The following inspiring episode from World War II, written by Sr. Mary
Sheila O'Neil and reported in the October-December, 1979 issue of Garabandal
Magazine (P.O. Box 606 Lindenhurst, New York 11757 USA) also illustrates the
power of the Rosary:
It was a busy day in March. As a teacher-principal in the 1950's, I had
to make sure that each day provided the time for the two separate roles. On
that March fourth, an incident between a teacher and a parent had kept me out
of my class for almost an hour that morning, so for the rest of the day, I was
desperately trying to make up class time. Hence, the knock on my door at 2:00
p.m. was not welcome.
With relief, I found it was only a salesman who needed my signature and
even produced his pen. As he did so, his Rosary had caught onto the pen's clip
and came out as well. I signed as I said indifferently, "So, you are a
Catholic." "Oh no," he said, "but a lot of us owe our lives
to Our Lady, and I promised Her I would always keep my Rosary with me and say
it every day."
Twenty minutes later, I was
still at the door listening, fascinated, to the account of one of the wonderful
experiences a group of airmen had had with Our Lady. My visitor hesitated to
start, for he had noticed my "non welcome" opening of the door. But
eager now to hear his story, I assured him that the class was doing an
exercise, and I begged him to proceed.
He continued: It was May,
1940, and we had joined the Air Force in late September. At Halifax, we were
given an intensive training course, because they needed us overseas, and to us
young lads, the whole program was exciting.
We were grouped into
squadrons, each of which consisted of six to ten planes, and each was trained
to maneuver as a unit. Therefore about thirty to fifty men made up a squadron,
along with the squadron leader who gave all the orders and kept the group
functioning in unity.
In May, our squadron was
told we were going overseas and would be in action at once. We would work on
nightly missions over enemy territory until the war was over. We were waiting
for our new squadron leader, due to arrive in two days on a 9:00 p.m. air-force
flight. Being an officer, he would, we thought, go at once to the officers'
quarters.
We watched the plane,
glimpsed him from the distance, and resigned ourselves to waiting until the
next day to "size him up." A couple of hours later, this squadron
leader, Stan Fulton, in full uniform, entered our bunk house.
“Well men, we're going to
spend some dangerous hours together, but let's hope we all meet back here when
it's over. Ah, there's a free bunk and I am tired! I'll meet each of you
tomorrow.”
With that, he threw his bag
on an upper bunk. Our squadron leader, an officer, sleeping here with us! We
liked him at once and our liking and our admiration grew each day.
That first night he knelt
on the floor and prayed his Rosary in silence. Astounded, we were struck dumb.
When he finished, he looked at us with his friendly smile and said, “I hope you
guys don't mind a fellow saying some prayers because where we're going, we're
going to need them.”
The next day our maneuver
practice, under his command, assured us that Fulton was not just our military
leader, but our friend. He was one of us; he never tried to intimidate us with
his rank.
That night, he repeated his
prayer session. Although our group had trained together for six months at
least, I had never seen anyone kneel in prayer, and had no idea that any of our
group was Catholic; but the third night three of our companions joined Fulton
in saying the Rosary. The rest of us did not understand but we kept a
respectful silence. A few nights
later — we were quick learners — we all answered the Hail Marys and Our
Fathers. Fulton looked pleased, and thus we ended each day in prayer.
On June 1, 1940, we were to
leave Halifax to begin a series of night raids from England over Germany. The
evening before, Fulton gave each of us a Rosary.
“We shall be in some tight
situations, but then, if you agree, we'll say the Rosary. If you will promise
to keep the Rosary with you always throughout your life and to say it, I can
promise you that Our Lady will bring you all back safe to Canada.”
We answered, “Sure thing.”
Little did we dream we would be in action for four years, many times in
dreadful danger with fire all around us. At such times, Fulton's voice would
ring through each plane, “Hail Mary...” How reverently and sincerely did we
respond! How many hundreds of Rosaries we must have said.
After two years, it was
noted that ours was the only squadron that had not lost a plane nor a single
life. We said nothing, but we knew.
Finally, the terrible war
was over. During those years, we lost all sense of excitement and adventure.
All that concerned us was survival! We did survive, too. All returned to Canada
in 1945, fully convinced that Our Lady had taken care of us.
So I never forget to keep
my Rosary with me and say it every day although I am not a Catholic. When I
change my trousers, the first thing I transfer, even before my wallet, is my
rosary.