Remembering "the Way": Memories From Holand - A Sailor Remembers - A Machinist Remembers

 •  5 min. read  •  grade level: 8
 
Ed note: With this issue we bring to a close the series on “Remembering ‘the Way.’  ” We trust that the accounts of those who were, as young people, involved in World War II have caused a fresh appreciation of the peace God allows us to enjoy today, while encouraging our hearts with His matchless, loving care in the darkest of circumstances. May we use the present day of peace and ease to be found “redeeming the time, because the days are evil” (Eph. 5:1616Redeeming the time, because the days are evil. (Ephesians 5:16)).
In this article, we share three short excerpts provided by some dear brethren. May the Lord be pleased to use them for blessing.
Memories From Holland
It was May 23, 1944, in Utrecht, Holland. My mother was expecting me to be born in late July, but an enemy bomb exploded two blocks from our home, frightening her so badly that she went into labor, delivering me two months prematurely.
Because my dad had the measles, no doctor or medical person would enter our home (because they would then be quarantined). So my paternal grandmother and an aunt, neither of whom had any medical experience, successfully (with the Lord’s help) delivered me.
I was so weak and sickly that I was unable to keep down milk. Grandma thought she would try to feed me cooled water from cooked rice. My other grandfather owned a store in Langerak, Holland, and so, to obtain rice, my mother had to ride a bike for 1½ hours (one way) and then cross a body of water by rowboat. Because the enemy shot at the boats, my mother had to lie in the bottom of the rowboat.
By God’s grace, my mom was able to get the rice and the Lord used it to preserve my life. He has kept me for these fifty-seven years, and my prayer is that I may give Him all the praise and thanksgiving and live for Him daily.
K. Van Spengen, Sr.
A Sailor Remembers
Knowing I would be called to military service when I graduated from high school, I asked the Lord to put me in a line of service where I would not have to take another’s life. He graciously answered that prayer, though being separated from my family for the first time was not easy.
I was given a Bible by my grandma and an aunt. My arrival at boot camp showed me how loudly this Book can speak. At the camp we were required to empty our civilian bags of all our personal belongings and were given, in exchange, military gear.
A very rough looking sailor was going through each civilian bag with a curt, harsh manner. He summarily threw many of the new recruits’ personal belongings into a garbage can. When it came my turn, this hardened military veteran saw my Bible on top of my belongings. Picking it up ever so gently and carefully, he laid it aside while examining the rest of my belongings. Then with equal gentleness and care he placed it back, allowing me to keep it.
This incident caused me to value my Bible like never before, and it was a wonderful companion while at sea for the duration of the war.
Though my experiences were not life-threatening like so many other young men experienced, I proved the truth of what a brother used to say: “His protecting care from dangers seen and unseen.”
I remember one time, when our fleet was in operation off the coast of Japan, that we were hit with a sudden and violent three-day typhoon. Psalm 107:2330 well describes that storm. Although there was much damage and loss, the Lord was in control and He made the storm a calm. Military service showed me how fragile is the thread of life—in the prime of life one moment and eternity the next.
L. Campbell
A Machinist Remembers
When I was twenty-one (in 1942), we knew I would be drafted into the Army unless I volunteered. My dad advised me to do that, thinking I would have a better chance to get the kind of work I wanted. When I volunteered, I asked to be put in the Medics because I was determined not to kill. I would rather risk being killed myself than to take another’s life. They said they would see what they could do. But nothing seemed to be happening, for I was still in Combat Engineer training. I went to the chaplain and asked if he could help me. About a week later my name was posted on the bulletin board as going to St. Louis to a machine shop training school. The Lord was wonderfully working things out for me.
After all the training was over, I was sent overseas to a camp near Cairo, Egypt. Although I did have Christian fellowship, I can’t remember meeting any Christians when being shipped over. Our ship was loaded with technical troops who would maintain the equipment used in the war. The enemy would have been happy to have sunk our ship, but the Lord protected us on our thirty-nine-day voyage to Egypt.
One time when out on the desert, several of us had to sleep in a tent. It was crowded, and the language was so bad that I decided to sleep outside on the sand. Another time, a group of soldiers were using such vile, corrupt language that I took my Bible and showed them a particular verse—which quickly made them decide to go elsewhere!
Although I was later transferred to Naples, Italy, while still in Egypt I was allowed to go to Palestine on furlough. It was thrilling for me to think that maybe I was privileged to be in the very place where the Lord agonized in prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. In all my service life (and since, too), the Lord has been very good to me—far better than I deserved.
E. Sutherland