The Job That Needed Doing

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.

In 1915, Major John McCrae, a Canadian military doctor, wrote this poem about the people he had knew, the people he had walked with, drank with and then the people he had seen buried. Each man and women he saw were people, just like him, who had come to that place to do a job that needed doing. No one had come for glory, or fame. No one wanted to die or have to kill. Something needed to be done and they went to do it.

At 11 am, November 11th, 1918, the guns fell silent on the Western Front of World War I, ending the fighting between the Allies and the Germans. This war, then dubbed the war to end all wars, was effectively over. All told, 37 million soldiers, sailors and airman were counted as casualties, 8 million of those were counted as dead. 8 million crosses were needed to mark the spots where these men and women were laid to rest. Men and women who went to do what needed to be done.

On November 11th, stop for a moment and think about what happened and what is still happening. Men and women are out there doing a job that needs to be done. They are not there fighting for some oil company, or some political power play, they are out there because someone's little girl is in danger, because there is a madman out there wanting to erase an entire race of people, because someone needs them to be there.

2 minutes, that is all they ask for

Remember not who sent them nor why they were sent

Remember that someone needs them to do a Job That Needs Doing