At the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month in 1918, the guns fell silent. Today, at 11 am on the 11th of November 2010, we remember all those who gave up their lives or their health to serve their country, no matter that the wars might have been avoidable and have mostly been unnecessary. For those who died, and those who were left behind.
The Last Post, by Robert Graves
The bugler sent a call of high romance—
“Lights out! Lights out!” to the deserted square.
On the thin brazen notes he threw a prayer,
“God, if it’s this for me next time in France…
O spare the phantom bugle as I lie
Dead in the gas and smoke and roar of guns,
Dead in a row with the other broken ones
Lying so stiff and still under the sky,
Jolly young Fusiliers too good to die.”
“Lights out! Lights out!” to the deserted square.
On the thin brazen notes he threw a prayer,
“God, if it’s this for me next time in France…
O spare the phantom bugle as I lie
Dead in the gas and smoke and roar of guns,
Dead in a row with the other broken ones
Lying so stiff and still under the sky,
Jolly young Fusiliers too good to die.”
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