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Ten Pennies Per Paper Poppy

—a childhood memory of Memorial Day

Ten pennies per paper poppy
I helped my mother sell
We sold some fifty poppies
—She thought we did quite well.
Pretty paper poppies
For soldiers who passed away.
They had a smell of honor
On our Memorial Day.

The folks in towns would wear them
So most of them were bought
To honor our brave soldiers
Who for our country fought.
My Dad stood there as Chaplain
And held the ceremony.
He fought in World War II—
A living testimony.

Our smalltown of five hundred,
he led in the parade.
Three blocks to City Hall.
Faux coffins were arrayed.
Then came the cemetery
With just a dozen plots.
A twenty-one-gun salute
Right through our hearts was shot.

And after it was finished,
I picked up the brass shells
Of used up ammunition
As someone tolled the bells.

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Poet’s Note

The tradition of wearing poppies on American Memorial Day began with a poem by Canadian Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae who was an Artillery Brigade Surgeon for Allied forces in World War I. LTC McCrae’s poem, “In Flanders Field,” was written after seeing clusters of poppies in fields containing dead and wounded soldiers after the Second Battle of Ypres. It was published in England in Punch Magazine in 1915. His legacy inspired the tradition of wearing poppies on days of remembering the military dead in various countries, especially in Canada, England, and America in honor of the dead soldiers who fought in foreign wars.

According to Carrie Honaker, writing in Southern Living:

In 1923, poppies were assembled by disabled and needy veterans. They were paid for their work by the VFW. The next year, disabled veterans at the Buddy Poppy factory in Pittsburgh assembled VFW Buddy Poppies, and the designation Buddy Poppy was adopted and trademarked.

Today the VFW’s Buddy Poppy program volunteers hand out red poppies in exchange for donations every Memorial Day. Proceeds go to compensate those who assemble the poppies, as well as provide financial assistance to state and national veterans’ rehabilitation and service programs and the VFW National Home.

(Reference: https://www.southernliving.com/poppies-for-memorial-day-8651980)

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LTC Roy E. Peterson, US Army Military Intelligence and Russian Foreign Area Officer (Retired) has published more than 6,200 poems in 88 of his 112 books. He has been an Army Attaché in Moscow, Commander of INF Portal Monitoring in Votkinsk, first US Foreign Commercial Officer in Vladivostok, Russia and Regional Manager in the Russian Far East for IBM. He holds a BA, Hardin-Simmons University (Political Science); MA, University of Arizona (Political Science); MA, University of Southern California (Int. Relations) and MBA University of Phoenix. He taught at the University of Arizona, Western New Mexico University, University of Maryland, Travel University and the University of Phoenix.

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25 Responses

  1. Paul A. Freeman

    I enjoyed this reminiscence, especially the poignant last stanza.

    Keeping the memory of past wars and the memories of those who died in them alive is increasingly difficult. You’ve done this purely through referencing those who made the ultimate sacrifice for their country and through the innocent eyes of a boy who is the recipient of what was achieved by that sacrifice.

    Did you know that Flanders Fields was rejected by at least one top-rated magazine before Punch accepted it? A lesson for us all when our work gets rejected. It’s also my go-to rondeau when I want to put a rondeau together.

    Thanks for the read, Roy.

    Reply
    • Roy Eugene Peterson

      Thank you, Paul, for the kind comments, especially remembering the sacrifices. . I did know “Flanders Fields” was first rejected. Thank you again for reminding us to keep on trying.

      Reply
  2. Margaret Coats

    Thanks, Roy, for the memories of childhood paper poppies. I was inspired yesterday as well by hearing the oath I took long ago to “support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies foreign and domestic, and to bear true faith and allegiance to the same United States, to obey the orders of the President and of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and to the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.”

    The used-up ammunition shells and the tolling bells at the end of your poem call to mind today those who died carrying out the duties of that oath. May they rest in peace.

    Reply
    • Roy Eugene Peterson

      We shared that same oath. Thank you for posting it as a wonderful reminder. Our American paper poppies were well-constructed with several petals. The VFW labeled them “Buddy” poppies.

      Reply
  3. Mike Bryant

    Thank you for sharing this heartfelt poem. I deeply respect the sacrifices made by those who serve in the military. Your poem captures the innocence of childhood memories and the solemnity of Memorial Day traditions in a small town. The imagery of paper poppies and the twenty-one-gun salute is touching, and I appreciate how you connect personal family history with broader acts of remembrance. The sincerity and respect for those who have served shine through. Thanks for honoring their memory.

    Reply
    • Roy Eugene Peterson

      Mike, how poignant and sincere were your wonderful words of support. Bless you for your sharing them in recognition of a memories of a small child and of the sacrifices of our military men and women.

      Reply
  4. Julian D. Woodruff

    Roy,
    Thank you for a touching tribute. And the sighs rise today as, though there is (as yet) no WWIII, in so many places and in so many ways the world seems at war with itself.

    Reply
  6. Gigi Ryan

    Dear Roy,
    What a moving memory and story you have shared. Thank you. I am reminded that the life liturgies I use with my children and grandchildren will live with them long after I am gone.
    Gigi

    Reply
    • Roy Eugene Peterson

      Gigi, your observation is so correct. I have read that many attitudes are set by the age of seven. Such memories of things that matter set our feet on the right path for the rest of our lives. They certainly were burned into my mind.

      Reply
  7. James Sale

    Thanks Roy for this moving tribute: would we could in my own country renew that sense of honour and patriotism. Many feel like me but the leadership is so awful and low.

    Reply
    • Roy Eugene Peterson

      Thank you for the kind mention of a tribute. I am saddened by the touching realization that patriotism has precipitously declined in the UK.

      Reply
  8. Brian Yapko

    Thank you for this very moving poem, Roy, with the very personal memory of you and your mother selling these lovely and tangible symbols of respect and of your father leading the ceremony of remembrance. We can never truly repay those who made the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom. This poem helps keep them alive and honored in our hearts and minds.

    Reply
    • Roy Eugene Peterson

      Precious comments, Brian. I appreciate them with your well-spoken words of caring.

      Reply
  9. Cynthia L Erlandson

    Thank you for this observation of Memorial Day, Roy. Your juxtaposition of the brass shells with the bells at the end is very lovely and moving.

    Reply
    • Roy Eugene Peterson

      Cynthia, those are precious comments. I thank you for sharing them.

      Reply
  10. Joseph S. Salemi

    Your fine poem brought to mind many military funerals that I attended over the years. The firing of rifles, the sharp click of the bolt actions, and the clink of cartridge casings on the ground, followed by the piercing wail of the bugle playing Taps — they have become a powerful icon of American patriotism.

    Thanks to all soldiers, active or retired, living or dead, who have served our country.

    Reply
    • Roy Eugene Peterson

      I know the feeling including the local American Legion nit doing those things at my dad’s funeral. Thank you for sharing your experiences of American patriotism you expressed.

      Reply
  11. Cheryl A Corey

    Deceased men in my family tree served WWII, the Korean War, and Vietnam, but I never knew about the story or understood the significance of the poppy before. Thank you for bringing this to light, Roy.

    Reply
    • Roy Eugene Peterson

      I am so pleased with being able to share the story of the poppy. We need to be rooted in our history and understand the meaning of things that matter. Thank you, Corey, for sharing this.

      Reply
  12. Scharlie Meeuws

    Your poem, Roy, shows vividly that honoring fallen soldiers is a way to show respect and gratitude for their sacrifice in serving their country. It acknowledges their bravery, dedication, and selflessness in defending the values and freedoms that we hold dear. By honoring fallen soldiers, we also pay tribute to their families. It is a way to ensure that their memory lives on and that their contributions are never forgotten.
    I lost my own father in WWII .
    Here in the UK we also sell poppies in memory of their sacrifice. May they never be forgotten….
    Your last stanza is especially remarkable. It shows nearly as a normality, picking up the shells, listening to the bells….that’s just how it has to be!
    I thoroughly enjoyed this one!

    Reply
    • Roy Eugene Peterson

      Sharlie, thank you for your precious comments and sharing your understanding and values of UK patriotism. I am touched that you and others really appreciated the last stanza and final words. “Normalcy” is a great way to describe such events in the minds of children as such events over the years become stamped in their heads.

      Reply
  13. Russel Winick

    Lovely poem, Roy. Thank you for it. I remember those poppies, and marching with my father – a scoutmaster – in my hometown’s Memorial Day parades. They included policemen on horses up front. I learned to walk with my head down.

    Reply
    • Roy Eugene Peterson

      Russel, thank you for sharing your own experiences of marching in parades on Memorial Day. They inculcate in us a sense of honor and duty regarding both those who and fallen and the transfer to the next generation of patriotism.

      Reply

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