The Unknown Soldiers

No doubt you’ve heard of the Great Ones—Lee and Grant, Montgomery and Rommel. We could add Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, the Duke of Wellington, and David the Giantkiller to the list as well. But how many unknown soldiers have you read about?

During one of our furloughs, almost 20 years ago, my husband and I had the privilege of visiting the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Arlington National Cemetery with some of our extended family. In the open-air setting, we observed the Changing of the Guard, a most solemn and touching ceremony. Even the children remained hushed and impressed, and several of them serve their country in uniform today.

“Many of the bravest never are known, and get no praise, [but] that does not lessen their beauty.” –attributed to Louisa May Alcott

Hundreds—thousands—of unknown soldiers and unsung heroes lie scattered over the pages of church and missionary history. Other spiritual battles, no less fierce and real, involve many of us every day. If you too feel unknown, unsung, unappreciated, and unnoticed—today’s post is meant for you.

Dusty Drama

Recently the publishing director of our mission agency’s magazine asked me to write the long-forgotten story of a young family I’d never heard of. You never have either, I’m certain. Let’s call them Edward and Kate, and their little boy’s name could be Jeremy. Buried in the archives of the previous century, their saga dates back to the decade of the Second World War.

“A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.” –Christopher Reeve

During the summer of D-Day, Edward and Kate and two-year-old Jeremy left their home in the Midwestern United States. They traveled across the country to California where they caught an Argentine steamer, Rio de la Plata, headed down the Pacific coast toward the port of Valparaíso in South America.

Edward and Kate had met as students at Moody Bible Institute in Chicago. Sensing God’s call to serve as missionaries in Chile, they had looked forward to their arrival on the field since graduation in 1943. The right time had come to move ahead—so they thought.

Real perils existed on the seas in those days of wartime conditions, countless delays, and few passenger ships. It was no luxury cruise Edward and Kate set out on. Still, they never expected trouble in port.

Their ship docked briefly in the holiday harbor of Acapulco, Mexico. The family of three decided to go ashore for a few hours, dressed, as Edward later wrote, “in the simplest of summer attire.” As they prepared to board again for lunch and a 2 p.m. sailing, they saw columns of smoke rolling from the stacks and raging flames leaping from the deck. Their ship had caught fire!

Edward and Kate watched from the docks, helpless and aghast, as Río de la Plata burned for several hours and subsequently sank. All their worldly possessions—equipment sacrificially given toward their future ministry plus personal belongings needed immediately—were lost with the ship.

Dogged Determination

While the incident fueled rumors that the steamship carried fleeing Nazi sympathizers, no one ever learned the exact cause of the fire. For Edward and Kate, it became a litmus test, a literal trial by fire.

What would you have done? I admit I might have hopped on the next flight home to reconsider—or at least repack. After all, Hebrews 11:15 reminds us that even the heroes of faith “…might have had opportunity to have returned.”

“Give me 100 men who love nothing but God, hate nothing but evil, and know nothing but Jesus Christ…and I will change the world.” –John Wesley

Yet, instead of turning back, Edward and Kate made a valiant decision to keep going. First of all, they thanked God that the fire had taken place in port and not when they were aboard at sea. Then, unexpectedly, the shipping company reimbursed their passage funds. Next, American authorities in Mexico City arranged priority airplane seats to Santiago. They may have been our first missionaries ever to fly to the field.😊

So, only ten days later, Edward, Kate, and Jeremy resumed their interrupted journey to Chile, landing on September 2^nd with a carry-on bag each. They received a warm welcome from their new co-workers.

But it was not the end of their trials.

Dedicated Duty

During their first year, Edward and Kate studied Spanish while living in a two-room apartment in Temuco, center of the indigenous region of south-central Chile. They became familiar with local mission life and did a lot of “Victrola evangelism”—sharing gospel recordings in homes and public places. Edward drew charts for presentations to the Chilean military. Kate helped visit in Temuco’s slums.

“Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom’d caves of ocean bear: Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air.” —Thomas Gray, Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard

For the next two years, they undertook a fruitful pastoral ministry in the Mapuche village of Puerto Saavedra, on the coast 90 km from Temuco. Edward also participated in periodic outreach trips to the Chiloé Islands. Kate was busier than ever when a new baby, Martin, joined the family.

Then, one illness after another struck their older son Jeremy. After he suffered what seemed to be a relapse of pneumonia in May 1947, Edward and Kate prayed fervently for a day without rain so they could contact a pilot to transport the boy to Temuco for medical attention. (It had rained almost every day that month thus far, and it was a seven-hour trip via boat and train to the city at that time.)

God answered: The rain stopped for one afternoon. The pilot arrived and flew Kate and Jeremy to Temuco in 30 minutes. But he had never received their telegram and come for another purpose entirely. “Before they call, I will answer…”

Deep Doubts

Then little Jeremy came down with typhoid, followed by a long bout of rheumatic fever. A fellow missionary wrote, “His life was almost gone, and he but a shadow of the healthy boy they had brought to Chile.” At this difficult juncture, Edward and Kate decided to return to their homeland to seek specialists’ advice. They had spent just over three years in South America.

Back in the United States, the family kept up their language skills in a Spanish ministry among Mexican migrants in Colorado. While they worked faithfully, their leave of absence stretched into nearly a decade. But their hearts never left Chile.

Eight years after their departure, God reopened the door. Edward and Kate joyfully sailed back “home” in January of 1956 with Jeremy, Martin, and three-year old Cheryl. What excitement to revisit the Chilean Christians they had known before.

Edward and Kate accepted the huge challenge of overseeing the mission headquarters—two multiple-story buildings in downtown Temuco, where the comings and goings never ceased. Kate smiled as she described the buzz of activity at the hub: “Imagine a church, hotel, conference hall, purchasing agency, moving and storage, DIY sewing to mechanics, promotion and counseling—all under one roof, it would give you an idea of headquarters.”

“My wife was as much of a soldier as I was.” –Zachary Taylor, U.S. president and general

In addition, Edward took on the pastorate at the first mission church in the city. He served on the Field Council, supervised rural schools and churches, and held preaching campaigns in the Andes Mountains with Moody science films and his “sound truck.”

Dreaded Disease

Back in Temuco, Kate got involved with rescue-mission work in The Flats, a poor section of the city. She hosted the wedding of a Chilean pastor, an ordination, the pastors’ and missionaries’ conference, a women’s conference, and a winter Bible institute. And then…

“A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself.” —Joseph Campbell

In the (Chilean) winter of 1957, the Asian flu swept over the country and ran through the mission team. The global pandemic of that day, the second-worst of the twentieth century, hit all of Edward and Kate’s family hard. Just as the five were improving, Jeremy and Marty contracted hepatitis. Before they recovered, Kate too came down with it. Severe complications set in.

Her life hung by a narrow thread.

After much prayer, and facing long months of recuperation, they once again made the heart-wrenching decision to travel back to the States. Within a few months, they felt obligated to write another farewell letter.

And this time, their good-bye was final.

Dare to Disappear

Why, why, why?

Perhaps you may ask, as many have, why so much happened to one small family. Why did God allow them twice to be thwarted from their goal? How much money and effort—blood and sweat, tears and time—was spent and lost, broken and poured out, seemingly in vain?

Only God knows, but surely none of it was wasted.

“In our world of big names, curiously, our true heroes tend to be anonymous. In this life of illusion… the person of solid virtues who can be admired for something more substantial than his [fame] often proves to be the unsung hero: the teacher, the nurse, the mother, the honest cop, the hard worker at lonely, underpaid, unglamorous, unpublicized jobs.” –Daniel J. Boorstin

Amid fierce opposition from the enemy of souls, an entire army of unknown soldiers like them have fallen along the wayside of life…and soon been forgotten. Wounded and sidelined, disappeared, missing in action. Maybe even dismissed, dropped, or dumped.  

Yet “these all…obtained a good report through faith” (Heb. 11:39). None of these quiet heroes were perfect. But all forfeited dreams and wishes, ambitions and preferences, to choose self-sacrifice, humble submission, and service to others.

And whatever our place in the larger scheme of the world, we acknowledge the weighty truth that we’ll never see most of our awards and rewards until the Kingdom comes. Medals and ribbons—and crowns—may indeed await us. For now, we are the weary warriors, the ditch-diggers and scullery maids, the foot-washers and faded missionaries.

Don’t Ever Despair

A few months ago, I received an invitation to my high school class’s upcoming 50^th reunion. It feels like a milestone. A moment to pause and take stock of how my life has turned out.

And compare it to that of others. Secretly, of course.

Perhaps, like me, you have few amazing successes to recount at the party. Not every life story is well known. Not every tale worth the telling gets publicized. And not every sacrifice and heroic deed is noted and praised.

But God.

God sees every single act of faithfulness. He hears every word of kindness spoken, collects every tear of grief shed, remembers every loss and uncertainty endured. He knows His own children and walks those paths of sickness and sorrow, suffering and stress, alongside them.

And He keeps the records: The widows and orphans, the poor and hurt, the lonely and alone. The husbands and wives who face hardships together, maybe the families who’d take on anything if they could just do it together.

What’s the point? What is their purpose? Certainly not fame, fortune, and followers. Not to grab the headlines, gain more clicks, or revel in comfort and applause.

But remember Edward and Kate. The unknown soldiers are ordinary people who keep doing the next right thing despite life’s curveballs and disappointments. They are the fighters and sloggers and caregivers. They are the nameless brave.

Like you and me, they’re not superheroes. Not even close. They’re not out clamoring to impress. We don’t gasp in awe or glimpse flashes of glory as they streak by.

But today, however our story reads, I would like to encourage those small people, the worn-out and footsore soldiers, the insignificant gap-fillers. My friend, do not be disheartened by the enemy’s sneers. Nor enticed by his lures of flattering accolades and easy shortcuts to victory.

Because whatever your role, it matters. You matter.

If you wonder what you keep marching on for…

If you doubt that anything you do carries impact past this week…

When you bear burdens that make you feel unseen, unsung, unknown…

Remember “we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith” (Heb. 12:1, NLT). You may feel as invisible as your audience, but you are not forgotten.

Thank you for your service to the Body of Christ.