War Sermon Illustrations

War Sermon Illustrations

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"Flag of truce, Excellency."

"Well, what do the revolutionists want?"

"They would like to exchange a couple of Generals for a can of condensed milk."

If you favor war, dig a trench in your backyard, fill it half full of water, crawl into it, and stay there for a day or two without anything to eat, get a lunatic to shoot at you with a brace of revolvers and a machine gun, and you will have something just as good, and you will save your country a great deal of expense.

"Who are those people who are cheering?" asked the recruit as the soldiers marched to the train.

"Those," replied the veteran, "are the people who are not going."—Puck.

He who did well in war, just earns the right
To begin doing well in peace.—Robert Browning.

A great and lasting war can never be supported on this principle [patriotism] alone. It must be aided by a prospect of interest, or some reward.—George Washington.

A report has come from Mexico concerning the doings of three revolutionary soldiers who visited a ranch, which was the property of an American spinster and her two nieces. The girls are pretty and charming, but the aunt is somewhat elderly and much faded, though evidently of a dauntless spirit. The three soldiers looked over the property and the three women, and then declared that they were tired of fighting, and had decided to marry the women and make their home on the ranch.

The two girls were greatly distressed and terrified, but even in their misery they were unselfish.

"We are but two helpless women," they said in effect, "and if we must, we bow to our cruel fate. But please—oh, please—spare our dear auntie. Do not marry her."

At this point, their old-maid relation spoke up for herself:

"Now, now, you girls—you mind your own business. War is war."

"How do countries come to go to war?" the little boy inquired, looking up from his book.

"For various reasons," explained the father. "Now, there was Germany and Russia. They went to war because the Russians mobilized."

"Not at all, my dear," the wife interrupted. "It was because the Austrians—"

"Tut, tut, my love!" the husband remonstrated. "Don't you suppose I know?"

"Certainly not—you are all wrong. It was because—"

"Mrs. Perkins, I tell you it was because—"

"Benjamin, you ought to know better, you have boggled—"

"Your opinion, madam, has not been requested in this matter."

"Shut up! I won't have my child mistaught by an ignoramus."

"Don't you dare, you impudent—"

"And don't you dare bristle at me, or I'll—"

"Oh, never mind!" the little boy intervened. "I think I know now how wars begin."

At our entry into the World War, a popular young man enlisted and before setting forth for camp in his uniform made a round of farewell calls. The girl who first received him made an insistent demand:

"You'll think of me every single minute when you're in those stupid old trenches!"

"Every minute," he agreed solemnly.

"And you'll kiss my picture every night."

"Twice a night," he vowed, with the girl's pretty head on the shoulder of the new uniform coat.

"And you'll write me long, long letters?" she pleaded.

"I'll write every spare minute," he assured her, "and if I haven't any spare minutes, I'll take 'em anyhow."

After a tender interval punctuated with similar ardent promises, he went away from there, and called on another girl. In fact, he called on ten separate and distinct pretty girls, and each of them was tender and sought his promises, which he gave freely and ardently and when it was all done with, he communed with himself somewhat sadly.

"I do hope," he said wearily, "there won't be much fighting to do over there—for I'm going to be awfully busy."

Camp Dinner

During the war, in which the eccentric Count Schaumbourg Lippe commanded the artillery in the army of Prince Frederick of Brunswick, against the French, he one day invited several Hanoverian officers to dine with him in his tent. When the company were in high spirits, and full of gaiety, several cannon balls flew in different directions about the tent. "The French," exclaimed the officers, "are not far off." "No, no," replied the Count, "the enemy, I assure you, are at a great distance; keep your seats." The firing soon afterwards recommenced; when one of the balls carrying away the top of the tent, the officers suddenly rose from their chairs, exclaiming, "The French are here!" "No," replied the Count, "the French are not here; and, therefore, gentlemen, I desire you will again sit down, and rely upon my word." The balls continued to fly about; the officers, however, continued to eat and drink without apprehension, though not without whispering their conjectures to each other upon the singularity of their entertainment. The Count, at length, rose from the table, and addressing himself to the company, said, "Gentlemen, I was willing to convince you how well I can rely upon the officers of my artillery; for I ordered them to fire during the time we continued at dinner, at the pinnacle of the tent, and they have executed my orders with great punctuality."

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