God is so smart!
I am worried about Syrian Girl, Assad, and True Syrians; not the NATO and Obama backed FSA. I believe her.
Below you will find a letter written by a young marine to his mother after being wounded on a Korean battlefield in 1950. The Navy chaplain, Father Walter Muddy, to whom the letter was shown, thoroughly checked the facts with the young Marine and the sergeant in whose patrol he had served. Having concluded, that the facts mentioned in the letter had actually occurred, Father Muddy made the letter public in 1951 before a gathering of 5,000 Marines at the Navla base in San Diego, California. Since then the letter has been published in newspapers and magazines, read on the radio and television, all over the world:
I wouldn’t dare write this letter to anyone but you because no one else would believe it. Maybe even you will find it hard but I have got to tell somebody.
First off, I am in a hospital. Now don’t worry, ya hear me, don’t worry. I was wounded but I am okay you understand. Okay. The doctor says that I will be up and around in a month.
But that is not what I want to tell you.
Remember when I joined the Marines last year; remember when I left, how you told me to say a prayer to St. Michael every day. You really didn’t have to tell me that. Ever since I can remember you always told me to pray to St. Michael the Archangel. You even named me after him. Well I always have.
When I got to Korea, I prayed even harder. Remember the prayer that you taught me?
“Michael, Michael of the morning fresh crop of Heaven adorning,” you know the rest of it. Well I said it everyday. Sometimes when I was marching or sometimes resting. But always before I went to sleep. I even got some of the other fellas to say it.
Well, one day I was with an advance detail way up over the front lines. We were scouting for the Commies. I was plodding along in the bitter cold, my breath was like cigar smoke.
I thought I knew every guy in the patrol, when along side of me comes another Marine I never met before. He was bigger than any other Marine I’d ever seen. He must have been 6′ 4″ and built in proportion. It gave me a feeling of security to have such a body near.
Anyway, there we were trudging along. The rest of the patrol spread out. Just to start a conversation I said, “Cold ain’t it.” And then I laughed. Here I was with a good chance of getting killed any minute and I am talking about the weather.
My companion seemed to understand. I heard him laugh softly.
I looked at him, “I have never seen you before, I thought I knew every man in the outfit.”
“I just joined at the last minute”, he replied. “The name is Michael.”
“Is that so,” I said surprised. “That is my name too.”
“I know,” he said and then went on, “Michael, Michael of the morning . . .”
I was too amazed to say anything for a minute. How did he know my name, and a prayer that you had taught me? Then I smiled to myself, every guy in the outfit knew about me. Hadn’t I taught the prayer to anybody who would listen. Why now and then, they even referred to me as St. Michael.
Neither of us spoke for a time and then he broke the silence. “We are going to have some trouble up ahead.”
He must have been in fine physical shape or he was breathing so lightly I couldn’t see his breath. Mine poured out in great clouds. There was no smile on his face now. Trouble ahead, I thought to myself, well with the Commies all around us, that is no great revelation.
Snow began to fall in great thick globs. In a brief moment the whole countryside was blotted out. And I was marching in a white fog of wet sticky particles. My companion disappeared.
“Michael, ” I shouted in sudden alarm.
I felt his hand on my arm, his voice was rich and strong, “This will stop shortly.”
His prophecy proved to be correct. In a few minutes the snow stopped as abruptly as it had begun. The sun was a hard shining disc.
I looked back for the rest of the patrol, there was no one in sight. We lost them in that heavy fall of snow. I looked ahead as we came over a little rise.
Mom, my heart stopped. There were seven of them. Seven Commies in their padded pants and jackets and their funny hats. Only there wasn’t anything funny about them now. Seven rifles were aimed at us.
“Down Michael, ” I screamed and hit the frozen earth.
I heard those rifles fire almost as one. I heard the bullets. There was Michael still standing.
Mom, those guys couldn’t have missed, not at that range. I expected to see him literally blown to bits.
But there he stood, making no effort to fire himself. He was paralyzed with fear. It happens sometimes, Mom, even to the bravest. He was like a bird fascinated by a snake.
At least, that was what I thought then. I jumped up to pull him down and that was when I got mine. I felt a sudden flame in my chest. I often wondered what it felt like to be hit, now I know.
I remember feeling strong arms about me, arms that laid me ever so gently on a pillow of snow. I opened my eyes, for one last look. I was dying. Maybe I was even dead, I remember thinking well, this is not so bad.
Maybe I was looking into the sun. Maybe I was in shock. But it seemed I saw Michael standing erect again only this time his face was shining with a terrible splendor.
As I say, maybe it was the sun in my eyes, but he seemed to change as I watched him. He grew bigger, his arms stretched out wide, maybe it was the snow falling again, but there was a brightness around him like the wings of an Angel. In his hand was a sword. A sword that flashed with a million lights.
Well, that is the last thing I remember until the rest of the fellas came up and found me. I do not know how much time had passed. Now and then I had but a moment’s rest from the pain and fever. I remember telling them of the enemy just ahead.
“Where is Michael,” I asked.
I saw them look at one another. “Where’s who?” asked one. “Michael, Michael that big Marine I was walking with just before the snow squall hit us.”
“Kid,” said the sergeant, “You weren’t walking with anyone. I had my eyes on you the whole time. You were getting too far out. I was just going to call you in when you disappeared in the snow.”
He looked at me, curiously. “How did you do it kid?”
“How’d I do what?” I asked half angry despite my wound. “This marine named Michael and I were just . . .”
“Son, ” said the sergeant kindly, “I picked this outfit myself and there just ain’t another Michael in it. You are the only Mike in it.”
He paused for a minute, “Just how did you do it kid? We heard shots. There hasn’t been a shot fired from your rifle. And there isn’t a bit of lead in them seven bodies over the hill there.”
I didn’t say anything, what could I say. I could only look open-mouthed with amazement. It was then the sergeant spoke again, “Kid,” he said gently, “everyone of those seven Commies was killed by a sword stroke.”
That is all I can tell you Mom. As I say, it may have been the sun in my eyes, it may have been the cold or the pain. But that is what happened.
Saint Michael – Pray for US!
St Michael is the Patron Saint of Soldiers!
“The new documents disprove claims by Obama spokesman Jay Carney, Hillary Clinton, and others that the White House and State Department had virtually nothing to do with rewriting the talking points. Carney maintained that officials from State and the White House were responsible for a “single adjustment” to the language. Clinton insisted that the intelligence community was the “principal decider” of what would be said. But the emails make clear that top White House and State officials played key roles in reshaping the CIA’s initial draft.
“The State Department had major reservations with much or most of the document,” wrote a CIA official from the Office of Public Affairs, at 9:15 p.m. on September 14. “We revised the document with their concerns in mind.”
An official with the CIA’s Office of Terrorism Analysis, where the talking points originated, signed off on the changes but warned that members of the House Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence (HPSCI) wouldn’t be pleased. “They are fine with me. But, pretty sure HPSCI won’t like them. ”
My Two Cents Worth
Liars always get caught, in their webs of deceptions! Mr Carney looks so humiliated by being Obama’s flunky. Must be a challenge, everyday to keep spewing out, one lie after another – for your boss.
Democrats answer to UK????????
Like I said, globalists are pulling Obama’s strings. Remember Libor? Bilderberg? Global Elite?
Their sins make them miserable. So, I will pray for them all, everyday. Love demands we love them, and sacrifice for their salvation. “There but for the Grace of God, go I.” ~ St Francis of Assisi said.
“Liar, liar, pants on fire!” Cops are getting their asses handed to them, by witnesses who called them countless times, that evil was going on in Ariel Castro’s home.
Had those cops done their jobs, this kidnapping of those 3 girls would have been solved, years ago!
The cops are just scared that their jobs are on the line, now. Good. About time they felt the fear these girls, now women felt for years, being abused and treated like animals by this deranged man, Ariel Castro and his brothers.
It is in NATO’s, Israel’s, Muslim Brotherhood’s, FSA, and the Military Industrial Complex’s best interest to do another Bloody Regime Change in yet another more bloody War against SYRIA — but lied about in GLOBAL BLACKOUT OF WHAT REALLY IS GOING ON.
Obama, FSA, NATO, et al are guilty of War Crimes and Regime Changes in Syria, Libya, Tunisia, Bahrain, and Egypt. This is truly evil.
Syria was just fine, until …
Started a war with it’s borders.
Syrian Girl, the daughter of a prominent Syrian, told us the “TRUTH” of what was really going on there, in Syria. She said OBAMA and NATO was LYING!
Please – Don’t believe the lies of Obama or the Global Elites Mega-Media’s Lies. Even Fox News is disseminating Obama’s lies. Shame on Fox News, and conservatives who believe their regurgitated lies from Obama’s Government Controlled Media Propaganda.
Please Pray for Syria!
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