Me: It is story time!
Prodigal: We are ready.
This comes from the book Angels Beside You by James Pruitt
On August 23, 1914, members of the British Expeditionary Force faced their first true test of battle in the great war to end all wars. It came at a place called Mons, the capital of Hainaut Province of Belgium.
The BEF had crossed the channel and landed at Le Havre, under the protection of the Royal Navy. They were deployed along a line behind the Mons-Conde Canal, which offered them some protection from German artillery. As the Germans pressed their attacks, the French, Britain’s ally on the right flank, began to suffer heavy casualties. Shortly thereafter, the French defenses began to crumble under the German onslaught. They had no alternative but to withdraw, leaving the British right flank unprotected and wide open to attack. Seeing this, the Germans were quick to take advantage of the situation and pressed their attack, swinging the German First Army headlong at the weakened flank of the British Expeditionary Force. It would prove to be a disastrous mistake.
British pride, guts, and superb rifle fire immediately took a deadly toll of the German attack force. The assault was shattered by the withering fire and broke, sending the survivors scurrying back to their own lines and the safety of the German trenches.
Once safely inside their own lines, German commanders of the attack force frantically called their higher command headquarters to explain their sudden retreat. They quickly explained that their German forces had been outnumbered ten to one by the British. On this point the German commanders of the First Army were somewhat incorrect. The odds had been ten to one, but it was the British who were outnumbered, not the Germans. The unit that had formed the nucleus of the British stand that day had been the Coldstream Guard.
For the British, however, this was a short-lived victory. As night descended over the battlefield, the Germans began a linkup maneuver in an effort to encircle the British force. Allied commanders, still reeling from the loss of the French positions, could not send reinforcements, and therefore ordered an immediate withdrawal of the British force. As expected, the Coldstream Guard would cover the retreat and would be the last unit out of the area.
A few hours before morning, the Coldstreamers were notified that all Allied units had escaped the rapidly closing German circle and were themselves ordered to withdraw as quickly as possible. In the half-light of a false dawn the lead element of the Coldstreamers became disoriented and wandered about in the semidarkness in an attempt to make contact with their main body. When it became painfully obvious that they were completely out of touch with any Allied forces, the Coldstreamers began to dig in, determined to make another heroic stand at dawn.
In the still darkness they could hear the rattling equipment of the enemy as they brought up reinforcements and began to close the circle more tightly around the Coldstreamers. The men of the Coldstream Guard continued to improve their positions. Their spirits were high, even though they had dug in the earth could well become their own graves.
One of the younger members of the guard spoke with a tone of hope, saying that possible Allied aid could reach them by dawn, but that idea was quickly dashed by the regimental color sergeant. No one knew where they were. There was no need to build false hopes.
At that moment another guardsman looked up from his digging and noticed a warm glow just beyond their position. For a second he thought someone was wandering about with a lantern. He quickly alerted the others. Everyone stopped digging and watched the light. Someone said it could be a farmer searching for his lost barnyard stock. Another joked that it was possible a ghost “No matter what it is,” said color sergeant, “wandering about a battlefield with a lantern is bloody suicide.”
As the light drew closer, the guardsmen began to see the dim outline of a female figure. As it came closer, it became more distinct. Every last man of the guard stood stock-still and stared in awe at the sight. “My word!” grasped the veteran color sergeant, rubbing his eyes, then staring again at the approaching light.
The figure looked remarkably like one of the many representations of angels they had seen numerous times in the regimental chapel: tall, slim, and wearing a flowing white gown. She had a gold band around her hair and sandals on her feet. A pair of white wings were folded against her slim back.
“She’s beckoning to us,” muttered one of the guardsmen. There was no doubt about it, the angel was holding out her arm and with a motion of her hand was beckoning them to follow her. Not one member of the guard moved. She drew closer and her signal became more insistent. Anxious looks were exchanged among the Coldstreamers. What were they going to do?
No one remembers who crawled out of their shallow battle position first, but one by one the Coldstreamers hauled out their weapons and equipment, lined up, and followed the glowing figure across an open field. Not a word was spoken by anyone.
The angel moved on, her right hand still inviting them to follow until she came to a halt on the upper rim of a sunken road. The guardsmen were astonished. Earlier they had sent out patrols in all directions to locate a road or path exactly like the one on which they were now standing, but the patrols had reported finding nothing, not even a cow path.
The color sergeant registered a blistering stare at a young guardsman whose patrol had been assigned to cover this very area earlier. The man was quick to defend himself, stating flatly that no such road had existed in the area only a few hours ago. True, one man could have possible missed finding the road, but not all ten men of the patrol. The others agreed.
Raising her hand again, the vision led the way until all the soldiers had reached the end of the sunken road, then she floated up the bank and pointed to a thicket of small trees only a short distance away. She turned, faced the men of the Coldstream Guard, smiled a warm, pleasant smile at the amazed men–then vanished before their very eyes.
Not questioning this strange visitation, the soldiers made their way to the thicket. Once there, they encountered two British sentries of a regimental forward observation post. They had found their main force. The sentries were equally excited to see the Coldstreamers. Headquarters had already written them off as destroyed in action, or, at the very least, as prisoners of the Germans.
When the story of the angel of Mons reached the high command, they pored over every available map and questioned numerous local residents in an attempt to locate the sunken road identified in the Coldstreamers’ highly unusual report, but no such road could be found on any map, nor had any resident ever seen or heard of such a road in that area.
The Coldstreamers, realizing that their honor was now in question, returned to the same area a few days later. In an effort to prove the existence of the road, they scrupulously searched the entire area. Starting at the site of the positions they had dug only a few nights before, the guardsmen fanned out in a search that covered nearly a mile in all directions. No road was ever found.
Psalm 18:3
I will call upon the LORD who is worthy to be praised: so shall I be saved from mine enemies.
Jennifer Van Allen
www.theprodigalpig.com
www.faithincounseling.org
