By Evangelist John BJ Hall
I was at one of my doctor’s offices and met a WWII veteran. I shared with him the following story.
Many brave young men fought for our freedom and against tyranny during World War Two. Harold A. Hall, my father, was on the front lines with no Rest and Recuperation for thirty-four months. He was among the first US troops in battle against Germany when the 773rd Tank Destroyer Battalion invaded North Africa prior to the invasion at Normandy.
Communications in the European Theater of Conflict were atrocious. No lines of communication had been established and the radios that were available were inadequate for the task. Toward the end of the war, as they were pushing from Italy into the Battle of the Bulge, the commander of the 773rd ordered the battalion to stand down. He then told my father to run ahead on foot and try to find an infantry battalion that was to join them in a joint action.
As he was running he saw a German soldier in the hedge rows. He ducked down and decided to follow that soldier for a bit. The soldier headed into a camp and Daddy was in the bushes watching. It turned out that the camp was a German headquarters group. They had the flaps up on the tent and even though he could not understand German, he could read maps. The headquarters group was planning an attack on the very infantry battalion he was looking for.
He ran hard back to the commander and told him what he had seen. The commander said, “SSgt Hall, lead us in and stop 2 clicks (kilometers) from the camp.” When they stopped, the commander had the battalion surround the camp with the tank destroyers, all pointing their three inch naval guns into the camp.
When everyone was in place the commander got on the “bull horn” and said, “This is Colonel Stevens of the 773rd Tank Destroyer Battalion of Patton’s Third Army. You are completely surrounded.” He continued, “If you desire to live, lay down your weapons and march out of the camp. The entire headquarters group did exactly as they were told and were taken prisoner without a single shot being fired.
When I finished the story he sat there with his mouth open and eyes wide. He said, “I was in the infantry battalion your father was looking for.” He said, “Because of your father’s action I am alive today.” He said that he knew the events I described had taken place but he had never met anyone directly connected to those who prevented the attack on the infantry battalion.
He thanked me with a tear falling down his cheek. I responded, “No, Don’t thank me. It was my father who did it. I thank you and all those who fought so valiantly for my freedom”
His life was bought with the price of my father running on foot and “happening upon” the camp.
Each of us has been bought with a price. A far greater price than thirty-four months and running through the hedge rows of Europe. Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 6:20 (NASB) “For you have been bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body.”
You see, we are not our own, we have been redeemed. But while we sing "Jesus Paid It All" let us remember the next line, "All to Him I owe." Certain obligations grow out of our being bought with a price. Such love demands my soul, my life, my all. As a result we are to glorify God in body and spirit—our selves—because we belong to Him (1 Cor. 6:19, 20).
We are also to glorify Him in our service: "Ye are bought with a price; be not ye the servants of men" (1 Cor. 7:23).
And finally, Peter tells us that since we have been redeemed with the precious blood of Christ, we are to pass the time of our abiding here in fear (1 Peter 1:17-21).
Self, service, abiding—all to Him I owe, because He paid it all. While we sing about the price that He paid, we had better check on what God expects for us, not to repay Him, but as the expression of our heart's love to Him who redeemed us.
The following poem was written by me in honor of my mother and father for their 60th wedding anniversary. Both of them have taken their journey to Heavenly shores and have been enjoying a great reunion day before their Lord and Savior.
My Heritage
He was raised up in a time of woe.
There were hardships all around.
On a sandy land farm, he did grow,
As he worked and tilled the ground.
His family was so filled with love,
It mattered not they were poor.
For their love was given from above,
And it grew there even more.
As he grew up and became a man,
He met a wonderful girl.
Soon he would stand and take her hand,
And promise her the world.
They dedicated their hearts and home,
To service for our Savior.
And through their home God’s love was shown,
Through word and through behavior.
What better heritage is there,
To pass on to our children,
Than teaching how to love and share,
God’s love with family and friend.
© Copyright 1998 by Passages Ministries. All rights reserved.
For permission to use this poem contact Passages Ministries.