In Flanders Fields - The origins of the poem

That mark our places.

Between the crosses.

Row upon row.

And under the disturbed remains of some upended earth lay a friend. A pal. A gent twenty years his junior whom he had come to know, respect and appreciate. This man was the ‘Dead’ referenced in his monumental poem. It was then and there, upon a scrap of paper, where the etched vestige of 20 minutes of genius were recorded for all eternity. For all.

With the approach of dawn on the morning of April 22nd, 1915 the Canadians awoke to the appearance of a fog of gas slowly crawling towards their positions. Moments earlier the German war machine had decided to introduce a new form of warfare. With the turning of valves on a long series of cannisters placed behind their lines, chlorine gas was released and began its’ slow crawl across the field of battle. It was here where the lungs of men were torn apart leaving them ‘gargled’ and ‘froth-corrupted’. Panic, chaos and confusion abound as the Battle of Second Ypres began. And it was here, where heroes and legends were born. From amidst the reserve and support lines, Canadian soldiers rushed forth to stop the follow-up infantry attacks led by German troops. While the men were able to fill the gap and advert disaster, the battle would continue. For the next two weeks, a virtual continuous barrage of shell fire was levied against the allied lines. This was combined with successive waves of marauding enemy soldiers aiming to push back the allies and take the strategically important town of Ypres. It was over these two weeks where the Canadian medical officer of the Royal Canadian Artillery 2ndField Battery, Colonel John McRae cared for the wounded.

Step by step, the Canadians and their Allied brethren were pushed back by the Germans. They were pushed back almost 6 kms in the attack, with upwards of 6500 Canadian soldiers either being killed, wounded or captured. McRae’s job was to keep those who were wounded alive. Day by day and night by night the casualties would continuously be brought into his make-shift treatment centre. Then as it does now, the field hospital appeared as a dug-out cave constructed beneath a concrete reinforced roof. It was here where the medical officer tried to save the lives of young, wounded soldiers.

Today marks the anniversary of the death of Lt. Col John McRae. He fell victim to pneumonia on Jan 28th, 1918. He wrote the most famous war poem ever penned, In Flanders Field, three years prior. From the onset of the attack on April 22nd, 1915 and the two weeks that followed, McRae desperately tried to save the scores of wounded men who were brought into his care station. However, it was the death of one man which left an indelible imprint upon the doctor and poet. Only McRae would know, however it may have been that he and the gent shared conversations that allowed him to feel normal. Reminders that this hell was only momentary. Being over twenty years older, maybe it was a father-son-like bond that has only begun to be established. Or shared cups of warm coffee or tea in chance moments of rest away from the operating table offering them a relaxed and well needed distraction. One will never know. What is known is that on that morning, McRae had to preside over the internment of his friend into a hastily dug pit. McRae was the man who recited the well-known and often cited prayers given at the funeral of a soldier. McRae was the man who put him to rest.

Moments later, inspired by grief, enabled by grief and humanity and reflection and the breeze that cascaded across the field of battle, bathing him in the horrid reminiscences that so many had just died, he sat down and wrote the poem. In Flanders Field.

The soldier and friend who inspired John McRae to write the poem was 23 year old Lieutenant Alexis Helmer of Hull Quebec. Remember him.