David Hall describes how one small Anglican church in rural Sussex mobilised for mission.
After a fitful night’s sleep, the soldiers emerge from their dug-in positions, stretch and check their weapons one last time. They have all written their final letters, now they scan the horizon apprehensively, grateful for air support, special forces already in position, artillery back-up, the naval blockade and, above all, their colleagues in the regiment.
The faint dawn glow ahead of them illuminates the sleeping countryside as if, in the distance, a furious conflict is already in progress. A discreet flurry of activity at the edge of the camp announces the arrival of the Commander-in-Chief. Calling the troops together, he makes a series of startling announcements. Anyone feeling a bit apprehensive is invited to head back. Amazingly, two-thirds of the troops pack up and leave. Bizarrely, seemingly something to do with the way they drink their early morning ‘brew’, thousands more are sent packing, until just 300 are left. ‘This’, the Commander-in-Chief announces, ‘is the army with which I will bring victory’. Crucially, he now remains, and the small force advances into the unknown.
