Or, as they call it in the UK, Canada (maybe Australia and New Zealand as well?) Remembrance Day. Here in the US, it's become a general holiday to mark the servive given by veterans of all wars - kind of like the way Memorial Day has morphed from a remembrance of the Civil War to something more general.

In Canada, there's something of a tradition of wearing red poppies - it all dates back to the 1915 battles in Flanders, about which a moving poem was written:

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 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.

John McCrae

My grandfather fought with the AEF in France - he went over early - he was an immigrant from Sweden, and had received training in their army as a younger man. The AEF called that good enough, and sent him across with one of the first cohorts. He was one of the lucky ones; he came away with only psychological scars.

I've read a lot about that war, and I always come away amazed at how little the commanders understood modern war - even after many years of it on the Western Front. Wearing a red poppy tomorrow would be a good deed, to my mind.