The Wings of Morning (43 page)

“
Scham
,” he whispered, but everyone could hear him. “
Scham, Scham.” Shame, shame
.

He walked to the front and faced the people on the benches. “How quick we are to condemn. How quick to find fault. To point the finger. To blame. To cast the stone. Eh? Each of us eager to become an accuser of the brethren. But it is
we
who must confess, not Jude Whetstone. Oh yes, Mother, Father, I, your son David. Mr. and Mrs. Beiler, your son Jacob. And Mr. and Mrs. Harshberger, your son, yes, your only son, Jonathan. We have fallen short of the righteousness of God. We have fallen far.” He looked at Pastor Miller. “Even Sam.” Then he went to his knees as tears began to come.

“Forgive us our sins. Forgive us our trespasses.”

Jacob and Jonathan came to the front and slowly went to their knees alongside David, their faces deeply flushed as they did so. Their voices joined his, weakly at first, then gradually growing stronger as they repeated the phrases four times—“Forgive us our sins. Forgive us our trespasses.”

“Bishop Zook,” David said, his cheeks glistening, “we should have come to you long ago, months ago, but we were afraid. We should have given our fear to the One who casts out fear, but instead we held onto it and it poisoned us. Now we will tell you. We
must
tell you. We must save our souls. We must confess publicly before the whole church while there still is a church to confess to.” He hesitated, as if he wanted to change his mind, then shook his head. “
Nein
,” he said aloud to himself. “I will speak.”

He looked at the faces before him. “All of us visited Hosea before he died. The first day he took sick—you will remember, Bishop Zook—all of us came to see him and pray for him—Jonathan, Jacob, myself, Samuel too. And Hosea told us—told us—that Jude had been
ordered
to enlist. At the camp where we were all imprisoned. Jude had been told if he did not join up, if he did not fly for the army, they would keep us in the camp until the war ended or until we were all dead.

“The rest of us were too far away to hear this conversation. But Hosea approached Jude after he had spoken with a general and that is when Jude said he had decided to join up. Hosea suspected he had been coerced because he could not believe he would ever do this thing willingly. He confronted Jude about joining the army and tried to get the truth out of him, but he kept evading Hosea’s questions. Then this general came over and said Jude was doing this of his own free will and that if it ever got out that he had been forced to enlist it could go hard on us, and not only us, our parents, our families, the whole colony. We might be arrested and beaten again. Hosea was warned that Hutterites had been killed and Mennonite meeting houses burned to the ground. English neighbors would do nothing to protect those who spoke German, they would not stand up for those who did not fight or salute the flag. Did we not pray about just such things when we met for worship during the first summer of the war?

“So Hosea took the threats seriously. Then and there, he chose to believe Jude had wanted to go to war, had wanted to fly in France, had wanted to fight. He told us it was what he made himself believe because he was afraid the Amish in Paradise would be persecuted if he didn’t. But in his heart, all along, he knew the truth. Jude enlisted not only to save the three of us here, and Hosea and Sam, but to save all of you, to save the whole community. He went to war so that war would not be made upon us.”

Lyyndaya could scarcely breathe.
Oh, Jude, my poor man, I knew there was something—my father knew, Bishop Zook knew, but still, this is too much, it is far beyond what we thought
. The silence in the barn had weight and it was pressing down upon her, upon them all, taking away their air. But David wasn’t finished. He found Jude with his eyes.

“I’m sorry, my brother. Hosea made us promise we would tell the church what you had been forced to do. But after his death, when we talked among ourselves, we grew worried that what Hosea had feared could still come upon us. After all, the war showed no signs of stopping. What if the truck and the corporal came for us again? What if they came for our fathers? What if they made sure no one would buy our milk or our barley or wheat? Sam—God have mercy—Sam led the way in this and talked us into going along.
Better Jude than the rest of the colony
, he argued. So we said nothing. God forgive us, we said nothing. My brother, we left you to this…disgrace.”

Jude stood up. Lyyndaya saw Pastor Miller briefly before others blocked her view with their heads and backs. He was so pale she thought he was going to collapse.

“No, David,” said Jude. “I should be asking your forgiveness. You mustn’t torment yourself like this. I could have told the truth. I could have told the whole story at any time. But, like you, I was afraid that certain people in certain places would take matters into their own hands if I spoke out and that there would be repercussions. I, like you, was afraid our people would be persecuted, that more persons would be hurt just as we had been hurt in that camp. So I said nothing. I decided to make the best of it. I thought,
If Jesus had been forced to do what I am forced to do, how would he have handled it, how would he have flown, how would he have tried to alter a war from the inside out?
I suspect he would have done a much better job. I’m sorry I have made such a hash of things.”

Then he walked toward Pastor Miller, and stopped in front of the man. “Pastor, I am sorry for the heartache I’ve caused. I didn’t know what else to do. I, like David, wish I had given my fear to the One who casts out all fear. But, as much as I hated war, I could never repent of enlisting, I could not in good conscience say I should never have joined up, because that would have meant I repented of trying to save my brothers in that camp, that I repented of trying to save the people of this colony, that I repented of trying to save your son Joshua—and I couldn’t say that. Before God I could not say that. Nevertheless, I ask you to forgive me. I ask you all to forgive me.”

Pastor Miller stood. “You ask for forgiveness. It is swiftly and freely given. But it is all of us you must forgive, my son. It is I, this foolish man, you must forgive.” Then he took Jude into his arms and broke down.

There were few people who were not groaning or shedding tears. Half of the church was on its feet, moving toward Jude to hug him and speak with him and ask his forgiveness, while at the same time he was asking forgiveness of all who came to him. Lyyndaya had never seen anything like it. A few minutes before she had been certain the church was splitting in two. Now she realized how strong it really was. How the confession of the young men had turned the weakness of the colony into a strength.

I am standing on holy ground
.

Only a few people saw the barn door open, and only a few heard Lyyndaya’s brother Daniel, now eleven, say to Bishop Zook, “Sir, the whole yard is full of soldiers.”

A few heads turned in shock and sudden fear even as men and women farther from the door gathered around Jude with tears and prayers. The bishop put his large hand on Daniel’s shoulder and said, “I know, my boy. I have been watching them gather for the past ten minutes from that window there.”

His face was grim. “Open the door, Daniel. We will not be afraid of what man may do to us. Our hope is in the Lord God who made heaven and earth. Yes, go ahead, open it wide, let them in, there has been enough fear and trembling among our people for the past two years. It is time to put it to rest once and for all. There are many ways of fighting for your country, Daniel. Today we will show the soldiers our way.”

L
yyndaya watched with apprehension as dozens of men in brown uniforms entered the barn. They fanned out and filled the space at the front, where the bishop was standing and David Hostetler, Jacob Beiler, and Jonathan Harshberger were still kneeling. Behind them came a tall lean man with a dark tan and sharp features. A gold star glittered on each side of his collar.

“Which one of you is Bishop Zook?” he asked.

The bishop stepped forward. “I am.”

“Bishop, I fear we are interrupting your religious ceremonies.”

“That is so.”

“However, I was given to understand you had meetings to deal with church issues twice a year and this is one of those days.”

“That is also true.”

“Then I ask permission to speak at this meeting. Does it by any chance have to do with Jude Whetstone and whether or not Amish boys should serve their country in a combat role during a time of war?”

“Among other things, yes.”

The man removed his large, broad-brimmed hat. “I’m General Omar Jackson, U.S. Army Air Service. I’ve been ordered to bear a message to you and your people from the government of the United States of America.”

All the crying and talking in the barn had stopped and every head was turned toward the officer and his men. He tugged a folded sheet of paper from a breast pocket and began to read. But, after only a few seconds, he raised his eyes to his listeners and never returned them to the paper. Lyyndaya realized he had the document memorized. Or perhaps he was simply saying what he felt must be said.

“Some of your young men were refused the religious exemption from military service guaranteed the Amish people by act of Congress and the President of the United States. It was your constitutional right, one of the reasons our men fought in Europe in 1917 and 1918. Yet it was violated and your young men were harmed. The command to arrest your young men was undertaken without the authority or knowledge of the highest branches of the United States Army or the White House or the Congress of the United States. Nevertheless—”

The general paused, his eyes running over the Amish people clustered in front of him, the children, the women, the men. Then he folded up the paper and tucked it away in his pocket again. His eyes remain fixed on the faces before him, young and old.

“Nevertheless,” he resumed, “it happened on our watch. It happened on my watch. Major Whetstone!”

Jude came forward and stood at attention in front of the general. He saluted and the salute was returned.

“Stand easy, Whetstone.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It was so arranged by various officers in the United States Army that your friends and neighbors, other young men your age, be arrested and detained at a military base until such time as you agreed to fly in a combat role for the United States and her allies. To that end you and your friends were denied food and proper clothing, and were beaten and subjected to abuse until you turned your back on your religious convictions to save your men’s lives. No man willingly goes against what makes him tick, Whetstone—no man easily goes against what he believes in his heart and soul.”

“No, sir.”

“You and your men were then threatened that if word of this act of coercion on the part of certain officers in the United States Army became common knowledge, your families and community would be at risk. Taking the bit in your teeth, Whetstone, you said nothing, but chose to serve in France and take to the skies to fight the German Empire.

“You were an Amish boy and you had no business being there. Frankly, I didn’t think you could cut it. I thought you would turn tail and run. Then I could have court-martialed you and sent you home in disgrace. But you fooled me, Whetstone. Me, America, and the whole German Empire. You flew like the wind and you fought in your own fashion and in so doing you proved not only the courage and faith of the Amish people, but brought a peculiar distinction to American arms they had scarcely known before—bloodless victories. For a second time, you saved the lives of men you had with you. You made me into a believer, Whetstone. And a general.”

Jude smiled a quiet smile at this.

“You people,” the general said, looking out over the church again. “Your courage is one of the reasons for the greatness of America. I know you don’t care for the military man or his duties. Nevertheless I salute you. Whether you believe it or not, every time our army fights it fights so you can say no to warfare on behalf of America.”

General Jackson came to attention and held a salute, Lyyndaya estimated, for a full minute. She knew the Amish should feel nothing at being saluted by an American soldier, certainly not excitement or pride, yet she felt both.

Still holding the salute, the general continued, “I apologize for the way your boys were treated. I apologize for the threat leveled against your community’s religious freedoms and right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I apologize for the coercion of one of your finest men, Jude Whetstone. On behalf of the army and government of the United States of America—I am sorry.” He dropped his salute smartly, and Lyyndaya finally took in a big breath of air.

“One more thing, Bishop Zook, before we go, if I may,” the general said.