The skeletal Nazi platoon was surrounded. There was no escape for these men who had futilely sought to hold back the surge of the Sons of Liberty.
Through the night air, a poorly amplified voice, in smooth English, speaks out, “Please, Americans, just put down your guns first and we promise that we’ll surrender. You have our word.”
Frank looked at Bob Lee. “Did that Kraut just tell us to put down our guns? Isn’t it the other way around? They’re skunked.”
Both men overheard Captain Sobel, to their right, talking about the Nazi demand with Lieutenant Umbrage, seemingly intrigued by it. Bob Lee stomped over, completely beside himself that the ridiculous terms put forward by the Kraut were even being discussed.
“Captain, with all due respect, sir, the Krauts are in no position to dictate terms. We are the winners. They’re surrounded. It is they who must surrender or die to the last man. And, sir, we are American soldiers, dagummit, not French. We don’t lay down our guns when victory is ours.”
Christian, you do know that you have been enlisted by King Jesus to be a soldier in his service, right? You do know that he has secured total victory, right? You do know that our enemies have nothing but surrender or destruction to choose from, right? You do know that we are more than conquerors, our victory and glory rendering pale all other campaigns and conquests, from Washington, to Xerxes, to Alexander, to Napoleon, to Khan, right?
So if those opposed to your King ask, or even dare to snottily demand, that you put down your weapon, your sword, wielded in your evangelistic preaching, why in the world would you dream of giving their request the slightest consideration?
Hold your sword. Wield it valiantly until that hour when you return to the dirt or the sun sets for the final time.
Never stop preaching the gospel. For the honor of the King, your sword is meant for your calloused hands, not the dew of the grass.