Fear not, this post is NOT about how that I am failing in my (feeble) attempts to reduce my bulk.

Last night I finished watching the best film I've seen for a LONG time. It was about a decisive moment during WW2. Being an old skeptic I had to keep on fighting back thoughts that it was mostly just a Holywood story based (loosely) on historical events (reported by whom?). Nevertheless, it was a thrill to see one character developing from a useless lieutenant hiding behind his rank and being 'mothered' by a dutiful sergeant. Up until the point where (as a consequence of the lieutenant preferring to surrender rather than let his sergeant throw a grenade at the Germans who were looking for them) the two of them, as part of a larger group of POW's, were mercilessly gunned down. Needless to say the good-old sergeant saw it all coming and told his superior to run. The only prisoner left after the encounter with the german machine-gun was the said lieutenant. (which reminds me of the stinging feeling of shame I felt when, during my 6-weeks basic training, I used the American pronunciation of this word - too many war films, I guess!). He ran off, hid and was eventually discovered by a few American soldiers who met him like he was a long-lost father. By this time, somehow, a miraculous transformation had evidently taken place (and a very human and real transformation it was portrayed as) and the lieutenant was willing, at last, to take up his rightful role, and 'play the man'. He risked his life at the (wrong) end of a rifle in the hands of a momentarily derranged US tank sergeant (in stark contrast to his comfort-loving, skin-preserving former persona). Then he went on to act decisively and NOT run away, in the face of approaching German tanks, in spite of strong encouragement from his newly-found soldiers. Instead he used the fuel at his disposal to blast those nasty Germans (seeking the American fuel-stash so that they could continue their advance, without which they were doomed) to smithereens.
All this brave stuff was a direct consequence of the faithful and obedient service (even when it seemed that someone needed to come and give the lazy, cowardly lieutenant a good slap) of an honest sergeant who loved his lieutenant. 'Greater love hath no man than this, that he should lay down his life for his friend'. If those we serve here don't become all they ought to while we are alive, we shall be content to think that our departure may be a catalyst to them becoming what they ought to have been all along. Meanwhile we must plod on, trying to do our duty.

It also occurred to me that Generals have a terrifically difficult task. They have to take calculated risks which endanger the lives of some - in the interests of saving the lives of many. Perhaps odd Christians here and there are suffering and dying whilst obeying the orders of our supreme General, it is no light matter to HIM, and the suffering and death is not in vain.

That all makes me want to go and read Tolstoy again - haven't read any Tolstoy for a long time.