(Note: the Foreword to my novel is located 2 posts back. The Foreword is a must-read to understanding the book. Thank you. This is for our Lord to refresh and hopefully bring back the excitement and adventure of the early Church days. Please, for this to succeed, you must spread this link to your friends and acquaintances. Copyrights still apply, but feel free to give link to all. Victory through Christ isn't about worldly riches. Our reward is eternal life through Christ.)
SHORT IN HEIGHT, TALL IN COURAGE, the Story of God's African Special Forces Unit
CHAPTER ONE
Who is this little man?
The sound of the C-130's engines drowned out any voice not shouting. After what The Team had just experienced in Mogadishu, Somalia, nobody felt like talking anyway. All but one sat staring into nothing with a well-practiced stoicism, suppressing outward emotions. That one was Samuel, Little Brother, who sat with his Somali robe covering his entire body and sobbing quietly underneath. The Hercules leveled off at low altitude in an attempt to not be detected by prying radar beams that might be searching for us as we headed homeward to Yei, South Sudan.
Laid carefully out between the two rows of The Team were two body bags filled with two of the finest men to ever live. Our casualty rate was much lower than expected due to the previous experience of the U.S. Army with Operation Gothic Serpent in '93, but still brought pain and suffering.
Aboard the second C-130 were the rescued Nigerian school girls and one seriously wounded Muslim local who most likely gave his life to save Christian strangers. That plane was en route to Abuja, capital of Nigeria, for a reunion of hostages and families and a trauma center for the wounded Muslim.
On this day, plutonium and hostages had been seized from the hands of Al Qaeda and a Russian working for Iran. Little did we realize at that time how our Somali Mission would impact the world. The news of this long and dangerous day would instill fear into terrorists around the world and hope into many Christian and Jewish people being persecuted by those terrorist organizations. A mission of this magnitude by a Christian military unit had previously been only a dream. Now, If the world didn't know before, this small but powerful quick-strike unit of who-are-theys are not myths or fake news.
My name is James Jefferson; I command the Christian unit known as The Team. Before I immerse you in characters, it would be helpful to give you a small piece of background information about the area and our organization.
I am an American serving the World Christian Peace Network in South Sudan and northern Africa. WCPN's general operations are a layer under which operates a behind-the-scene organization of Christians and Jews. This organization was set up to aid and protect Christians, their missions, and Jews. Our aim is to let the world's criminals and their organizations know that they face the wrath of God when attacking Christians and Jews. We are united in our strength and faiths. We came together to form this holy union due to the rising concern among Christian and Jewish leaders about the persecution and kidnappings. WCPN's goal is to aid, rescue, and, if necessary, to carry out missions against organizations attacking vulnerable Christians and Jews.
This story is one of great sacrifice, devotion, faith, and serving a God that doesn't spoil his faithful but demands great sacrifice at times while he is generous with his divine love all the time.
It is impossible to put into words the past sufferings of The Team's members that inspire them in their Godly devotion and bravery under fire. I refuse to give in to crass commercialism by focusing on particular tragedies. It is sufficient for you to know that human disasters exist and that men do not risk their lives without great personal motivation. We have dedicated our lives to glorifying our Lord and God by being a vehicle of his will. Our motto: "...be willing to march into hell for a heavenly cause," from the song Impossible Dream.
South Sudan gained independence from Sudan on July 9, 2011. Sudan is predominantly Muslim, while South Sudan is primarily Christian. As the newest country globally, South Sudan has major birthing problems and is occasionally under threat from the militant organizations operating out of the neighboring countries. It is common knowledge that North Africa has an overabundance of political problems, but we must always be a part of the solution and not the problem. South Sudan has the potential to become an outstanding specimen of African progressivism with its deep mineral resources and its intelligent and resourceful citizens. I love South Sudan and its bright future.
The tribal makeup of South Sudan is complicated. The countries of Sudan and South Sudan together make up a former British Colony. English is the official language of South Sudan. However, many Dinkas that make up The Team's majority also speak a Nilotic language classed within the Eastern Sudanic branch of the Nilo-Saharan languages. Another interesting fact about the Dinkas is they are believed to be the tallest people in Africa. Sadly, A civil war in 2013 killed over 300,000 people and left the majority of the country suffering from malnutrition. The U.N. estimates that more than 2.4 million people are internally displaced or refugees.
Our goal is to stay neutral in the country's political games, but it is a fine and, at times, an obscure line that we walk. I must say that there are instances when The Team becomes irritated with some of the politicians and the things they do, but we try not to let our personal feelings interfere with our loyalty to our Lord and our missions. He tells us to obey the laws of the land.
Now, let's talk about Little Brother. On the day of our first meeting, I was organizing the security and outfitting of a Swedish-Christian mission in Yei, South Sudan. Samuel was a member of a mission group from the U.S. that was on our schedule for the following day to receive a security briefing and training. Paperwork showed their origin was from a church in a mid-size Oklahoma town. Their group was adjacent to the Swedish group. I am, by nature, a curious creature; I began to observe Samuel's group.
Watching throughout the morning, two things drew my attention to Samuel, his height, around five feet, and the casual disrespect his fellow missionaries seemed to direct at him. I've had too much experience with haughty Americans. This sad and denigrating attitude is repulsive to everything Christianity stands for. Whenever I encounter this type of person, they remind me of what Mahatma Gandhi said about Christianity, "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." I am always excited to be around people who, at least, try to emulate Christ in their everyday lives.
My favorite physical feature of Samuel was his smile. No, he was not a George Clooney. But he wears this too-big-for-his-face smile that captured my heart. That large and toothy smile seems to be a permanent feature across his face. He keeps smiling even while having daggers thrown at him behind his back by his fellow mission members. His upbeat personality was the "icing on the cake," as they say. I saw in him the example of Christ and found myself wondering, "Am I deceived? Why do those other members of his group not see what I see?" As the Dinka Tribesmen on my Team had opportunities to deal with Samuel, they were drawn in by that captivating smile and personality just as I was. As we compared notes on Samuel, the consensus was that our observations matched.
When I approached Samuel, he turned that smile on me while asking, "how are you, my friend?" He extended his hands in what I thought would be a handshake but was a warm brotherly hug. Immediately, I knew he would do well in this backward, but accepting, country, so different from our home. Backward, for sure, but it is dominated by very tall and loving Dinka people for the most part. These native people reciprocate brotherly love in a manner more akin to the divine style of our Lord. You can't help but love them. They have so little but give so much. in Mark 12:44, Jesus tells the story of watching people put their money into the temple treasury, the rich put in large amounts, but a poor widow put in a few cents, "...but she, out of her poverty, put in everything - all she had to live on."
I saw Samuel as an opportunity. Starving for first-hand news from the home front, I asked Samuel if he would join me in a cup of coffee from a talented Dinka barista. I had to nearly coerce him into leaving the prep work for a short time to enjoy a cup of that wonderfully-strong Sudanese coffee and to take part in a get-to-know-one-another conversation. There was no mistaking that he possessed a strong team attitude and a great work ethic.
Over a cup of quality coffee at a table outside Fred's Coffee Shack, I was only mildly surprised to discover that Samuel is well versed in Sudanese culture and history, as a missionary should be. We had a coffee-lover discussion about South Sudan as one of three countries considered the "cradles of coffee." Arabica-coffee plants grow here naturally on the Boma Plateau. Our conversation took us through Dinka tribal dances to college football before it was ended too soon.
Just before he stood up to leave, Samuel leaned toward me and stared deep into my eyes, telling me, "James, our Lord will ask great sacrifices from you, but it comes out of His love and respect for you." Then he stood up, smiled, and extended his hand to thank me. That was just the first of many instances that would send chills down my spine with his words and actions. The coming years would convince The Team that he and God had each other's numbers on speed dial.
His compatriots came looking for him too soon, ending the conversation with my new friend. They whimpered like spoiled children about Samuel's slacking. We exchanged our itineraries then said our farewells.
The flow of various Christian sects and their missions meant big business for South Sudan and its citizens. The downside of life in Africa, particularly in North Africa, was the violence of Islamic militant groups like Al Qaeda, Boko Haram, Al Shabaab, Abdullah Azzam Brigades, Ras Kamboni Brigades, Ansar Bait al-maqdis, Al-Barakat, Al-Ittihad al-Islamiya, and on and on.
The day of Samuel's and his mission group's anticipated return came and went. There was no word from northwestern South Sudan where the party was scheduled to work. Having Dinkas check with their sources resulted in their coming to me empty-handed. The lateness wasn't unusual, but I had grown an attachment to this little man in the short time that we had together that day. I had empathy for someone so married to God's work who was treated disrespectfully. Over time, we would learn that he was not a man that needed a human protector to take care of him.
I waited anxiously for another week. During that time, troubling reports came trickling in. South Sudan news floating through Yei contained stories of militant Islamic groups active in the area where Samuel's group was assigned to do their mission work. A United Nations convoy pulled in during this time. The Major in charge of the convoy informed me that the situation in the northwestern area is not good. Violent attacks on Christians are becoming more numerous. The Major told me the attacks were emanating from the neighboring country of Chad, where Boko Haram is currently very active. Chad is known as the cesspool of terrorism in Africa. The Major stressed what I had just been made aware of that U.N. Headquarters had put out a directive for all Christian missionary groups currently operating in northwest South Sudan and southeast Chad to return to Yei or Juba without delay.
I know how lawless that area is and how vulnerable these Christian groups are to even poorly trained and poorly organized militia groups. Before retiring from the U.S. military and settling in with WCPN, I had spent twenty years of my military career as a member of the U.S. Army's Green Beret, stationed in the Middle East and Africa. This background merely added fuel to my worries during these times of crisis. Another concern was that there was no cell phone reception in that area and radio reception was sporadic.
It was time to act. I gathered the Dinka tribesmen for a strategy session. Note: do not let the term "tribesmen" fool you into thinking these are ignorant-illiterate men. The Team is filled with hand-picked and dedicated men dedicated to serving God. These men have survived extensive and very challenging physical and mental training. Their missions are as a small group operating miles from any support units and without the possibility of organized military backup or rescue many times. Theirs wasn't an 8 to 5 job. Team members were already combat tested on several occasions. A long waiting list to get into the unit awaited potential candidates. These men possessed other spiritual gifts that you will soon become familiar with. Furthermore, keep in mind the men currently on the Team and future team members are chosen first and foremost for their unwavering faith and devotion to our God.
I think it would be helpful to give you a current roster of The Team at this point: James Jefferson, myself; Mark Iverson, he and I are retired U.S. Army Special Forces, Green Beret; Mabior, our first recruit; Chan, our second recruit, he and Mabior are top-of-the-list in many ways; Alek, a definite weapons specialist; Bol, nothing bothers him - calm and collected under pressure; Deng, our spiritual guide; Thon, our comedian; Dok, can fix anything mechanical; Alier, the computer master; Jok, Alier's equal with computers; Garang, fastest man alive; Chol, strongest man on The Team; Amani, has a photographic memory, he scares people with his mind; Alier (we have an Alier, so call him Ali) and Kuol are twins, mischief is their middle names, in a good way; Marial, very loving, but calculating and brutal under fire; Dut, with us for six months, but a future leader; Mar, Short for Marial because we already have Marial, newest member, three months, but nobody breezed through the tough training as he did, he may become another Chan, we pray. Nineteen of us, all with baggage, are the kind of people our Lord wants on His Team.
My team members had been advising me to act for the last two days. Unfortunately, we were obligated each time, before going into action, to receive South Sudan's permission to act as a military unit on their sovereign soil. We needed the government's blessing. If they had military units operating in the area, it could be a disaster for both sides. Fortunately, we are blessed with WCPN's high-level connections and a great prayer team. We promptly had our needed permission.
I ordered the move northwest. Of course, the men had anticipated that order. After prayers and family goodbyes, we took off in our semi-armored Range Rovers, expecting a tough go of it. We had battled these militant incursions before. It is never for the faint-hearted
That first day on the road came off with few incidents, but here and there, we encountered pockets of disoriented missionaries fleeing toward Yei. None of the groups had suffered an attack, but their assessment of the situation was worrying. If these groups had registered with WCPN and taken the required training, they would have been more aware and organized in response to insurgent activity. Also, like the group that Samuel was a member of, we would have been closely monitoring for signs of trouble.
Near sunset, on the second day, we encountered an insurgent roadblock. Running into a roadblock this far out from the expected POC, point-of-contact, was very concerning. Mabior and Chan always occupied the lead vehicle dressed as Arabs. In the United States military, these two men would have been Green Berets or Navy Seals, they were that good and that dedicated. Our Christian methods and training taught us to always use as little violence as necessary to get the job done. Mabior and Chan had the situation well under control, and the militants were disarmed in under five minutes without a shot fired or a man injured. Unexpectedly, but fortunately, we met a South Sudanese Army patrol the next day and surrendered the insurgents. Such is the plight of the disorganized army of South Sudan. We had been told no units were in this area. Intelligence was traded with the soldiers, then we continued northwest.
The third day is when we began to see a noticeable increase in walking refugees. Occasionally, we would detain a group of vehicles or the "walkers," as we called the refugees walking. We did this to render what medical aid we could and ask questions. Some of the stories we heard were filled with atrocities, but nobody had viewed any atrocities with their own eyes. We could only consider their stories rumors at this point. We did what we could to patch up road sores from walking or a little water, but we needed to keep moving. The roads are always rudimentary in the outer regions, slowing us considerably.
The intelligence we gathered indicated to us that lethal force might be necessary. We prepared accordingly and prayed accordingly. We became engrossed in our inner spiritual selves as we drove slowly along. Silence reigned as we contemplated the possible battle that lay ahead. Mabior and Chan gave stern-faced lectures at our rest stops. These lectures encouraged the men to check and recheck their equipment and reminded everyone of their combat duties. Keeping alert and focused through mind-numbing miles over dusty and rutted roads was one of our most formidable adversaries. The mood was somber. I gave needless encouragement to these men who were all survivors of families massacred by Islamic radicals during the Sudanese Civil War. They exhibited such restraint in battle due to their devout Christian faith and intense military training. We encouraged one another to live by the example of our Lord Jesus. Sometimes, in private, I broke down in tears from knowing what these men must be fighting inside every day. They would get that far-away look from time to time, and I knew what they were thinking about. Only God's strength and comfort kept them going. Often, I would hear one of the men say something like, "I know God saved me to bring glory to his name."
As I have indicated, we were all battle-hardened veterans, but day four was horrific. The prevailing wind blowing toward us brought the all-too-familiar smell of Al Qaeda's savage handiwork. We parked our vehicles a short distance from the village to make a stealthier approach on foot with weapons at the ready. As we entered, the sight before us was of lifeless bodies that had been left just as they were massacred, in revolting positions. Many of the butchered bodies and their parts were unrecognizable as humans. A massacre is nothing new to my eyes, but those wretched gangsters had to have purposely made this the worst sight imaginable to humans happening upon this brutal scene. At one time or another, all of us lost the contents of our stomachs. We had no idea why God allowed such things, but our duty was to see that these criminals received justice on earth.
We spent most of that day burying those bodies and their parts in silent horror as our eyes overflowed with tears. I knew that just below the surface, intense anger was simmering. For the team members, this was an all too familiar scene. I watched their eyes for signs of an imminent explosion. This spectacle was opening up violent memories and emotions. If there was any idea of needing incentive before, there was none after that fourth day. The Team now possessed that fierce look in their eyes, indicating there would need to be a come-to-Jesus talk that night to keep them from committing a massacre of their own as we engaged the enemy in the coming battle. Only the power of God could hold these men back.
Deciding it was time to break for the day, we pulled off the road about a hundred yards onto a high point. This terrain feature would give us a tactical advantage in the event of an attack. The men were encouraged to rest for the next day could bring on a confrontation. As the men settled down that night, I read these words from the Bible for them, "'Genesis 9:6 "Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for God made man in his own image.' My brothers, you cannot commit wanton murder against those made in the image of God. Also, our Lord said to love even our enemies, and we shall have no enemies. If we act like them, we become them. We, as Christians, are to be different. It is not an easy task after what you have seen and experienced this day and many others, but that is why God chose you as his servants. Through great adversity, you have exhibited great strength and kept your heart's filled with love and forgiveness while surrounded by hate and slaughter." The Lord gave us a restful, uneventful night. But constant trouble rides upon the wind in these lands, and we would taste it soon enough.
Day five, There is smoke on the horizon, and the road is clogged with refugees. All indications were the battle was less than a day away. We stopped at mid-afternoon and went over our battle plans. All our weapons were loaded, we donned our flak vests, and prayers were said, long and intense. Any battle would most likely come upon us suddenly, without warning. The vehicles began to travel with long distances between them for security. Mabior and Chan took their usual place at the head of the column. Today, their best tactical position would be a mile ahead of the rest of our convoy. They were probing, and I wanted them to locate any possible trouble first. Hopefully, they would deceive the enemy into believing they are one of them. The two spoke beautiful Arabic. They are big and deceptively intelligent. I prayed, "Our dear loving Father, send your angels to protect our Team in this coming hour of battle. Give us the strength to conquer our enemies and be forgiving in our victories. Amen."
Bol speaking to everyone in the vehicle, quietly recalled, "The last memory of my mother is her being held down by those two men while yelling to me somewhere in the crowd, 'Bol, my son, remember me not as I die, but as I lived my life serving my Lord Jesus Christ.' Then those beasts brought that machete down on her neck." Every man there took in a deep breath that helped hold back the tears and anger. Anger suppression was a part of our daily lives.
Our use of satellite phones made us immune to most reception issues. The expected call came through from Mabior, "Possible roadblock ahead, half-mile. Chan's got his binocs on them. Six live bodies and three vehicles. I think it is missionaries. They look bloodied. Yeah, tighten up. They are going to need medical. Chan and I are advancing a quarter-mile to set up a temporary defensive position. We didn't stop, chief, but vehicles and Dinkas with the group look like part of Samuel's group. Didn't see Samuel, but could be in one of the vehicles." The sound of Mabior's breathing during the call was that of someone trying hard to hold back anger. Then he whispered into the phone, "Dear Father, Justice is yours, not mine. Give me the strength to love amid hate."
We closed in on the group. It was a small part of Samuel's group without Samuel. We began giving medical treatment as we questioned them about the situation in the village when they left. We asked specific questions about the number of insurgents, whether they were Sudanese or whoever, what the weapons sounded like, automatic, etc. Evidently, they had been attacked a little before dawn. Everybody was still sleeping. Several villagers and missionaries were wounded. Small groups of people who couldn't escape by running into the bush probably hid in the houses. This particular group had been saved by Samuel, creating a diversion, while they ran out the back way to the vehicles. They used a tone of voice that implied he was foolish in describing Samuel's sacrificial actions. His supposed team members were incredulous that someone could be so ignorant, running toward the gunfire. I asked in an exasperated voice, "Did anyone go with him to help?" They just stared at me like I was crazy. One of the Dinkas standing behind me said something un-Christian about them in their native language of Nilotic. I do not care to translate. They gave us all this information with no visible compassion for Samuel. Taking a deep breath, I locked eyes with theirs while ordering them to, "...tell me, as precisely as you can, how serious are his wounds and where those wounds are located." They merely shrugged. Once again, the Dinka behind me, I think it was Bol, made a rude comment in his native Nilotic language. I shook my head in silent agreement while holding back intense anger.
Bol and Alek pulled me aside, saying, "We need to go. There is no time to waste on these kurets, cowards. We must save the ones worth saving."
I put my hands on their shoulders and said, "I agree. Round up the others. The people left in that village are in grave danger."
According to our information, the village was about thirty minutes away. We went into full combat mode. Mabior and Chan drove to a GPS point located about a quarter-mile from the village and five miles ahead of the main body of our Team. At that point, they left their vehicle to circle to the west. According to our intel, this was the most likely location of the insurgents. At that point, they would attempt to locate the insurgents and lie in wait for the order to attack.
Meanwhile, I sent Alek and Mar around the village's east side. The rest of us began the slow and careful walk into the village, we hugged the tall bush along the side of the path. At this time, I gave orders to both the east and west units to take the enemy under direct fire as soon as located. Our hope was for this action to draw enemy fire away from the village and any friendly people there.
I could hear the sounds of small-arms fire on the left, Mabior and Chan, followed shortly after by firing on the right, Alek and Mar engaging the enemy pickets on that side.
We picked up our pace. We had walked only a few hundred meters before a line of men dressed in Arab robes called thawbs came into view about a hundred meters ahead. I made a flat hand signal that indicated that the men drop to their stomachs. As the group came nearer, I noticed all of them had their hands bound behind their backs with their legs tethered loosely together. Behind me, peering through his binoculars, Thon whispered, "Whose the short guy at the back with all the A.K. rifles hanging all over him?"
I pressed my binoculars to my eyes, remarking, "I can't tell. The man's head is covered in a turban." Signaling the squad to rise and approach the men in a line perpendicular to them, I shouted to the man behind the group with the A.K.s, "Identify yourself!"
The little man dropped all the Aks, threw the turban off, and frantically shouted, "It's me, Mr. Jefferson - Samuel Winston!" He couldn't keep that big smile off his face, even when in fear of being shot.
In the meantime, the firing from our two flank teams had ceased. I phoned them to wrap up their prisoners and come to the village path. I then walked to Samuel while the squad took charge of the prisoners.
I heard the lead Al Qaeda guy say in Arabic, "He really did have an army waiting." That comment caused the squad to break into laughter.
Gathering my words, I said, "Samuel, where - no, how did you capture these boys?" At that moment, villagers and the remainder of his mission group slowly appeared from the trees and brush.
"Well, I'll tell you, it was quite simple; I just convinced them that continued resistance was futile." Once again, Samuel's big smile overtook his face and caused me and the men to begin to laugh.
Mabior, Chan, Alek, and Mar strutted with their prisoners down the path toward us. They were under the impression our squad had captured the Al Qaeda boys. When they found out the truth of the matter, their jaws actually dropped as they stared at little Samuel.
Everyone surrounded him and began a Dinka victory dance while singing praises to our Lord. Samuel worked his way through the crowd to keep an eye on his hard-won prizes, the prisoners, that nobody else seemed to be worrying about. But Samuel did not yet know how tenacious The Team could become in an instant. Evidently, the prisoners had pre-experience with this attribute as they dutifully remained in place with heads down, deflated.
All of a sudden, someone remembered Samuel was wounded. Once more, Samuel was surrounded. With all their medical expertise focused on his wounds, he was bandaged and listed as not suffering from any life-threatening injuries. But, if he had a special girl whom he wanted to impress, the medical staff was willing to reevaluate his condition. All was in good humor, but he was embarrassed and flustered by all the attention. Alek sensed this and, placing his hand on Samuel's shoulder, said, "Such is the life of a warrior and a hero, my little brother. With your spiritual gifts, I think you should get used to it." Everyone gave a hearty cheer.
Later, preparing our homeward journey, we made Samuel tell us the complete story of capturing the prisoners. He was warned to not leave any details untold. Once again, being Samuel, he downplayed it all. Having disguised himself as convincingly as possible to look like one of the attacking Al Qaeda, he, armed with his fluent Arabic, infiltrated and disarmed the insurgents without firing a shot. He convinced them that resistance was futile because an army was waiting for him outside the village. God takes our weaknesses and turns them into strengths for his glory. The entire Team adopted Samuel from that moment on, naming him Little Brother. This strange little man that God seemed to watch over personally was swiftly cemented into our psyches as someone extraordinary.
As our column of vehicles entered Yei, the people standing around staring at us slowly began to understand the gravity of what was passing before them. The word spread like wildfire through the town. As we entered our compound, thousands of people had gathered there to view the prisoners and yell obscenities at them. Some of the people gathered were the fellow mission members of Samuel's Team. As word spread about Samuel's escapades, his Mission members were astonished that he was alive, much less that he had captured most of the insurgents. The Team had made sure his Mission members knew that Samuel's courage had accomplished this dangerous task. Of course, Samuel forgave his mission members and never stopped loving those who had deserted him during the crisis. After this adventure, there was a marked difference in his friends' interactions with him. They began to look at him and address him as a celebrity. I shook my head at this. They still did not see that he had always been a man to be associated with and respected.
Contrary to his fellow Mission members' view, celebrity status had not altered Samuel in his own eyes. Walking along with Alek and Samuel the day after our return, we encountered a young lady from his mission group. He won't admit it, but several of us witnessed this young and single lady ask for his autograph while giving him the fluttering eye. He quickly made excuses and, turning away, rapidly made his way down the street like a scared rabbit, leaving us to laugh among ourselves. Alek mused, "It's a good thing those Al Qaeda guys weren't girls, Chief?"
The Team extended an invitation to Samuel to leave his mission group and join The Team. Fortunately for us, he did just that. Little Brother grew into a novelty and celebrity amongst the tall Dinkas. Samuel Nathanael Winston's big smile and loving personality caused them to love and respect him, as he did them. Being one of their team members, the Dinkas told all who commented on Samuel's height, "Short in height, tall in courage." He would go on to prove it many times over.
