Dream of: 16 December 1995 "Teach Us How To Kill"
I was with a large group of several thousand soldiers dressed in blue uniforms similar to those worn by northern soldiers during the Civil War; but it was quickly evident these weren't northern civil war soldiers. Although they were American soldiers, their enemy wasn't the South, but rather a large group of Indians assembled on our southern flank.
We were preparing to do battle with the Indians. But before we could begin the fight, we needed to attend to another matter: in our midst was a substantial number of British soldiers – all dressed in bright red uniforms – who were called the "Redcoats." A serious decision had to be made: could we trust the Redcoats? It was felt that the Redcoats might actually be the enemies of the Americans, and that if the Redcoats were allowed to remain among us, they might betray us in the middle of the battle with the Indians and turn their guns on us.
The decision was made: all the Redcoats would be arrested and separated from the Americans. The order was given, and before the Redcoats had time to resist, the blue-uniformed American soldiers began stripping away the guns from the Redcoats and rounding up all the Redcoats into one area where they would be detained. I walked among the men, looked at the Redcoats and quipped, "Jolly good. Jolly good."
As I continued to promenade among my fellow soldiers, it was evident they all looked up to me, as if I were the officer in charge. Striding through the men, I soon realized we had another serious problem which must be addressed. On our northern flank was a mountain which loomed over us. High above us, standing along the rim of the mountain, was another large group of Indians. Although I couldn't clearly see the Indians, I knew they were there.
The Indians in the mountain were a different tribe from the Indians whom we were planning to fight in the south; and it was uncertain whether the Indians in the mountain were really our enemies. Many of our own soldiers stationed on our northern flank had actually been in contact with the Indians in the mountain, and had formed a friendship with them. This very day, many of our soldiers were planning to meet with the Indians in the mountain and jointly pray to God.
When I learned of the planned prayer meeting, I was sorely distressed. Could this be some kind of duplicitous trick? I had to make a weighty decision: was I going to allow my men to meet and pray with the Indians in the mountain, or was I going to forbid such a meeting. If I would forbade the meeting, I would also need to also declare the Indians in the mountain to be our enemies, and I would have to order my men to attack and fight the Indians in the mountain.
It was a difficult decision. I was unsure my men would even follow my order if I demanded they fight against the Indians in the mountain. Yet the controlling factor was what would be best for my men. If the Indians in the mountain were insidiously attempting to trick us, the Indians might be able to wipe out the northern sector of the army. If that happened, in the future the "North" wouldn't be able to assemble the kind of army it would latter need. I couldn't let that happen; I could take no risk that my men would be destroyed by some subterfuge of the Indians.
I knew my men were a spiritual lot, and I knew they wanted to pray with the Indians. But I must not allow it. I determined that we would pray, but for something quite different. I shouted out, announcing my decision that the Indians on the mountain, as well as the Indians in the south, were our enemies, and we must fight them all. As my men gathered all around me, I cried out, "Pray to God to teach us how to kill!"
My men immediately understood me. Although I could sense their sorrow, there was no question whether they would follow my order: they would fight and kill the Indians in the mountain.
Now it was time to pray, to pray that God would teach us how to kill. I and all my men who were pressed tightly around me fell down on our knees, turned our heads to the sky and raised our hands in the air. Although I wasn't accustomed to praying, a powerful feeling moved me. Neither I nor my men needed to use any words. Our prayer was clear without words. We were all deeply affected by what we were asking of God. I felt as if God were listening, and would answer our prayer.
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