The following poem was written by a fellow Christian brother in arms , imprisoned by the ZOG in Florida , circa 1993 .
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" Hold until the King comes , " was the twelve men's last command ;
For the glory of Yahshuah they would make their final stand .
On the plains of Armageddon in a shell hole filled with mud ;
They would fight the host of Magog to the last red drop of blood .
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They had fought a running battle in the sleet and driving rain ;
From once was a battalion , only twelve men did remain ,
Hungry , tired and wounded with their ammo running low ,
No time for rest , they dug in deep and waited for the foe .
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The noonday sky was dark as dusk with the smoke of a thousand fires ;
The nation's once - proud cities had become as funeral pyres .
Plague and famine stalked the land like a ravenous , rabid beast ,
And four - score million of Isaac's sons fell 'neath the army of the East .
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This nation had once known its God and followed His commands ,
And while it served the King of kings , it prospered by His hand .
But , alas , this stiff - necked people had wandered from the fold ;
Rather than worship The Lord of Hosts , they worshiped a god of gold .
Now Judgement Day had fallen on this sinful , stubborn race ;
For those who had turned from the one true God , there was no hiding place .
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From out of the North , the heathen horde swept down upon the plain ;
Their thundering treads ground to mud the bodies of the slain .
The mountains of new Israel shook , and all men feared their end ,
Except for twelve brave men in black with whom the heathen must contend .
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These grim - faced men were kinsmen in The Ekklesia of the King ;
They were knights in Yahweh's service , they were stones in Yahweh's sling .
Each man bore a sable cross upon his armored chest ,
A symbol of his service to the folk of the Christian West .
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Now over a dark horizon crawled a vast and fearsome sight ,
The vanguard of an armored host , resplendent in all its might .
Through the valley of decision rolled the army , wheel to wheel ;
Shoulder to shoulder and tread to tread , like an advancing storm of steel .
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In the land of unwalled cities , they came for spoil and prey ,
But in a shell hole in the valley , twelve men barred the way .
In the face of overwhelming odds , twelve men prayed as one ;
As they prayed they prepared for war ; there was cleansing to be done .
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" Almighty Yahweh , our Father in Heaven , hallowed be thy name . "
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The machinegun's bolt slid rearward along its well - oiled track ,
As Death stood with a mocking grin behind the gunners back .
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" Lord , it is nothing for thee to help , whether for few or for them that have no power . "
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Mortar rounds were fused and stacked , helmet straps were tightened ;
Weary hands found weapons grips , and knuckles tensed and whitened .
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" Help us , O Lord our God , for we rest on thee , and in Thy name we go against this great multitude . "
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Ammo was passed from man to man , rockets were raised and shouldered ;
Deep within each black - garbed knight , the wrath of the Saxon smouldered.
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" O Lord , Thou art our God ; let not this infidel prevail against these , Thy servants . "
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Swords were drawn and bayonets fixed ; the captain checked his map ;
The hord was nearly in their range and quickly closed the gap .
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" May Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven ; Amen ! "
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The calm of the Holy Spirit fell upon that mud filled lair ,
And each man knew within his heart that God had heard their prayer .
Fingers took up trigger slack and thunder rolled on high .
Carrion birds circled the field on which men soon must die .
The captain raised his senewed arm to prepare his men to fire ,
And spoke these words of courage to those Christian knights bemired :
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" Stand strong , kinsmen ; have no fear .
We'll bury and burn 'em for seven years ! "
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