Introduction
Almost sixty years ago a horrible conflict broke out which, before it ended in 1945, had involved most of the nations of the world. The daily lives of millions of people were harshly interrupted by this global conflict, and a vast multitude of people—many quite young—left home, never to return alive.
Today, many who are younger are not able to fully relate to the solemn effects of this terrible time and its intrusion into the lives of the young people of that day. What young Christians faced during World War II—as well as the Korean and Viet Nam conflicts—were real, solemn and very difficult tests of faith.
In our affluent and comfortable Western world—a place where young believers rarely have to leave the comfort and security of a Christian home to face the brutal realities of war in foreign fields—it is difficult to appreciate such trials of faith (1 Peter 1:77That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honor and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ: (1 Peter 1:7)).
Hearing the experiences of those who, in their late teens and early twenties, were separated from peaceful and safe Christian environments, ushered into the harsh realities of godless and violent atmospheres, can be a source of real blessing.
Dear brethren, still living and known to many today, who faced those dark times as young men, carry many memories of them—times when the reality of their faith was severely tested.
We trust that recounting some of their stories as examples of faith will encourage all, specially those who are younger. Lord willing, beginning this month, we will include reminiscences of some of our dear brethren from their days in service. May each who reads them be blessed and strengthened in the faith.
We encourage other brethren who were caught up in these conflicts to send, as the Lord may give liberty to each, their stories to us.
Ed.
A “Medic” Remembers Europe (1944-1945)
I was drafted into the army at age 18. The Lord allowed me to be granted the status of “conscientious objector,” and I became a “Medic.” The army world I entered was very wicked and very shocking to one such as myself, coming from a Christian home. The vile language and the efforts of older men to get younger men drunk was particularly upsetting and sad to my heart.
After 6 months of training stateside, we were shipped to England, where I was able to get to the meeting in Taunton for five months. There were two elderly brothers there whose last name was Widgery. But then came DDay and my medical unit was shipped to the front lines in France and, later, Germany. My father had given me a small Bible when I left home, which I carried in my shirt pocket—a true safeguard morally and physically.
The verse in Psalm 91, “A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee,” was very comforting. This was especially so when enemy bombers were flying overhead and when we became targets of snipers.
One night, huddled in a foxhole, a shell exploded in the trees over us. The shrapnel hit the men on either side of me, but I was spared any injury. Another time, as we were marching along a road with about 15 feet separating each man in our unit, a shell exploded overhead, wounding four men—both in front of and behind me—while I alone was not hit.
One time, the Lord overruled in amazing grace to save my life in a remarkable way. We had to evacuate 276 wounded men and during this operation I hurt my leg and was unable to continue. Because I could no longer help my partner, I had to stay behind, leaving him to drive our jeep. A bit later, the driver of the jeep, and two others with him, were blown up.
War is a terrible thing causing suffering on both sides. On one occasion, I took a wounded German prisoner back to the collecting station. He could talk English and told me he didn’t like the war. He had been drafted just as I had, and he had a family back home in Germany which he longed to go home and see again.
I had the wonderful blessing of having a praying father and mother back home. From time to time I received letters of encouragement, and dear Jimmy Smith’s service newsletter was always enjoyed.
After the war was over in Europe in April 1945, my battalion was shipped back home on furlough. We were to be shipped out again, this time to Japan. But thanks to the Lord, the war ended before my furlough ended.
T. Brown (adapted)