H e t - B e l g i s c h - L e g e r

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 In Flanders Fields

 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 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        1915, John McCrae

                                                                 Alles rond het leger - wapens - groeperingen 

                                                             W o r l d  W a r   I  -  I I