GARDEN OF MEMORIES

Evening Post, Volume CXV, Issue 85, 11 April 1933, Page 8

GARDEN OF MEMORIES

A CEMETERY IN FRANCE

POPPIES AND BARBED WIRE

(By W. Branrwell Scott.)

Just behind the lino .where- our men fought in 1917 there is a soldier's cemetery which has become to a certain padre a veritable garden of memories. It was a,glorious summer morning in July when the padre first saw its white crosses and scarlet poppies. Ho was on his way to tho adjoining1 village to arrange a service- for the men who had boon .billeted there. There was no sign of a cemetery till ono got in front Of it, for tho side view was obstructed. Suddenly, tows of little white crosses glinting in tho sun, startled the sight, and awoke the imagination to scenes of battlo and sudden death. - In the far right-hand corner a burial party was at work. ' On tho following. Sunday the padre held a service on the ■ green of that cemetery, and it did not seem a melancholy placo for worship. Indeed, it was the naturaty'placc. Our brothers had fallen asleep,- and we hiiii gently wrapped them in their blankets. They were in God's keeping. It may be our turn next to "Go West." That was the way wo all felt. They had done, their "bit" and we'ro taking their rest while wo endeavoured to "carry on." At that time ,of tho year ,the barbed wire was a. mass of green, and scarlet, ' for the grass had grown unchecked all the summer and innumerable .poppies lifted high their heads as though to cover with their 1/eauty the- ugly and threatening spikes. Poppies wero, fluttering their crimson wings over every gravo. They were beautiful and they were real, but just then tho war seemed a dream of the night. Poppies arc tho flowers of' forgetfulness—the flowers of sleep and pleasant drcamings. And they bloomed luxuriantly in Prance. It is a mistako to supposo that tho "Digger" was in a constant state of fear and distress. There were periods j of terror and suffering, but thero many times of laughter and song. There was Lh'o barbed v/ird, but it was often over-, grown with popples. Thcro hearts j were filled with merriment. . - It1 was tho compensation for the hardships j and dangers they experienced: And' no ono ever had more- right to laugh and to be careless, for they had given their all. They saw tho grave,- but they also saw the poppies of God's planting. Their conception of God! was not always ortho/Jox; that Ho might lMwnore than a Father, they believed, *$re' He could not be less. They wreathed tho barbed wire of tragedy with the poppies of laughter, song, and dreams. THE LIVING WHO NEED HELP. It is all ovpr and wo are askod not to forget, and as far as that is concerned, I do not think that those who aro my contemporaries ever will. Just at present we aro 'deeply concerned about those who, having1 returned, aro unfortunate enough to experience tho barbed wire of unemployment and ill health and who need all that wo can give them in order to provide the poppies to hido tho ghastliness of barbed wiro entanglements. One is reminded of the blinded soldier who feared for the future when the. war was done, as expressed in the words of Studdert Kennedy:— Yes, I know they've been and promised, But it's easy to forget. When the shoutin's done and over, ■ There's accounts to settle yet. There'll be thousands .samo as me, sir, Out to do what work they caii, ' Not, disabled, but like me, sir, Not just everybody's man. Will they find us jobs to work at Where two 'ands can earn their pay, Fora wage enough to'keep us Free from debt, and pay our way? That's the only thing that worries When I sits me down to think, Will I get my charnce at. 'ome, sir, And enough to eat and;drink? Will another Poppy, Day appeal in vain? ; ■ -■ - ' ■