Snake Eaters

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The chaplain had only just arrived in the Gulf. He was very new to the Army, but was a sensitive man and conscientious, convinced that God had sent him here to do some good.

But how? His first service was scheduled for this very afternoon, and he couldn’t think of anything to say in his sermon, or at least nothing that would be inspiring. The men here were on the front line, the tripwire of the allied defense. At any second, Saddam’s minions could appear over the next sand dune and overwhelm them. He needed something powerful to encourage and comfort them. But he could think of nothing.

Finally, the minister decided to seek inspiration from the desert itself. He walked out from the sandbags and strolled into the open sand, shading his eyes from the sun overhead. He gazed across the undulating land, trying to imagine what this desert might have been like three or four thousand years before, when God had come among the Israelites and smote their enemies.

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