 
I will remember my Dad and my four uncles, World War II.

My three cousins, Vietnam.

My nephew, Persian Gulf '91.

My brothers-in-law, youngest uncle, and two other cousins, Cold War.

And my buddy when I was overseas, Jeff, who died in the line of duty.

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**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**

Composed at the battlefront on May 3, 1915
during the second battle of Ypres, Belgium
By Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae
On May 2, 1915, John McCrae’s close friend and former student Alexis Helmer was killed by a German shell. That evening, in the absence of a Chaplain, John McCrae recited from memory a few passages from the Church of England’s “Order of the Burial of the Dead”. For security reasons Helmer’s burial in Essex Farm Cemetery was performed in complete darkness.
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The next day, May 3, 1915, Sergeant-Major Cyril Allinson was delivering mail. McCrae was sitting at the back of an ambulance parked near the dressing station beside the YserCanal, just a few hundred yards north of Ypres, Belgium.
In Flanders Fields Poem
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As John McCrae was writing his In Flanders Fields poem, Allinson silently watched and later recalled, “His face was very tired but calm as he wrote. He looked around from time to time, his eyes straying to Helmer’s grave."
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Within moments, John McCrae had completed the “In Flanders Fields” poem and when he was done, without a word, McCrae took his mail and handed the poem to Allinson.
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Allinson was deeply moved:
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“The (Flanders Fields) poem was an exact description of the scene in front of us both. He used the word blow in that line because the poppies actually were being blown that morning by a gentle east wind. It never occurred to me at that time that it would ever be published. It seemed to me just an exact description of the scene."
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In loving memory of my Father and of my uncles of both maternal and paternal families, all who served in and survived WWII, blessed be God.
 
I’ve always liked reading “private’s memoirs” from the Civil War era as well as the oral histories of WW2 vets that have that have become popular in recent decades.

But what about the ones like my father who never talk about their experiences? He was an Air Corps medic who served in France and Belgium. The only stories he ever told were about funny SNAFUs that happened in the States or England. And I’ve noticed lots of WW2 vets are the same way.
I only ever learnt that medics were paid $10 less per month than regular soldiers by watching The War on PBS.

Anyway here’s to all the Dads & uncles & aunts & cousins & siblings who have served and kept their stories inside.
 
Remembering with genuine respect and with solemn heart “all” War Veterans everywhere who died and are still living, who served to uphold Peace and Freedom in our lands for all of us…

Remembering too my belated Grandfather who served in the Second World War.
He would tremble in fear when asked about the horrors he witnessed.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
 
I just was sent this by about.com - Catholicism:
Prayer for Those in the Armed Services
For Protection From Spiritual Danger
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By Scott P. Richert, About.com Guide
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In the past, Catholic soldiers, when circumstances permitted, went to Confession and received Holy Communion before entering battle. This touching prayer for all who serve in the armed forces emphasizes the spiritual, rather than the physical, dangers of war, because physical death is powerless to kill the soul, but sin can deprive us of Heaven.
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**Prayer for Those in the Armed Services**
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O God, we implore Thee, watch over those exposed to the horrors of war and to the spiritual dangers of a soldier's, a sailor's, or an airman's life. Give them such a strong faith that no human respect may ever lead them to deny it, or fear to practice it. Do Thou by Thy grace fortify them against the contagion of bad example, that, being preserved from vice, and serving Thee faithfully, they may be ready to meet death whenever it may happen, through Christ our Lord.
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O Sacred Heart, inspire them with sorrow for sin, and grant them pardon. Mother of God, be with them in battle, and, if they should be called to make the supreme sacrifice, obtain for them that they may die in the grace of Thy Divine Son.
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May their guardian angels protect them. Amen.
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When I prayed my Rosary yesterday, I offered each of the decades in honor of:
  1. Our Lady, the ‘Valiant Virgin who stood at the foot of the Cross’
  2. St. Michael the Archangel, the ‘Prince of the Heavenly Host and Patron of Soldiers and Paratroopers’
  3. St. George, ‘Soldier and Martyr, Patron of Soldiers and of England’
  4. St. Martin of Tours, ‘Soldier and Bishop’, whose feast day falls on Remembrance Day /Veterans Day
  5. St. Joan of Arc, ‘Patron of Female Soldiers and of France’
I also watched a few YouTube videos of last year’s Remembrance Day ceremony in London. My twin sister was there when this happened. She wasn’t at the Centotaph in Whitehall, but she was at a service in Westminster Abbey nearby. And she also visited some of the ‘Great War’ battlefields in Belgium, including the Menin Gate in Ypres…she even placed a wreath of poppies at the Gate!

My late father served in World War II, on the battleship USS Santa Fe, which earned a place in Navy history when it came to the rescue of the USS Franklin, an aircraft carrier which was attacked off the coast of Japan on St. Joseph’s Day 1945.

His older brother, my godfather, had a less adventurous military service as a supply clerk in the same war.

My late mother’s two brothers served in the US Army in Germany and Italy, respectively. The older uncle was in Bavaria, Southern Germany-rather ‘touchy’ being a native-born German-and the younger one was at Anzio and Monte Cassino. He passed away this past June, on the 67th anniversary of the liberation of Rome. He received, before his death, a belated Bronze Star for wartime heroism: he carried a wounded officer to safety through a mine field.

God bless and keep all of our veterans, from all our wars, past and present!
 
My great-great grandfather, who migrated here from Germany, and fought against it in World War I. After he survived, his son, my great grandfather Odis, was a Marine in World War II. He fought in some of the most gruesome battles of the war in the pacific, including Pearl Harbor. He rarely talked about it, but he said that there were streams of blood running down the hallways of the ship. And finally, my grandfather John, who was an Air Force pilot in Korea. Sadly, six months after he was discharged, all of his friends in the Air Force died in a plane wreck. I pray that they all paved their salvation through their valor and courage. :signofcross:
 
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