Registered: Nov 2003
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On The 11th day on the 11th hour the UK pays homage to its war dead every year by wearing a red poppy and holding a minutes silence at the Cenotaph in Whitehall. The red poppy symbolizes the fields of the Flanders were hundreds of thousands died fighting the German war machine in WW1. After intense battles that scoured the landscape the only living thing to emerge from the earth was the red poppy. Wearing the poppy is a national tradition and the red poppy symbolizes the blood lost of those that fought and died for their country in that horrific bloodshed.

But now the PC brigade have jumped on board and are trying to encourage people to wear pink poppies or any other color apart from red because it is associated with death and gore. But isn't that the whole frickkin' point, to remember the horrors of war and those who died in it. I for one shall be wearing a poppy tomorrow and it shall be red. Wearing a poppy is a part of British culture and anyone who thinks that
that buy wearing a poppy of any other color to make some kind of bold statement are disgracing those that sacrificed their lives protecting their country by fighting against German tyranny.

Wear the poppy with pride and make sure it's red.

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quote:

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Originally posted by Cockney_Rebel
But now the PC brigade have jumped on board and are trying to encourage people to wear pink poppies

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mila kura si planina

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Registered: Jul 2000
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Merry Paintmas!!!

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Registered: Apr 2004
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Red poppy, FUCK YEAH!

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Registered: May 2006
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White poppies are being promoted, un-fucking believable. I am surprised this thread is slipping down the page relatively unnoticed, and a tad dissapointed to say the least.

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Registered: Oct 2004
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The white poppy is "suppose" to symbolize PEACE.

The red poppy does NOT symbolize Blood and gore - it symbolizes that colour of poppy which grew in the area.

Lest we forget

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Registered: Aug 2000
Location: In a Blue, Blue State
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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.

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Registered: May 2006
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Yeah i know what it symbolises, the white one that is. I thought the red was to symbolise the blood spilt also.

I haven't read much on the white poppies or who is promoting them. I heard a DJ slamming some group for hyjacking the symbol of the poppy for political gains, the white ones that is.


Any links?

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Registered: Oct 2004
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quote:

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Originally posted by billgerat
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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Registered: Aug 2001
Location: Hilbert Space
Posts: 35658

This was linked at the Corner: http://www.firstworldwar.com/featur...own_warrior.htm. It's worth reading, for the British, at least.

The Cenotaph is still where remembrance Sunday is commemorated (it will be the 12th of November this year). I always watch it (on TV) when I'm in the UK. It's probably the most moving thing that you can see in the UK; I don't know whether many people in the UK today realise what a collosal event the Great War was, nor how many died in service, but we should, as the poem says, Never Forget.

quote:

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Aftermath
By Siegfried Sassoon

Have you forgotten yet? ...
For the world's events have rumbled on since those gagged days,
Like traffic checked while at the crossing of city-ways:
And the haunted gap in your mind has filled with thoughts that flow
Like clouds in the lit heavens of life; and you're a man reprieved to go,
Taking your peaceful share of Time, with joy to spare.
But the past is just the same -- and War's a bloody game. ...

Have you forgotten yet? ...
Look down, and swear by the slain of the War that you'll never forget.

Do you remember the dark months you held the sector at Mametz--
The nights you watched and wired and dug and piled sandbags on parapets.
Do you remember the rats; and the stench
Of corpses rotting in front of the front-line trench--
And dawn coming, dirty-white and chill with a hopeless rain?
Do you ever stop and ask, "Is it all going to happen again?"

Do you remember that hour of din before the attack--
And the anger, the blind compassion that seized and shook you
As you peered at the doomed and haggard faces of your men?
Do you remember the stretcher cases lurching back
With dying eyes and lolling heads - those ashen-grey
Mask of the lads who once were keen and kind and gay?

Have you forgotten yet?
Look up, and swear by the green of the spring that you'll never forget.

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The poem I most always post is the one the fouth verse of which is read at every memorial service that I have ever seen.

quote:

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For the Fallen
by Lawrence Binyon

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

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 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.

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Registered: Aug 2001
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quote:

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Originally posted by skinny
I thought the red was to symbolise the blood spilt also.

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Registered: Sep 2001
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Flying poppy....

Attachment: rugby4.jpg
This has been downloaded 23 time(s).

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mila kura si planina

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Registered: May 2006
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Even on this open minded site i am lost for words as to what i would do to this pair bastards.


http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/li...d=1770&ito=1490

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