In Flanders Fields is not in the Armistice spirit

"We are the dead", says John McCrae; arrogating to himself their stilled voice. It gets worse from there: Take up our quarrel with the foe: ... If ye break faith with us who die / We shall not sleep.

So we're to fight forever, then? or to fight until ... when exactly? Assuredly once the Hun is gone from Flanders, but then what? What are your conditions for peace, dead man?

It was a 1915 poem, and it shows.