Comment: Patriotic reflections from a World War II perspective

Hailing from tiny Big Sandy, Tenn., my daddy, Bernard Payne, was a brave paratrooper during World War II with a unit that later became the 82nd Airborne out of Fort Campbell.

Like most stoic soldiers of this era, he later spoke little of the war. But among his adventurous wartime escapades his children and grandchildren managed to coerce from him over a lifetime, we heard he jumped near the Rhine River in Germany behind enemy lines, had a radio shot off his back, had a bullet shot through his helmet, fought in the Battle of the Bulge, spoke with Gen. Eisenhower on two occasions and rode with Gen. Patton on a trip to replace the radio that was shot off his back so he could return to the front lines faster.

Once, while impersonating German officers, he and a friend who spoke fluent German crossed over the border at Berlin for a night of partying. However, these are stories for another time. Though Daddy did not accept Jesus as his Lord and Savior until a few years after returning from the war, it was apparent that God kept his hand of protection on Daddy during this time.

One story that was etched into my being as a child is the one Daddy told me about a courageous young woman whom he heard speak after World War II ended. She presented her Christian testimony at a religious gathering, and she had scars in the shape of crosses burned all over her body! She was a German Christian who had been captured and tortured for her faith.

Every day, her captors took her out and gave her a choice—Hitler or Christ! Every day—day-in and day-out—this lady, with a bravery that defies human comprehension, chose her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Each day she responded with “Jesus Christ,” causing her captors to sear a little piece of a cross on her body. Keeping in mind the excruciating pain that one tiny burn creates, aside from the power of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, it is beyond explanation how this young woman could have allowed herself to be burned undoubtedly dozens or even hundreds of times—to have created crosses all over her body. Then to consider conditions she probably was enduring and not having proper care for the burns is unthinkable. Seemingly endless torture.

I always have hoped someday I would find further information about this nameless saint. When I get to heaven, I hope to meet her and thank her for the inspiration she has been in my life—and undoubtedly in the lives of my dad and anyone else who heard her testimony.

I often pondered whether I would be found faithful given a similar torturous choice. I can never think of this dear saint without tears coming to my eyes.

It certainly is something to reflect upon on this Independence Day, when, at least for now, we still have some semblance of religious freedom in this country. Let us use and defend our freedoms wisely, responsibly and vehemently. Let us take a moment to reflect on the sacrifices of countless brave soldiers spanning America’s history and brave Christians the world over who have gone before us and thank the Lord Jesus Christ for the freedom we enjoy today.

Perhaps, most importantly of all, never take our freedoms for granted! They were truly bought with an inestimable price!

Cathy Drewry is a homemaker and freelance editor/academic formatter for graduate students and a member of Southwayside Baptist Church in Fort Worth, Texas.  © Cathy Payne Drewry, used by permission.