Originally celebrated in 1919 throughout the British Commonwealth as Armistice Day, Remembrance Day was designed to remember the armistice that ended the First World War at 11am on 11 November 1918. It is a day to honour the memory of those who gave their lives in service to their countries, their families, their friends, and their freedoms.
Regular Melbourne Catholic contributor Joe Doolan reflects below on the recently published collection of letters entitled, Stronger than Steel: Soldiers of the Great War write to Thérèse of Lisieux (2021, Angelico Press). It tells the story of hundreds of soldiers who prayed to Sister Thérèse Martin and who would read her spiritual memoir, Story of a Soul, to others in the trenches. On this significant day, Joe also recalls his own grandfather’s experiences in the Great War, as told in his journal from 1917.
My first encounter with the horrors of the First World War came from reading, and later teaching, the famous 1929 novel by Erich Maria Remarque, All Quiet on the Western Front. In that text I was confronted with the terror of warfare but after a hundred pages even that story seemed to soften somewhat and the reader became immune to the conflict.
In 2017, my family read the diary of our grandfather, Laurence Francis Moroney, written a century earlier from the western front. His small daily journal gave some detail of his engagement in the conflict but contained no graphic or gruesome account of the bloodshed that ensued.
It was therefore quite a shock for me to read the harrowing accounts of this war in the newly translated text, Stronger than Steel: Soldiers of the Great War write to Thérèse of Lisieux (2021, Angelico Press). The book is a collection of letters from French soldiers during the Great War, each sharing their wonderful devotion to St Thérèse of Lisieux. A word of warning: the accounts in this book are not for the faint hearted. Set in northern France, the 78 letters in the collection have a simple premise: amidst very definite danger hundreds of soldiers prayed to Sister Thérèse Martin.
In their stories of constant bombardment, breathtaking escapes and recovery from wounds they powerfully attribute God’s providential care to the direct intercession of Sister Thérèse. Many carried with them a photo or a small metal container with her relic. We also hear that some soldiers read her story and spiritual memoir, Story of a Soul, to others in the trenches.
Who was the “Little Flower”?
Marie Françoise-Thérèse Martin (later known as St Thérèse of the Child Jesus, or the “Little Flower”) was born in 1873 to Louis and Zélie Martin and would later become a Discalced Carmelite. From a young age, Thérèse wanted to perform heroic deeds and to do the will of Jesus. She lived a somewhat unremarkable life in the convent and her early death at 24 years old (after three years intense suffering) could easily have been the last anyone would have heard of her. But Story of a Soul revealed to the world her simple steps along the road to sanctity.
Within 10 years of Thérèse’s death, her cause for canonisation had already commenced. By 1910 the process was in full swing and her Carmelite convent had received more than 9,700 letters telling of the assistance that the young Carmelite offered those who prayed to her. In 1914, at the outbreak of the war, Pope Pius X officially opened her cause for canonisation. By this time the convent was receiving 200 letters a day!
Though her cause for canonisation was not finally achieved until 1923, it was well on the way in the years prior to the Great War. Little wonder that so many soldiers prayed to the “Little Flower”, as she called herself.
Several things intrigue me about this story.
How did this quiet Carmelite sister so arrest the spiritual lives of young soldiers? Wouldn’t you think that they would rather pray to the valiant warrior St Joan of Arc (1430s)? Or perhaps to St Isaac Jogues (1640s) who courageously returned to certain martyrdom in North America?
So convinced were these Frenchmen of Thérèse’s spiritual assistance during the war that they not only wrote to Lisieux accurately recounting their experience but, in many cases, donating their medals to the Carmelite convent.
Why did French soldiers read St Thérèse’s spiritual classic, Story of a Soul? It is quite a leap to read from her famous spiritual testament then turn to this new text recounting blood soaked trenches filled with the dead and dying.
What strikes me in exploring the soldier’s stories was the close association that these young Frenchmen had with Sister Thérèse through their prayer.
Why did these soldiers pray to Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus?
Was it the Scripture? Perhaps it was for the selected scriptural quotes that filled every page of her published spiritual memoir? In the same style of St Augustine and St Bernard, Thérèse’s writings are filled with Sacred Scripture and form a primer on Catholic spirituality. Though she embeds in her testimony quotes from St John of the Cross and the Imitation of Christ by Thomas à Kempis, Thérèse’s spiritual scaffold was God’s word. French soldiers listening to her testimony would hear a faith story flooded with the love of God.
Was it her small trials? What would Thérèse’s accounts of these trivial trials evoke in a military engagement? Thérèse’s testimony recounts her irritation at one of her sisters who continually “clicks” her Rosary behind her in chapel. Thérèse prays, then transcends this sound offering the discomfort to God and finally rejoices in the suffering. From then on when Thérèse pays close attention to the click, it becomes a ‘delightful concert’. In the convent laundry, Thérèse endured some dirty water being flicked across her face from a sister vigorously washing handkerchiefs. She prays to God, and then has a desire to receive more of this wastewater, given so generously by God!
When you contrast relentless bombing with the click of Rosary beads, or the blood of bayonet battle with the flick of dirty water it sounds like a joke! Yet no matter what happens to Thérèse, she maintains her intimate contact with God, her divine engagement. She desired to be someone with whom God would want to consort.
Was it her suffering? For these soldiers’ stories, some of whom were wounded or dying, the final chapters of St Thérèse’s text might have been especially encouraging. While completing her written testimony she was suffering greatly and coughing blood, but her focus was never on herself. Only in an editor’s footnote of a later edition do we read that Thérèse was actually writing from a wheelchair.
A sense of certainty
What did these young soldiers make of Thérèse’s response to suffering? One can only surmise what effect Thérèse’s simple incidents of convent life had on young French soldiers, but one thing is clear: the life and writings of this young Carmelite gave them certitude! The encounter with her steadfast belief in God strengthened their faith and that of thousands, now millions, of believers. Pope Benedict XVI calls this the ‘certitude of having received the saving knowledge and redeeming love to which all people have a claim, and for which, in the inmost depths of their being, they are waiting.’[1]
Heroes and heroines of our faith
Stronger than Steel tells of a redeeming love that many young soldiers found through the inspiration of St Thérèse of Lisieux.
In this month of November, which commenced with the memory of All Saints and All Souls, the heroes and heroines of our faith and our lives, we ponder some great questions: Who will inspire the young people of our day? Which holy lives or courageous acts will lead us to the steadfast love of God and gentle love of neighbour? And though we endure a certain bombardment with worldwide issues, what life stories will offer the certainty of faith that these young soldiers gained over a century ago?
Finally, who will become the new saints to inspire the next generation: the ‘new Christian constellations in which the richness of God’s goodness is reflected?’[2]
Stronger than Steel: Soldiers of the Great War write to Thérèse of Lisieux (2021, Angelico Press) is available to purchase from the Central Catholic Bookshop.
[1] Pope Benedict XVI, Truth and Tolerance (Ignatius Press, 2004), 55,56.^ Back to top
[2] Pope Benedict XVI, The Spirit of the Liturgy (Ignatius Press, 2000), 111.^ Back to top
