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EDITOR OF REDSTATE

11 · 11 · 11

On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of the eleventh year in the twenty-first century, we pause to honor our veterans on this Veterans Day and remember that first of the great world wars, which ended the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918.To those who served, we thank you.

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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.

— Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872 – 1918)

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