The Symbolic Poppy
“In Flanders Field the poppies blow“, the words of sentiment expressed by a doctor, as he looked over land devastated by warring factions.
Lieutenant Colonel John Mccrea, a doctor, surgeon, in the heat of battle, knew of the atrocities of war, but allowed himself time to reflect on the beauty of nature.
At the front with the soldiers, he had his makeshift office, dispensary, operating room, in a small bunker, nestled, and hopefully secure, behind the line.
Hygiene was not the order of the day. Soldiers caked in mud were his patients. Bullet wounds, shrapnel hits and foot disease, were his prime concern.
The training that our solders got was minimal at best. Professionals they were not. Farmers, bankers, students were those -available to stem the tide.
The casualties of the Great War, were measured in the thousands. Terrain, tactics, weaponry created losses on both sides too high for comprehension.
The poppies in the field were as numerous as the casualties sustained on each side.
The colour red was ever fitting, symbolic of the blood that was shed.
Life at the front was horrific
For all these men lived each day, in a quagmire, their boots always wet, encouraging disease.
Rodents and insects abounded.
This was their home, and they made sure, their intruders were well aware of their existence.
They were the second enemy.
The weapons used in World War 1 lacked the sophistication of today’s array of fire power. Tanks were crude in design and in performance.
Motorized transport for heavy guns did not exist. This chore was left to hardy steeds.
Their progress through the mud was slow.
When time was of the essence, delays in arrival could be profound.
The weapons that the soldiers bore were often ineffective. The dirt and mud would render them unusable.
This was a war of foot soldiers.
Hand to hand fighting at times.
The battle grounds were small, confined. Distance between combatants at times was non- existent.
Each side could see the other up close and banter back and forth,
Such was the case in nineteen fourteen, in many of the trenches, the two sides celebrated all together the spirit of Christmas.
Fraternization of combatants.
A scene never before imagined and has never been repeated.
Another first, encountered in this war, was the use of lethal gas by the enemy. An event that is not acceptable today.
Lethal gas knew not the intended target. Soldiers, civilians were exposed to an unseen killer.
And from this one encounter, humanity would ban its’ use.
This atrocity would be the genesis of certain rules of combat.
Like a boxing match, each side must play within the rules.
A civilized way to settle the score.
.
The poppy with its’ colour red, was emblematic of the blood that was shed in those four years.
The startling contrast between the field of poppies and the battlefields is hard to imagine, but nature will always be a casualty of war.