Corre - A Small Village with Great Courage, Memorial Day 2012

Corre's Memorial with fresh flowers at its base, May 2012

Names of those killed, shot or deported

Translates as "Mecca of Resistance"

 

 To the people of Corre -- they didn't give up and they haven't forgotten.

 Written during the First World War by Canadian physician, Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae.

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.

 

A Corre poppy blooming in remembrance May 2012

Written by Alan Seeger, serving as a volunteer for the French Army during WWI

(Alan Seeger was the paternal uncle of musician Pete Seeger)

I have a rendezvous with Death

At some disputed barricade,

When Spring comes back with rustling shade

And apple blossoms fill the air--

I have a rendezvous with Death

When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

 

It may be he shall take my hand,

And lead me into his dark land,

And close my eyes and quench my breath--

It may be I shall pass him still.

I have a rendezvous with Death

On some scarred slope of battered hill,

When Spring comes round again this year

And the first meadow flowers appear.

 

God knows 'twere better to be deep

Pillowed in silk and scented down,

Where Love throbs out in blissful sleep,

Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,

Where hushed awakenings are dear . . .

But I've a rendezvous with Death

At midnight in some flaming town,

When Spring trips north again this year;

And I to my pledged word am true,

I shall not fail that rendezvous.