Fallen Heroes Forgotten
Local cemeteries throughout the country once paid homage to their fallen heroes, but years of neglect and forgetfulness have left our children?s and our forefathers' graves in disheveled heaps of concrete. No, not the graves of Iraqi War veterans, Vietnam veterans, nor even the World War II veterans; but the Civil War, Mexican War, The Indian Wars, and World War I veterans lay in forgotten scenes like the one above. They are the long-forgotten heroes, some without names, others without families to place a flower on their tombstones, or what is left of their tombstones.
A nation mourns its dead once a year. A family mourns its dead daily, perhaps hourly. But, who mourns the deaths of our forefathers buried in a fallen Midwest Cemetery, or a deserted cemetery on the prairie? The richest nation in the world keeps the tombstones nice and shiny at Gettysburg, Washington D.C., and France. However, in the heart of our American culture, the dead lying in forgotten cemeteries lay in near-mocking serenity.
We as a nation and as states of the union owe it to our dead to be recognized by their fellow citizens, to be remembered for their suffering and their sacrifices. Call your mayor, your congressmen/women, your senators. Tell them to target money for cleaning and repairing the cemeteries in which our forefathers' rest enternally.
In Flanders Fields
By
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.
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