We are children of the sun, Rising sun! Weaving Southern destiny, Waiting for the mighty hour When our Shiloh shall appear With the flaming sword of right, With the steel of brotherhood, And emboss in crimson die Liberty! Fraternity! ... Read more of Children Of The Sun at Martin Luther King.caInformational Site Network Informational
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World Wars

The Thirteenth Regiment
The World War has shown clearly that all peoples are not alik...

November 11 1918
Sinners are said sometimes to repent and change their ways at...

Waiting For The Flash
Not at once can the mind grasp the full significance of the w...

President Wilson In France
On December 14, 1918, President Wilson arrived in Paris. He ...

Where The Tide Turned
It is the general impression that the tide of victory set in ...

Fighting A Depth Bomb
All who have read of the sinking of the Lusitania, by a torpe...

The United States Marines
Our flag's unfurled to every breeze From dawn to setti...

A Boy Of Perugia
In the year 1500, Raphael was a boy of eighteen in Perugia wo...

Bombing Metz
ADAPTED FROM THE ACCOUNT WRITTEN BY RAOUL LUFBERY In Janua...

U S Destroyer _osmond C Ingram_
If you were standing on the deck of a patrol boat watching fo...

Joyce Kilmer
The first poet and author in the American army to give up his...

The Tommy
John Masefield, the English writer, says, St. George did not ...

The Lost Battalion
On December 24, 1918, Lieutenant Colonel Charles W. Whittlese...

When The Tide Turned
THE AMERICAN ATTACK AT CHATEAU-THIERRY AND BELLEAU WOOD IN TH...

The Yank
The boche went into the war as a robber, the poilu as a crusa...

Blocking The Channel
Bruges is an important city of Belgium made familiar to Ameri...

In Memoriam
[THE FIGHTING YEARS, 1914-1918] Ring out, wild bells, ...

Trees
I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. ...

The Little Old Road
There's a breath of May in the breeze On the little ol...

The Secret Service
The United States did not declare war till nearly three years...



A Carol From Flanders






1914

In Flanders on the Christmas morn
The trenched foemen lay,
The German and the Briton born--
And it was Christmas Day.

The red sun rose on fields accurst,
The gray fog fled away;
But neither cared to fire the first,
For it was Christmas Day.

They called from each to each across
The hideous disarray
(For terrible had been their loss):
O, this is Christmas Day!

Their rifles all they set aside,
One impulse to obey;
'Twas just the men on either side,
Just men--and Christmas Day.

They dug the graves for all their dead
And over them did pray;
And Englishman and German said:
How strange a Christmas Day!

Between the trenches then they met,
Shook hands, and e'en did play
At games on which their hearts are set
On happy Christmas Day.

Not all the Emperors and Kings,
Financiers, and they
Who rule us could prevent these things
For it was Christmas Day.

O ye who read this truthful rime
From Flanders, kneel and say:
God speed the time when every day
Shall be as Christmas Day.

FREDERICK NIVEN.





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