Forged in Honor (1995) (2 page)

"Benjamin wanted a son more than anything in this world," she'd said. "He got you, Joshua, and he's looking down from heaven watching you grow. I know he's real proud."

Joshua lifted his eyes toward the cloudless sky, hoping his mother was right and that his real father could see all the way to Burma.

Pastor Brown, a mountain of a man with a full, dark brown beard, met the boat at Namti with a kiss for his new wife and a handshake for Joshua. He had porters load the baggage into two relics-World War II American ammunition carriers-and the great adventure continued. In two days they traveled just ninety miles, over the worst roads Joshua had ever seen. At least ten times they had to ford streams because bridges were washed out; on the second day they had to stop to dig out a mud slide that covered the rutted dirt road. Constantly climbing, they finally left the oppressive heat of the jungle river country and lowlands and entered the pine and teak-covered mountains of northern Burma. They saw no other motorized vehicles, only mule and bullock drawn wagons filled with brown, gnarled people wearing turbans, who chattered and waved, some with smiles and some with hostile glares. On the third day, after negotiating a twisting mountain road barely big enough for their carriers, they arrived at the mission in the village of Shaduzup.

Joshua had expected grass-covered huts, but there were none. Henry Brown was a builder of more than faith, and he had done miracles in the five years he'd been the pastor of Shaduzup. He had constructed a church, a school, a dormitory, and a residence on the outskirts of the village. And he had also helped rebuild the village houses with clay bricks and pine boards. It wasn't the town of Leavenworth, but it wasn't a heathen camp with naked natives running around either. All the villagers were dressed in too-big Western clothing from the missionary barrels sent from the States, and most spoke broken English except for words like "Jesus Christ" and "salvation," which were pronounced flawlessly.

That first night, Henry explained that Joshua and Sarah would have to learn a new way of life. There was no electricity or phones, televisions, radios, or even indoor toilets. All drinking water had to be boiled, and vegetables could not be eaten raw unless scrubbed and soaked in chlorine-treated water for a full day. All major supplies had to be ordered from Rangoon and shipped up the Irawaddy, then trucked over the horrible road they had traveled to the mission. Supplies often didn't arrive for months. Some canned goods were included among the supplies, but they were expensive so the mission ate mostly local food. Mail came about every two weeks, depending on the weather and the condition of the road.

Henry explained that the Burmese who lived in the lowlands and major cities considered themselves the true Burmese. Most were Buddhist and were not open to God's word. The rest of the population was made up of mountain tribes. Here in the northern mountains, the most predominant tribe was the Shan.

Henry led his new family out onto the covered front porch and waved his huge hand toward the mountains. "The Shan are like the Mayans of Mexico," he said. "Centuries ago the Shan kingdom was a great nation ruling all of Burma. But like the Mayans, for unknown reasons their nation crumbled.

Today, the Shan live here in small villages in the northern mountains they call the Shan State. Most of them are animistic, believing in forest gods, myths, and superstition. They have many heathen customs-they take more than one wife, and they will not bury their loved ones until enough wealth is obtained for a proper funeral party. In many of the villages petrified bodies have sat in corners of huts for years. Also, a woman cannot marry until a large dowry is raised by her family. In several of the villages I have visited, there have been no marriages for three years.

"The mountain Shan have disgusting personal habits. They smoke huge, rolled-up leaves filled with horrid-smelling tobacco and chew something called betel nut, which turns their mouths red. Another vice is their love of zu, an alcoholic drink made from rice. Any event such as a birth or a death or a stranger's visit-or even a trivial thing like a change in the weather-calls for a drinking celebration. Drunkenness is very common."

Henry shifted his intense eyes back to his family. "This country is very dangerous, filled with evil men. Bandits roam in packs. There are no police or government soldiers here, so you must be careful when outside Shaduzup and always have elders of the church with you when traveling. We do have a Sawbaw, a warlord of sorts who is supposed to protect us, but I have found him to be nothing more than a bandit himself."

Seeing Joshua's wide eyes expand even more on hearing about the bandits, Sarah tried to change the subject. "Tell Joshua about the politics of the country."

Henry leaned against the porch rail. "Since Britain gave up its Burma colony at the end of World War II, the Shan have wanted independence from the Burmese government, but it has never been granted. The Burmese government is ruled by the army, which has spent years trying to bring the rebellious Shan under control. The army has sent units into the north to stamp out the resistance, but they have always met with defeat. It has been a standoff for years now, and we must thank God for this. It gives us time to show these people the only way to true peace is through God's word."

Henry broke into a smile and again waved his arm toward the darkened mountains. "The devil has corrupted their hearts and souls with ignorance, but we will deliver them. It is a fertile land awaiting only God's word, and we are the chosen ones to show these wretched souls the light."

"Amen," Sarah said, staring at the mountains with determination.

Joshua nodded to show his support but didn't really understand everything. The part about the fierce Shan rebels, however, did get his attention, and he hoped he would be able to see some. It would be neat.

They used the first days in their new home to get settled and learn their duties. Sarah would be a teacher and nurse and Joshua would be a student, a wood and egg gatherer, and a helper for the native cook and gardener. Although Henry had a Shan assistant pastor and four other native church helpers, it was evident to both newcomers that the mission revolved around Henry. And to him, the mission school was the key, for the Shan people's young, not as biased as their elders by the old customs and traditions, were more open to God's word. It was the young whom Henry expected to become God's disciples and to go out in the wilderness and convert more of their own. The mission taught just over fifty children. Most were from Shaduzup, but twenty were from outlying villages and lived at the school dormitory.

It was the young age of the children that was a problem for Joshua. Most of the boys were nine or younger, so he found himself the oldest boy in the school. He had no one to play with or talk to except the schoolgirls. Henry explained that Shan families needed all boys over ten to work. Joshua learned to do his chores quickly after his classes so that he could take off and explore and get away from his inquisitive female classmates. Within days he learned his way around the village and met some boys his age, but as Henry had said, they were working-gathering wood, tending the crops and bullocks. Despite Henry's warnings, Joshua ventured a little farther each day and soon found that the whitewashed Christian world Henry had built was only a very small island surrounded by a sea of green.

Beyond the whitewashed village and cultivated fields, Joshua learned, the real northern mountain Shan lived in the protective darkness and majesty of the forest. These people were alive, laughing, crying, praying to stones and to gods of the forest. None wore the Western clothes from the mission barrels but rather long ankle-length, homespun skirts, loose fitting shirts, and the traditional blue turban of the Shan.

They were small people, almost delicate looking, but they were the strongest people Joshua had ever seen. Their lives revolved around working and hunting to provide food for the family, yet they lived within a web of customs and traditions that affected all that they did. Joshua sometimes pitied them for their hardships, but more often he envied them, for they were proud of who they were.

A month after arriving in Shaduzup, Joshua was playing on the bank of a small river that ran five hundred yards below the village. He and the younger boys from the school were trying to spear fish like the elder fishermen but were having no luck, so they soon began jumping off the huge boulders into the cool, inviting water. Joshua was poised to leap when the boys' laughter was drowned out by the loud clanging of the mission church bell. Every head turned toward the distant steeple, the radiant smiles replaced with looks of terror. Joshua froze when he saw the other boys' reaction. The bell wasn't ringing as it did on Sunday with three-second intervals between clangs. Instead it was clanging rapidly. Joshua turned to ask what the ringing meant, but the other boys were all running toward the village as if their lives depended on it.

Scared, Joshua joined in the flight to Shaduzup as fast as he could run. His fear doubled when he got within a hundred yards of the first buildings, for he could see screaming villagers running hysterically toward the church. Some carried chickens and small pigs, others pieces of furniture, and all were pushing their terrified children ahead of them. As Joshua got closer he saw two of the village men carrying antique-looking rifles. Unlike the other people, they weren't running, but they did have the same look of terror on their faces. Joshua slowed and yelled to one of the men. "U Wat, what is happening?"

"Bandits! Run to the mission!"

Joshua came to an abrupt halt and looked in the direction the two men were facing. There were three men on small, shaggy ponies, stopped on a rise just out of rifle range. They were bearded and wore filthy white turbans and light green uniform shirts and pants. They had bandoleers strapped to their chests and rifles slung over their shoulders. Joshua's heart felt as if it were going to pound through his chest, but at the same time he was strangely thrilled to see actual bandits. Then the center horseman turned in his saddle and waved toward the forest behind him.

Joshua stopped breathing as at least thirty more horsemen rode out of the trees in a perfect line. Unlike the first three riders, the larger formation was all dressed in dark blue turbans, jackets, and pants. Swords hung from the men's belts, and bandoleers crisscrossed their chests. With stiff backs, heads and eyes set to the front, they advanced with their rifles resting menacingly across the front of the saddles.

The two village men lowered their old guns and slowly backed up, one of them gasping, "The Chindit."

Joshua was frozen in place, unable to take his eyes off the approaching men. One of the horsemen raised a hand and barked a command. The mounted formation came to a halt, and a single rider galloped from the tree line on a sleek, jet-black horse. His turban was cobalt blue but his billowing clothes were raven black. A huge curved sword hung from his belt and glistened in the sun as the line of horsemen made a gap for him to pass.

Joshua finally took a breath, looked behind him, and saw that the village men had abandoned him. The village had fallen oppressively silent. Then he heard the dull thuds of the fast-approaching hoof beats. The sound became louder and louder until Joshua could feel the ground vibrate beneath his feet. He slowly turned back to face the lone rider who was bearing down on him. Everything within Joshua's being was screaming for him to run, but the approaching rider's magnetic eyes held him in place.

The rider reined back and brought the snorting animal to a dusty halt only a few feet away. After keeping his stare on the boy for a full ten seconds, the rider finally spoke. "So you alone challenge me?"

Joshua tried to speak, but he had no saliva. All he could think to do was nod. The rider burst out laughing and waved his men forward. He was still laughing as he leaned over and offered his hand. "Little Sao, a brave soldier such as you must ride."

Joshua was mesmerized by the regal bearing of the man before him. The rider was not Shan; he was big and his face was long and angular as if chiseled from stone. His piercing eyes were hazelnut brown and seemed to look right through Joshua. The boy's gaze slowly lowered to the leader's offered hand. On his wrist was a thin silver band that gleamed in the hot sun.

Taking a breath for strength, Joshua raised his arm.

In a single movement the leader grasped the boy's hand and swung him up on the saddle behind him. The spell broken as the rider prodded the home forward, Joshua asked excitedly, "Are you really a bandit?"

The rider bellowed with laughter and translated for the other riders what the boy had asked. They all laughed and smiled but none spoke. The leader patted Joshua's leg. "I have killed men for calling me such things, but you are a brave lad and I will answer you true. I am many things, little Sao, but a bandit I am not. I am your Protector."

The leader and his horsemen rode through the deserted village and halted in front of the church, where the people of Shaduzup had gathered. Over two hundred villagers stood behind their pastor, whose bearded face was set in stone. The villagers all bowed their heads toward the lead rider, but Henry only lowered his eyes for an instant before speaking coldly. "You put fear into the hearts of us all, Chindit. We thought your men were bandits."

The leader's eyes lost their gleam and his face tightened.

"Greetings and blessings to you too, Pastor Brown. I see you still have not learned your manners." The rider then smiled and dipped his chin. "I am truly sorry for the mistake. My lead scouts dress as bandits because we are on the hunt for three gangs that have been reported in this area. Even you, a godly man, can see the tactical advantage of this deception."