Chapter 2 SHORT IN HEIGHT, TALL IN COURAGE

 

CHAPTER TWO

Samuel trains for Team membership

 

     I sat in my office bouncing a tennis ball off the wall while waiting for Mark to return from the airport with Artie Shaw and Giff Davies, retired British SAS, Special Air Service. A pair of hooligans who do most of our initiation training. These two men are thoroughly experienced, knowledgeable, and brave men, but hooligans just the same. Samuel would start his two-month training next week.

     The Team let it be known that Samuel would pass regardless of physical talent or lack thereof. Samuel was not an athlete. We knew rigorous physical testing would be demanding for him, but he would never agree to be exempted from the other team members' suffering.

     Of course, we were going to rig it. All of us had witnessed Samuel's spiritual gift for accomplishing the impossible. It was evident that God had angels all around him. He was indeed an extraordinary man, and The Team needed him. Everyone, including myself, perked up whenever Samuel entered our presence. It has the tint of worship, but he has such an impact on us.

     Mark threw open the office door shaking his head, carrying a fake smile, and saying, "Here are our two trainers, drunk and impossibly obnoxious, as per their usual.

     Artie rudely pushed Mark aside and slammed his fists on my desk while pressing his face near mine and yelling, "What's this about some unfit slacker we're to train? We train men, not worms. JJ, if this bloke isn't on, we're wastin' our time and your money!

     I stared back at Artie, "Your breath smells like a sewer, Artie! Both of you get yourselves fit before you come in here yelling at me about one of the best men we've ever invited into our unit. This isn't one of your soldier-of-fortune jobs. I'm the boss, not a pair of drunk misfits." Standing, I ordered them to get out, knowing they'd be back ready to go on Monday.

        On their way out, Giff, in his quiet manner, spoke, "This is just what our way of life has made of us, sorry, JJ."

        "I know that Giff or you two would have been thrown out the door before you entered. Just warning you - I think you two will meet your match in Samuel." I felt un-Christian for the angry words I plastered Artie and Giff with. "Artie, you two get back in here for a moment. I want to tell you a story concerning Samuel Winston."

     "The Team voted on scaling this local hill, Mt. Sinai, as we refer to it. It was taken on as one of our team-building exercises. The mountain isn't exceptionally tall, but its sides have the appearance of sheer vertical.

     Mark laughed aloud as he recalled the event, "You ain't lying about that one, JJ. Our legs were rubber by the time we finished seven hours of climbing that massive bump on the landscape."

        Chuckling, I continued the story, "All of us started out together, but soon we were strung out all over the east side of Mt. Sinai. Everyone huffing and puffing like steam engines. The weather was hot and muggy; what else on the equator. Humidity wrapped around you like an overcoat. After four hours, I asked around to see if anyone had seen Samuel. He is not a physical guy. I was worried about him having a stroke or some other medical malady. Everyone I asked gave a negative reply. Chan and Samuel usually hung together, but Chan was really competitive when it came to physical events. He had quickly outpaced Samuel up the incline. Chan was very confident in Samuel pacing himself as he had been taught. We continued our climb. Everyone was caught up in the antics of Garang and Chol, our two track-stars, who were standing near the top arguing over who was first. It was at this time that Chan yelled out, 'Look! It's Samuel asleep on that big outcropping at the top!' Everyone was shocked."

        As a group, we trudged up to where Samuel lay snoring away. I nudged him with my crop. His eyes popped open like a Jack-in-the-box. "Hey, guys. I was getting worried." Everyone was asking at once about how he got there first. He gave us his combo look of innocent and guilty while answering, "I guess I kinda cheated. I came up the short side."

     Garang commented gently, "There is no such thing as a short side, Little Brother. We all started from the same point, and there aren't any roads up or vehicles that can climb this vertical monster."

      Samuel shrugged his shoulders, then changed the subject, "I'm hungry - anybody else in?"

     We all stared at him until someone blurted out, "That's our Little Brother we have all come to know and love." The men all agreed, followed by a laugh.

     My lesson from the Bible is that it doesn't hurt your cause to have a prophet on your side.

     Artie and Giff looked at Mark and me with their confused and doubting faces. Artie asked with one hand rubbing his chin, "There ain't no such thing as a short side of a hill - is there?"

      Mark and I just shrugged our shoulders in reply.

      Monday morning rolled around too soon for the hooligans. The Team stood in our meeting room talking excitedly about Samuel's big day. I whispered into Artie's ear, "I subtracted the damages from your contract for the bar you two tore up Saturday night. If that ever happens again, you two will be blacklisted - and you know I can do it, Mr. Shaw!

      At Samuel's entrance, I introduced everyone. Samuel bypassed Artie's and Giff's extended hands to put a big loving hug on them both. At the same time, they stood wide-eyed and mortified at the emotional touching of their sacred bodies.

     Mabior launched a distinct, "You ain't seen nothing yet," at the hooligans, reaffirmed by his finger pointing at their faces.

     I leaned over to Mark, whispering, "What do you think, nine or ten days till Samuel is in charge of these two and has them in church?"

     Mark's rebuttal was, "These old boys are pretty tough; it may take a couple of weeks."

     Mark, Mabior, and Samuel loaded up in our SUV. Quietly, I restated my order to Artie and Giff that Samuel would pass the training. They came back at me, but I reinforced the order with a "Samuel fails to pass, and I'll let The Team loose on you two." They knew I was serious. "I find out you made any crude remarks or cut-downs to him or let him know what we're doing; I'll - you get my drift."

     Giff remarked with an insulted tone, "Well, JJ, if it means that much to you, we'll do it. All you have to do is tell us."

     In exasperation, I fired back, "It means that much and more, and, furthermore, I did tell you."

     Giff and Artie worked hard with Samuel that first week. Every evening, they came to me with the same complaints about Samuel's total lack of athleticism. "He won't last five minutes in combat under fire," they repeated this line till I was sick of hearing it.

     However, The Team watched Samuel unload from the SUV every evening with that big smile. The Team tried to be discreet in their snooping, but 19 guys gathered around faking non-interest looked exactly like what it was. As The Team questioned him about the day's training, he would give the same stock answer each evening, "I love it. As you all know, I'm not great at the physical part of the training, but Artie and Giff are wonderful instructors. They are teaching me how to improve my physical agility and strength. They have a lovely nickname for me, Prat. I love those two. They take their time to come out and train me and never complain." At this moment, Samuel would always turn to the two SAS boys and smile.

     Artie and Giff usually put a sheepish smile on their faces and nodded agreement as they kicked the floor nervously. The nickname was trashed.

     Thursday evening came with the lobby occupied by 19 men feigning non-interest. Usually, Samuel launched out of the vehicle, followed by Giff and Artie. Today was different; Artie gently placed both feet on the ground before lifting his body to standing. Walking with a limp, he was noticeably bent forward. He avoided contact with us. Grabbing Giff and pulling him to the side, I asked, "Giff, what's up with Artie's limp?"

     Giff hung his head down as he shuffled his feet, "Uh, well, we had martial arts training today, and Giff hurt his back."

     Right away, I knew there must be more to the story. I probed, "Giff, tell me the whole story."

     Still hanging his head, "JJ, I'm not supposed to tell you this, but Artie was sorta showing off some really bad-boy moves on Sammy. That's when it happened."

     "That's when what happened?" I became aware of Mabior next to me.

     Giff wiped the sweat from his forehead, then stared into my eyes as he whispered, "That little guy blocked Artie's strike, grabbed him, then proceeded to flip him head over heels onto his back. I ain't never seen Artie blocked, much less thrown before. There is something unworldly about this Sammy guy; the things he says - the things he does. Sammy scares the daylights out of me. He can't be human. Please, don't tell Artie I told you all this."

     "I won't, Giff." I thought, "Giff, you and Artie won't recognize yourselves when Samuel finishes with you."

     Mabior goaded me with, "Chief, want me to tell Little Brother to ease up on them?"

      There was truth in Mabior's humor. As I turned to see how Samuel was doing, Mark slapped me on the shoulder, remarking, "JJ, I recall that we warned them."

     While we stared at Samuel, the three of us mused about the identity of this little man so obviously sent to us by God?

     Friday morning of that first training week rolled around. However, Samuel, Artie, and Giff failed to muster for transport to the training area. I walked into our team classroom training area, where The Team was being tutored in foreign languages. I asked if anyone had seen the three Musketeers, as I referred to them.

      Alier informed me that he had seen the three headed for the marketplace with Samuel in the lead and the other two following behind. "Chief, I thought that was strange, but Samuel seemed to be in charge," Alier laughed. We all knew exactly what was happening. We trampled one another, getting out the door, and ran toward the market near the middle of Yei. Nobody wanted to miss this.

     Nearing the market, we could see a large crowd sitting in a circle with Samuel standing in the middle. Spotting Artie and Giff seated on the crowd's edge, we squeezed in, crouching down around them. "Why aren't you guys at the training grounds?"

     Artie gave me a brassy look, "Shhh, Sammy is speaking with those two families seated around him. When we arrived, they were going at it tooth and nail."

     I shot back, "Artie, you're supposed to be training! Is it your back?" That crack brought a smirk from The Team.

     Artie looked alarmed then turned to assault Giff with a death stare. After that, he came back at me tersely, "For your information, Mr. Jefferson, Samuel says that we answer the call of the Lord before we answer the call of man." With amazement in his voice, Artie said, "JJ, that little bloke walked right into the middle of those two big fellas who were slugging it out like two heavyweight boxers. You ain't gonna believe it. When Sammy walked up and pushed them apart, they immediately quit fighting and looked at Samuel with terror in their eyes. Now, he has everyone seated and lecturing them - and they're listening! Wow, this little guy makes up for the physical with the mental - I mean spiritual. How come you didn't tell us he was some kind of super-prophet or something? Watch Sammy maneuver those blokes to right where he wants 'em with just a stare and some right-placed words. Pow! He's got 'em."

     I leaned over to Mark and whispered, "Pow, Samuel got them. Four days - a record!"

     Mark giggled, "Church on Sunday?"

     Samuel had won a TKO. The Team sunk hands in pockets for money to settle bets.

     In due course, the last week of training came around. It consisted of a long trek into Mt. Subi's remote forest with one bottle of water and a pack of snack crackers to last five days or until the recruit found other food sources as he had been taught. The recruit was given a three-day head start before our Team came after him. We had never failed to capture the recruit, but it was a challenging training tool. We waited till the third day to search, so the recruit could have alone time eating bugs and sleeping on rain-soaked vegetation in the forest. It was sort of an initiation, a right of passage.

     Samuel set off with a smile and waved till out of sight. We never found any trace of Little Brother until the evening of the fifth and last day.

     On the third day, excitedly, we had all set off to find Samuel and start the celebration. The search teams took no water or food. History taught us not to bother with such items. Late that day, reports came in that nobody had spotted even a broken twig or a discarded water bottle. All sorts of nasty images began to fill our heads. Visions such as Samuel being eaten by wild animals or starving to death danced in our heads. We all refused to rest, sleep, or replenish till we found Little Brother. The next day we would have two tracker dogs with us. I began to notice some of the men giving me dirty looks. Mark overheard Deng saying, "It was a bad leadership mistake to put Samuel out in this forest alone for five days with his frail body." I guess Mark's laughing at his remark angered Deng. The men didn't possess the experience Mark and I had acquired over the years. We had confidence in Samuel, or we would not have let him take on this part of the training. Still, it was concerning.

     The evening of that fifth day, we were all gathered in a circle clothed in somber moods, listening to Mabior line us out on the upcoming night search, when a voice from the back of the group enquired, "Can I help?"

     The Twins, Alier and Kuol, shouted from the outside of the circle, "Little Brother!"

     The circle excitedly reformed around Samuel. Everyone wanted to hug him. Making my way through the throng, I asked with a guilt-ridden heart, "Are you okay, Little Brother? Where have you been? Are you hungry? Someone get him some water and food - now!"

     With that disarming smile, Samuel put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Chief, calm down. I'm stuffed. I couldn't eat another bite. I cannot believe how good those grubs cooked with dates and guava are once you adjust to them. I'll never turn my nose up at South Sudanese forest cuisine again."

     Turning him around, Chan commented, "You look like you have gained weight, Little Brother. Forest food must agree with you."

    "Oh, yes, it does, and I think it's all muscle gain."

     Artie stood there staring at Samuel while everyone hugged and questioned him. He was ready to debrief him on how he evaded capture. "Sammy, we went all over this blankety-blank, sorry, forest and even tripled the number of men searching compared to past training. Also, we brought in two tracker dogs. Now, just how did you do it?"

     "I prayed and let God handle the worrying. Matthew 6:26-27 states, 'Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?'" Remember, my Bible is what version, Artie?"

     Artie thought for a moment before yelling out the answer like a school kid, "NIV!"

     Respectfully, Samuel gave Artie a compliment by patting him on the back.

     Artie shook his head in amazement at this coup, "Me own Mom ain't gonna recognize me, Giff. Sorry, almost forgot, Mr. Sammy, let's pray."

     And all of us went to our knees to thank God for delivering our beloved Samuel to us unharmed. Samuel tells us, "Men who cannot get on their knees to give thanks and worship our God are not worthy of his grace."

      The following day, after Samuel's graduation ceremony, Artie and Giff took me aside to explain their next move in life, "JJ, we cannot put into words what these two months with The Team and Samuel has done for us. We have decided not to return to the Soldier-of-Fortune world. The grapevine tells us that Israel is looking for men with our background. Looks like we're headed that way. I'm sure we'll meet up again down the road, now that we're working for the same outfit. God Bless you, our friend."

     That night, I sat on the old wooden bench in front of our building, thinking about The Team and what the future might hold. Samuel was now an official member of The Team, bringing the number to twenty.

     Coming back to reality, I remembered the missed call and the voicemail on my phone from a familiar South Sudanese General. On the  voicemail, the General said, "Mr. Jefferson, urgent, call as soon as you receive this message, please!" My first reaction was, oh, no, but after talking with our Lord, I looked up, saying, "Thank you, Father, for this opportunity to use the spiritual gifts You have so graciously poured upon us. Your will, not ours."