Each year as a part of my JMU Lifelong Learning Institute class, "Mennonites in the Valley," Ruth Stoltzfus Jost joins us at the grave site of two-year-old John Brunk at the Bank Mennonite Church cemetery, where she sings the following piece written by her sister Helen about their great-grandmother Susanna Heatwole Brunk's experience during and following the Civil War. It is printed here with Helen's kind permission:
THE BALLAD OF GREAT-GRANDMOTHER SUSANNA
by Helen Stoltzfus
In the valley of Virginia,
my great-grandmother Susanna
met and married Henry Brunk.
They had a son.
But not long thereafter the Civil War broke out.
Henry felt he could not stay true to Christ and be a soldier.
He, along with 69 other young men, rode out
of the war zone
hoping to escape.
They were captured by Confederate soldiers who demanded that they surrender their arms.
They surrendered their Bibles.
The Confederate soldiers took their horses and put the men in prison. They gave them three choices
One: Put on uniforms and take up arms; Two: haul supplies as non-combatants, or Three: stay in prison.
I have a young wife and a baby son. I will haul supplies as a non-combatant.
But Henry's conscience still bothered him. He felt that he was still a part of this machinery of war. One day he simply left his team of horses in the field and walked out through the orchard and the woods, a deserter, with a price on his head.
He hid in attics of kind strangers, weaving willow baskets to earn money, while Susanna, pregnant, cared for their son John. One day, one day - she gave birth to a daughter, Sarah. But not long thereafter their son John died.
Henry heard the news. At the funeral, he knew the Confederate spies were there to track him down. So he had to hide at his own son's funeral. Standing in the back like a stranger, leaving before the last hymn was sung.
And Susanna stood alone at her son's grave.
Henry and 17 young men managed to escape to the North. Henry sent a message to Susanna: Meet me in Hagerstown!
She put her possessions in a spring wagon and set out with her baby and her sister. They rode northward into war territory.
Suddenly they were surrounded by Confederate soldiers who seized Susanna's horse. At the same moment, the Union army began to close in on them.
"Yanks, the Yanks are coming! Follow us!!!"
(as Susanna) "I'll do no such thing!"
And since the Confederates were fleeing from the Union Army, they had no time to force her to follow them. So she rode on, continuing northward.
She was almost at Hagerstown. She only had to cross the Shenandoah River.
But when she reached Harper's Ferry the bridge was burning.
Behind her were Confederate soldiers, before her a burning bridge, a baby in her arms.
A miller appeared. He showed her a place where others had managed to cross. She plunged her spring wagon into the Shenandoah and crossed safely.
She arrived in Hagerstown.
"But will I find Henry?"
She rode down the street. She looked from left to right. She passed a store front, glanced in the window at a shoemaker repairing shoes. Henry looked up. Their eyes met.
The story doesn't end there. They moved to Illinois. Susanna, age 26, bore five more children in the next eight years. Then, like many others, they decided to move west to Kansas in a covered wagon.
Even though the Civil War had ended, the feelings of resentment were still very strong between the North and the South. Missouri was a slave state. Kansas, a free state. The Missourians refused to let settlers, on their way to the "free" state of Kansas, drink water from their wells.
So Susanna, pregnant, Henry, and their six children drank from the streams and the ponds.
When they arrived in Kansas, Henry unhitched the horse, turned them out to graze, built a wigwam shelter made of boards, and lay beneath it. He never got up again. He died of typhoid fever.
In the next six months, three of Susanna's seven children died of typhoid fever.
My grandfather remembers his mother, my great-grandmother Susanna. She is leaning over the kitchen table, tears streaming down her face. Silently she cuts up her husband's suit to make clothes for her children.
Her ten-year-old son took work in a mill. Then in the middle of the night, men came knocking on her door. "Mother, mother, your son has been hurt. He fell asleep, his arm got caught in the wheel."
They brought him in from town and laid him on that same kitchen table and cut off his arm.
It is told how near the end of her life, she ironed a dress, but left the ruffles, the beautiful ruffles... unironed.
The following is an additional stanza written by Ruth Soltzfus Jost:
In later years, she told these stories to her grandchildren.
They remember many Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners at her prairie home.
They remember the little cakes she sent home with them after a visit.
And though they could never remember her singing before,
When the end came, she sang.
She asked her family to sing.
She asked her doctor to help sing.
And they all sang her favorite song,
"Oh happy day that fixed my choice
On thee, my Savior and my God."
Showing posts with label opposition to war. Show all posts
Showing posts with label opposition to war. Show all posts
Friday, March 30, 2012
Friday, March 23, 2012
Why I'm Already Against the Next War
The world was shocked at the news of the alleged shooting of 17 Afghan civilians recently by Army Staff Sgt. Robert Bales. What doesn’t get equal press is the almost routine “collateral damage” inflicted on innocent civilians through drone strikes, artillery attacks, land mines and other inevitable outcomes of war. Victims suffer in unimaginably horrific ways, with limbs, bones and body parts shattered, burned, severed and mingled with the precious blood of human victims, all of them God’s children.
It’s time we declare war itself as the enemy and every kind of violence as evil, no matter for what cause or under whose flag. The devastation done to victim and perpetrator alike is profound and simply unacceptable by any standard of civilized society. Killing is just wrong, period, whether of civilians or combatants.
In a January 16, 2012 interview in Time magazine, Navy SEAL Chris Hyle, recipient of two Silver Stars in Iraq, and author of the book “American Sniper,” admits that his combat experience still makes him easily startled when he is awakened at night or hears loud sounds that remind him of his time in active duty. Hyle holds the dubious record for the highest confirmed number of enemy killed in that conflict, 160 in all, and states, “The first time, you’re not even sure you can do it. But I’m not over there looking at those people as people. I’m not wondering if he has a family. I’m just trying to keep my guys safe.”
In one case he admits he shot a woman with a toddler because she had a grenade in her hand, but drew a line at shooting a child holding an RPG launcher. “I just couldn’t kill the kid,” he admitted. “He’ll probably grow up to fight us, but I just didn’t want to do it.” “(But) every time I kill someone (a combatant), he can’t plant an IED. You don’t think twice about it.”
As much as I want to respect service men and women who are putting their lives at risk every day in military service, there’s something chilling about the institution of war itself and the way it brainwashes people into behaving in ways that are directly counter to the values most of us have been taught all of our lives. Like never initiating violence against another human being, and using preventive force only in those rare instances when your own life or those of others are in imminent danger.
If civilization is to survive, we must all promote the supreme value of loving every human neighbor everywhere as ourselves. Otherwise, the more we resort to war as a necessary evil, the more necessary it becomes and the less evil it seems.
That’s is why I chose the bumper sticker “I’m already against the next war” for the back of my pickup.
P. S. In an earlier piece, "Saying No To War," I share more of my views on the Biblical case against violence.
It’s time we declare war itself as the enemy and every kind of violence as evil, no matter for what cause or under whose flag. The devastation done to victim and perpetrator alike is profound and simply unacceptable by any standard of civilized society. Killing is just wrong, period, whether of civilians or combatants.
In a January 16, 2012 interview in Time magazine, Navy SEAL Chris Hyle, recipient of two Silver Stars in Iraq, and author of the book “American Sniper,” admits that his combat experience still makes him easily startled when he is awakened at night or hears loud sounds that remind him of his time in active duty. Hyle holds the dubious record for the highest confirmed number of enemy killed in that conflict, 160 in all, and states, “The first time, you’re not even sure you can do it. But I’m not over there looking at those people as people. I’m not wondering if he has a family. I’m just trying to keep my guys safe.”
In one case he admits he shot a woman with a toddler because she had a grenade in her hand, but drew a line at shooting a child holding an RPG launcher. “I just couldn’t kill the kid,” he admitted. “He’ll probably grow up to fight us, but I just didn’t want to do it.” “(But) every time I kill someone (a combatant), he can’t plant an IED. You don’t think twice about it.”
As much as I want to respect service men and women who are putting their lives at risk every day in military service, there’s something chilling about the institution of war itself and the way it brainwashes people into behaving in ways that are directly counter to the values most of us have been taught all of our lives. Like never initiating violence against another human being, and using preventive force only in those rare instances when your own life or those of others are in imminent danger.
If civilization is to survive, we must all promote the supreme value of loving every human neighbor everywhere as ourselves. Otherwise, the more we resort to war as a necessary evil, the more necessary it becomes and the less evil it seems.
That’s is why I chose the bumper sticker “I’m already against the next war” for the back of my pickup.
P. S. In an earlier piece, "Saying No To War," I share more of my views on the Biblical case against violence.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
A Four-Year-Old Talks About War
The following is a condensed version of a piece written by my wife's sister Freda Zehr of Greenwood, Delaware, describing a conversation she had some time ago with her grandson.
If only every four-year-old could be assured that there could never be a war where there were children. Meanwhile, he's just trusting that no caring, sensible adults would ever let that happen.
Dax Talks About War - Freda Zehr
My young grandson Dax saw a picture in the paper some time ago of a football star planning to enlist in the army. Evidently he had been worrying about people having to go to war and fight, so he asked, "Do soldiers just kill the bad guys?"
Without waiting for an answer, he went on, "The reason I don't want to be a soldier is because I wouldn't know who the bad guys or the good guys are, so I might shoot the wrong person. And I wouldn’t want to even shoot a bad guy, anyway.”
Then he said, reassuringly, “There is never any war in this country. It’s only over in countries where there are no children.” His voice suggested an urgent note of “I hope so, I hope so.”
He went on, “Because the reason you can't have a war where children live is because you might kill them by accident." He then added, "Oh yes, I forgot, there was a war once in this country, but that was before any children lived here, because I saw the cannon down in Harrisonburg. They shot big things out of it, but it didn’t hit any children because there were no children living here then. It was about a million years ago."
"And anyway, I could never be a soldier,” he went on, “because you have to have millions of money to fly over in those jets and I don't have any money, and daddy and mommy don't have enough money for me to do that. Besides, all the wars will be over by the time I grow up, right Grandma?"
“I certainly hope so,” I said.
"And you know,” he said, “I will be too short to be a soldier when I grow up, because my mom is short and my daddy is not tall."
Meanwhile, having scanned more of the article, I told him, "Oh, here it says this man didn’t have to go to war after all. It says that he had a bad knee that got hurt in a football game."
“So I don't need to worry do I, grandma, because you have to have good knees, and I have a sore knee (no one had heard this before), and you have to have lots of money and you have to be real, real tall like Uncle Jay (who is six-foot-four) and anyway, there will never be any more wars by the time I grow up."
Later when his mother came home from work, he said, "Guess what, mommy, I don't have to go to war because I have a bad knee and when I jump on it, it hurts. Watch this, mommy, see?" whereupon he climbed up on a table and jumped off and then rubbed his knee. "See that really hurt my knee, so grandma said I don't need to go to war and be a soldier."
No one remembered ever having talked with Dax about the subject of becoming a soldier, though his parents assumed he had picked up snatches from the news and maybe from other children at day care. His mother did recall his asking about the cannon in front of the former Harrisonburg High School.
If only every four-year-old could be assured that there could never be a war where there were children. Meanwhile, he's just trusting that no caring, sensible adults would ever let that happen.
Dax Talks About War - Freda Zehr
My young grandson Dax saw a picture in the paper some time ago of a football star planning to enlist in the army. Evidently he had been worrying about people having to go to war and fight, so he asked, "Do soldiers just kill the bad guys?"
Without waiting for an answer, he went on, "The reason I don't want to be a soldier is because I wouldn't know who the bad guys or the good guys are, so I might shoot the wrong person. And I wouldn’t want to even shoot a bad guy, anyway.”
Then he said, reassuringly, “There is never any war in this country. It’s only over in countries where there are no children.” His voice suggested an urgent note of “I hope so, I hope so.”
He went on, “Because the reason you can't have a war where children live is because you might kill them by accident." He then added, "Oh yes, I forgot, there was a war once in this country, but that was before any children lived here, because I saw the cannon down in Harrisonburg. They shot big things out of it, but it didn’t hit any children because there were no children living here then. It was about a million years ago."
"And anyway, I could never be a soldier,” he went on, “because you have to have millions of money to fly over in those jets and I don't have any money, and daddy and mommy don't have enough money for me to do that. Besides, all the wars will be over by the time I grow up, right Grandma?"
“I certainly hope so,” I said.
"And you know,” he said, “I will be too short to be a soldier when I grow up, because my mom is short and my daddy is not tall."
Meanwhile, having scanned more of the article, I told him, "Oh, here it says this man didn’t have to go to war after all. It says that he had a bad knee that got hurt in a football game."
“So I don't need to worry do I, grandma, because you have to have good knees, and I have a sore knee (no one had heard this before), and you have to have lots of money and you have to be real, real tall like Uncle Jay (who is six-foot-four) and anyway, there will never be any more wars by the time I grow up."
Later when his mother came home from work, he said, "Guess what, mommy, I don't have to go to war because I have a bad knee and when I jump on it, it hurts. Watch this, mommy, see?" whereupon he climbed up on a table and jumped off and then rubbed his knee. "See that really hurt my knee, so grandma said I don't need to go to war and be a soldier."
No one remembered ever having talked with Dax about the subject of becoming a soldier, though his parents assumed he had picked up snatches from the news and maybe from other children at day care. His mother did recall his asking about the cannon in front of the former Harrisonburg High School.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Ten Reasons Not to Invade Iraq
Eight years ago I wrote the following letter that appeared in the March 8, 2003, Daily News-Record, twelve days before the US invasion of Iraq:
Editor, DNR:
Here is my list of the top ten groups opposed to the use of bombs and missiles (weapons of massive destruction) to depose Saddam Hussein:
10. Fiscal conservatives: It’s irresponsible to spend $100 billion we don’t have on this kind of blitzkrieg--and that is if all goes as planned. It may cost untold billions more to win this war and to keep the peace.
9. Die-hard pessimists: Nothing will go as planned, and we could be getting ourselves into another Vietnam.
8. Eternal optimists: Saddam, like our former archenemy Fidel, is advancing in years and won’t be around forever. And there are far less costly ways of containing him.
7. Internationalists: Moving forward without stronger support from the UN and other allies will only weaken our much needed influence around the world.
6. Isolationists: We’ve got enough problems at home, and shouldn’t use our defense forces to stir up a hornet’s nest half a world away.
5. Environmentalists: The planet can’t afford this kind of devastation and misuse of its resources.
4. Pro-Israel advocates: Further turmoil in the region could further threaten Israel’s survival.
3. Pro-life advocates: Countless numbers of unborn children will be murdered, and even more of those already born will suffer and die.
2. Pro-peace advocates: Let’s stop resorting to unspeakably barbaric ways of dealing with human conflicts.
1. Followers of Jesus: There are many fellow-believers in Iraq who are our friends. As to our enemies, we are under orders to love them, not kill them.
Editor, DNR:
Here is my list of the top ten groups opposed to the use of bombs and missiles (weapons of massive destruction) to depose Saddam Hussein:
10. Fiscal conservatives: It’s irresponsible to spend $100 billion we don’t have on this kind of blitzkrieg--and that is if all goes as planned. It may cost untold billions more to win this war and to keep the peace.
9. Die-hard pessimists: Nothing will go as planned, and we could be getting ourselves into another Vietnam.
8. Eternal optimists: Saddam, like our former archenemy Fidel, is advancing in years and won’t be around forever. And there are far less costly ways of containing him.
7. Internationalists: Moving forward without stronger support from the UN and other allies will only weaken our much needed influence around the world.
6. Isolationists: We’ve got enough problems at home, and shouldn’t use our defense forces to stir up a hornet’s nest half a world away.
5. Environmentalists: The planet can’t afford this kind of devastation and misuse of its resources.
4. Pro-Israel advocates: Further turmoil in the region could further threaten Israel’s survival.
3. Pro-life advocates: Countless numbers of unborn children will be murdered, and even more of those already born will suffer and die.
2. Pro-peace advocates: Let’s stop resorting to unspeakably barbaric ways of dealing with human conflicts.
1. Followers of Jesus: There are many fellow-believers in Iraq who are our friends. As to our enemies, we are under orders to love them, not kill them.
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