Today I'm saying a prayer for all mothers and families who've lost loved ones in wars and I include all members of the police forces who've lost their lives in the line of duty and their families. I also hope to have time to visit the Field of Honour - not too far away, where many of our veterans and fallen are buried.
St Michael is the patron Saint of soldiers (paratroopers, marines - and all others) and policemen (honourable mention to St Philip Neri too).
The True Story of a Soldier and the Intervention of St. Michael can be read at the following link:A Policeman's Prayer
St. Michael, Heaven's glorious Commissioner of Police, who once so neatly and successfully cleared God's premises of all undesirables, look with a kindly and professional eye on your earthly force. Give us cool heads, stout hearts, hard punches, an uncanny flair for investigation, and wise judgement. Make us the terror of burglars, the friend of children and law-abiding citizens, kind to strangers, polite to bores, strict with law-breakers, and impervious to temptations. You know, St. Michael, from your own experiences with the devil, that the policeman's lot on Earth is not always a happy one; but your sense of duty that so pleased God, your hard knocks that so surprised the devil, and your angelic self-control give us inspiration. And when we lay down our night sticks, enroll us in your Heavenly Force, where we will be as proud to guard the throne of God, as we have been to guard the city of men. Amen.
Here's an Excerpt:
LETTER FROM A YOUNG MARINE TO HIS MOTHER
Dear Mom .
. . . Well, one day I was with an advance detail way up over the front lines. We were scouting for the commies. I was plodding along in the bitter cold; my breath was like cigar smoke. I thought I knew every guy in the patrol, when along side of me comes another Marine I never met before. He was bigger than any other Marine I’d ever seen. He must have been over 6 feet 4 inches and built in proportion. It gave me a feeling of security to have such a body near me.
Anyway, there we were trudging along. The rest of the patrol spread out. Just to start a conversation I said, “Cold ain’t it.” And then I laughed. Here I was with a good chance of getting killed any minute and I am talking about the weather!
My companion seemed to understand. I heard him laugh softly.
I looked at him, “I’ve never seen you before. I thought I knew every man in the outfit.”
“I just joined at the last minute,” he replied, “the name is Michael.”
“Is that so,” I said surprised, “that’s my name too.”
“I know,” he said, and then went on saying the prayer, “Michael, Michael of the morning…”
I was too amazed to say anything for a minute. How did he know my name, and a prayer that you had taught me? . . .