In 1947 S.L.A. ‘Slam’ Marshall published a book called Men against Fire that jarred military leadership. Marshall was a veteran of WWI and a military historian who, during WWII, interviewed thousands of men regarding their experience of combat. His basic conclusion was that the average man’s experience of battle was strikingly different from what he had expected. Men knew that combat would be frightening and that it would test the full resources of their mental, emotional, and physical energy. But battle, thought they, would be a kind of amped up version of a high school football game. Adrenalin would surge, a spirit of camaraderie would prevail, and a sense of duty would make up for a deficit of strength and courage. That was, at least, how Hollywood had presented war.
What men actually experienced was nothing like this. At the first sound of enemy fire all soldiers immediately dropped to the ground losing sight and communication with fellow comrades. Suddenly, the individual soldier felt horrifyingly alone and uncontrollably afraid. Whereas he had expected the enemy to be a plain target, in fact, the enemy was equally scared and therefore equally hidden. The most controversial aspect of Marshall’s book was his claim that, on average, only one in four soldiers ended up firing his weapon. The rest were too shocked, afraid, and alone to be of much tactical use.
Regardless of the merit of Marshall’s research, his description of men on the battlefield is a useful image for understanding the experience of Christian men as they seek to honor Christ in the real world. A lot of men expect the work of the devil to be obvious. They think that their inner resolve will be sufficient to keep them on the right track in the face of difficulties. They assume that their relationships with other Christians are strong enough to support them through suffering and temptation. They are like the first wave of British soldiers at the Somme who happily climbed out of their trenches thinking that the battle was under control. A lot of guys never foresee the degree to which weakness, fear, anxiety, and loneliness will grip them in the midst of affliction and leave them paralyzed or desiring to flee the frontline.
This naivety is why a lot of men do not invest in spiritual friendship. During comfortable phases of life, friendship feels like a luxury. ‘I can manage on my own’ is the unspoken conviction of men when skies are fair. But like the North Sea the conditions of life can change rapidly. A crisis strikes and suddenly men discover that no one knows them well enough to be of help. Or, just as pernicious, a more subtle drift occurs so that a man follows the deceitfulness of sin without there being anyone close enough to deliver a much needed rebuke. The consequences of this isolation can be devastating. Like people climbing out of the rubble after an earthquake, a lot of men wake up in their late 40s to the realization that that their wife is gone, their kids hate them, and that the BMW in the garage doesn’t fill the void. They are like drivers who have driven through the night not realizing a wrong turn was taken 500 miles back. If they had had someone in the passenger seat, the error might have been detected.
Interestingly, one of the chief recommendations of Marshall was to reorganize fighting units around what he called ‘fire-teams’. A fire-team consisted of a handful of soldiers who were careful to maintain communication and to protect each other’s’ backs. If set within such a group, men who otherwise hid from the face of battle found strength and courage to fulfill their assignments. Christians ought to ponder the spiritual implications of this observation.