Remembrance of War Past
Over one hundred years ago Mr Nichols, Superintendant (pro tem) of Zion Baptist Sunday School in Cwmcarn, Monmouthshire, was concerned about the continued spiritual welfare of the lads and young men from the village who were rushing to join up to serve King and Country. Many of them were, or had been in 'his' Sunday School.
Somehow he had managed to source a supply of pocket-sized Bibles. Little, light-weight whole copies of the Scriptures, about 4" by 5" by half an inch. He presented a copy to each man as he left for The Great War, complete with hand-written dedication. Doubtless he spent the rest of the war praying for 'his' lads, probably dreading the next list of casualties.
Two of the little Bibles Mr Nichols presented to Seth Davies and his older brother Tom as they, now members of the Monmouthshire Regiment, went off to Basic Training in December 1914. They had both been apprenticed at a local bakery. Seth was a peace-loving lad, kind and generous, but thought it right to join up to serve King and Country - as a Medical Orderly and Stretcher-Bearer, not as a 'fighting' soldier.
At some point in the conflict, probably when out trying to 'bring in' the injured, stretcher-bearer Pte Davies stopped a bullet himself. In the chest. Right in the pocket where he'd put his Bible. In fact it was the Bible that stopped the bullet; although only half an inch thick, it penetrated only as far as 2 Samuel (theres still quite a lot of the Bible to come after that.) Fortunately the other stretcher-bearers managed to get him back to a First Aid post, then a Field Hospital, where they found he had broken ribs and bound him up. When sufficiently well, they sent him back to Blighty to recover.
Then back to the Front. Where he succeeded in dodging further bullets for the rest of the War. In due course Seth and Tom, who'd also survived, were demobbed and returned to their grateful parents and friends in Cwmcarn.
In May 1919 Zion Baptist held a Service of Celebration to thank Almighty God for the thirty or so men and ten women who'd been involved in the War and had returned. Each was presented with a certificate commemorating the occasion and listing all the others.
What they thought of this isn't recorded. As so many, Seth never talked about the years he'd spent stretcher-bearing for King and Country. He probably wanted to forget it all, besides which, apart from the other returnees, no one else would have understood what it had actually been like.
Tom became a baker, eventually settling in the Forest of Dean. Seth married his sweetheart Eva, and in due course they had a daughter. He became an Under-Manager at a local colliery. See, Cwmcarn is in South Welsh Coal Country (or was then.) You could go down the pit, or you could work above ground as he did. The colliery even provided a house built specially for them. Eva was delighted.
Then there was the miners strike (in 1922?) Being 'Management' Seth had to go into work to make sure the pumping engines were working. The Cwmcarn pit was a deep mine. It rains a lot in that part (or any part) of Wales. So the water had to be pumped out day and night, lest the whole pit flood.
Of course, the striking miners regarded Seth as a 'scab' and 'blackleg' - for all the work he was doing was necessary to the continued existence of the pit. When they all returned to work any comradeship resulting from growing up together and serving King and Country together had gone. Life became difficult and when he heard about a corner shop going in Bristol Seth decided to move.
He said it was the best thing he'd ever done, going into business working for himself. It was hard work, probably harder than undermanaging at the colliery, but he was his own boss. He had his own house, a Victorian terrace next to the local Primary school - which was useful for his daughter. Eva never really liked the house, compared with the Colliery place back in Cwmcarn it was old, dark, narrow and in the middle of a city. However it was where Seth was so she put up and (mostly) shut up. And they had another daughter.
Ok, I can hear you saying, Dear Reader, so far so good, but what has this to do with you?
Seth and Eva were my mother's parents. If Mr Nichols and Zion Baptist Sunday School, Cwmcarn, hadn't given him that Bible before he went off to war in late 1914, the one which stopped that German bullet, there would have been another name on the Cwmcarn war memorial. And I wouldn't be here writing about it.
Not only me, Seth and Eva's two daughters had four daughters and a son between them, who all went on to marry. Between us we have eight children of our own. That's another fifteen people, 22 if we include our respective spouses. All because someone gave a soldier a little pocket Bible, which stopped a bullet.
Others who, having had their lives saved by their pocket Bibles, dedicated their lives to God, eg: Pte Frank Viner and Pte Arthur Ingham. Apparently it was a fairly common occurrance.
Grandad's physical life was saved by that Bible. Though he was always a peace-loving, kind, generous man, the Bible as a whole and God himself never seemed to mean more to him. Maybe he'd seen too much of War. Maybe he'd seen too much hypocrisy in those professing to be Christians. Some things don't change.
However five of his biological descendants (so far) and four spouses are committed and active Christians, trying to live out their lives by the tenets of Scripture and to the glory of Almighty God. It saved Grandad's physical life, it is saving our living daily.
So this Sunday I'll be Remembering the goodness of God in the Land of the Living, among other things.
How about you, Dear Reader?
Somehow he had managed to source a supply of pocket-sized Bibles. Little, light-weight whole copies of the Scriptures, about 4" by 5" by half an inch. He presented a copy to each man as he left for The Great War, complete with hand-written dedication. Doubtless he spent the rest of the war praying for 'his' lads, probably dreading the next list of casualties.
Two of the little Bibles Mr Nichols presented to Seth Davies and his older brother Tom as they, now members of the Monmouthshire Regiment, went off to Basic Training in December 1914. They had both been apprenticed at a local bakery. Seth was a peace-loving lad, kind and generous, but thought it right to join up to serve King and Country - as a Medical Orderly and Stretcher-Bearer, not as a 'fighting' soldier.
At some point in the conflict, probably when out trying to 'bring in' the injured, stretcher-bearer Pte Davies stopped a bullet himself. In the chest. Right in the pocket where he'd put his Bible. In fact it was the Bible that stopped the bullet; although only half an inch thick, it penetrated only as far as 2 Samuel (theres still quite a lot of the Bible to come after that.) Fortunately the other stretcher-bearers managed to get him back to a First Aid post, then a Field Hospital, where they found he had broken ribs and bound him up. When sufficiently well, they sent him back to Blighty to recover.
Then back to the Front. Where he succeeded in dodging further bullets for the rest of the War. In due course Seth and Tom, who'd also survived, were demobbed and returned to their grateful parents and friends in Cwmcarn.
In May 1919 Zion Baptist held a Service of Celebration to thank Almighty God for the thirty or so men and ten women who'd been involved in the War and had returned. Each was presented with a certificate commemorating the occasion and listing all the others.
What they thought of this isn't recorded. As so many, Seth never talked about the years he'd spent stretcher-bearing for King and Country. He probably wanted to forget it all, besides which, apart from the other returnees, no one else would have understood what it had actually been like.
Tom became a baker, eventually settling in the Forest of Dean. Seth married his sweetheart Eva, and in due course they had a daughter. He became an Under-Manager at a local colliery. See, Cwmcarn is in South Welsh Coal Country (or was then.) You could go down the pit, or you could work above ground as he did. The colliery even provided a house built specially for them. Eva was delighted.
Then there was the miners strike (in 1922?) Being 'Management' Seth had to go into work to make sure the pumping engines were working. The Cwmcarn pit was a deep mine. It rains a lot in that part (or any part) of Wales. So the water had to be pumped out day and night, lest the whole pit flood.
Of course, the striking miners regarded Seth as a 'scab' and 'blackleg' - for all the work he was doing was necessary to the continued existence of the pit. When they all returned to work any comradeship resulting from growing up together and serving King and Country together had gone. Life became difficult and when he heard about a corner shop going in Bristol Seth decided to move.
He said it was the best thing he'd ever done, going into business working for himself. It was hard work, probably harder than undermanaging at the colliery, but he was his own boss. He had his own house, a Victorian terrace next to the local Primary school - which was useful for his daughter. Eva never really liked the house, compared with the Colliery place back in Cwmcarn it was old, dark, narrow and in the middle of a city. However it was where Seth was so she put up and (mostly) shut up. And they had another daughter.
Ok, I can hear you saying, Dear Reader, so far so good, but what has this to do with you?
Seth and Eva were my mother's parents. If Mr Nichols and Zion Baptist Sunday School, Cwmcarn, hadn't given him that Bible before he went off to war in late 1914, the one which stopped that German bullet, there would have been another name on the Cwmcarn war memorial. And I wouldn't be here writing about it.
Not only me, Seth and Eva's two daughters had four daughters and a son between them, who all went on to marry. Between us we have eight children of our own. That's another fifteen people, 22 if we include our respective spouses. All because someone gave a soldier a little pocket Bible, which stopped a bullet.
Others who, having had their lives saved by their pocket Bibles, dedicated their lives to God, eg: Pte Frank Viner and Pte Arthur Ingham. Apparently it was a fairly common occurrance.
Grandad's physical life was saved by that Bible. Though he was always a peace-loving, kind, generous man, the Bible as a whole and God himself never seemed to mean more to him. Maybe he'd seen too much of War. Maybe he'd seen too much hypocrisy in those professing to be Christians. Some things don't change.
However five of his biological descendants (so far) and four spouses are committed and active Christians, trying to live out their lives by the tenets of Scripture and to the glory of Almighty God. It saved Grandad's physical life, it is saving our living daily.
So this Sunday I'll be Remembering the goodness of God in the Land of the Living, among other things.
How about you, Dear Reader?