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.
A hundred years ago today, the German army, having swept through Belgium and into northwestern France, had been forced back from the Marne and had set up defensive trenches that they would occupy, across the killing fields of Flanders from the French and British trenches, for most of the next four years.
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.
A hundred years ago today, the Austro-Hungarian army had finally (after months of incompetence and failure) broken the back of the Serbian army and were marching on Belgrade. They would take it, but they'd hold it for less than two weeks, and it would take another year for them to recapture the city.
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 hundred years ago today, the initial Russian invasion of Prussia had collapsed, but the simultaneous invasion of Galicia had succeeded. Przemysl lay besieged, its inhabitants starving and dying of cholera.
A hundred years ago today, the Russian army and the Germany army engaged outside of Lodz, a battle which would see 280,000 killed, wounded, or captured in a meaningless fight that had no clear victor.
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