17/08/2025
This special poem was written in honour of Eben and the men that died with him in a contact on 19 July 1975)
(Thank you out of my heart Wilfred Cameron-Dow and Beaver Shaw!)
We remember today Eben, Jannie, and John.
They stood in the dust and smoke, they gave all they had, and they did not retreat.
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.
Though the battle took them from our sight, it could not take them from God.
For the Lord of Hosts, who holds the keys of life and death, has gathered them home.
Their courage is written in the soil of Africa,
But their souls rest in the peace of Christ.
We entrust their memory to God Almighty,
Believing that one day, at the rising of the eternal sun,
We will stand with them again in glory.
To our fallen brothers, we salute you.
To our eternal God, we give thanks.
Blood River Ambush To the Fallen
The morning broke dry and cruel,
A sun without mercy on the Chesa earth.
Dust hung in the air,
And the riverbed lay silent,
Until the first crack of Terr gunfire
Split the day apart.
Machine guns roared like thunder in a canyon,
Five RPD barrels spitting death from the shadows,
Bullets slammed into the riverbed stones,
Dust and sparks flying in the choking air,
The sting of powder in the throat,
The smell of iron and blood in the sand.
Eben, the MAG gunner,
Carried the weight of fire on his shoulder.
He bore his weapon as if it were his birthright,
And when the storm came,
He did not flinch.
The dust erupted red where he fell,
But his courage burned brighter than the sun.
Jannie, the stick leader,
He stood in the torrent,
Guiding his men through the roar,
A rock amidst the storm,
Until steel silenced him,
Yet even in death his command endures.
And John,
Not with rifle raised,
But with mercy in his hands,
The medic leapt into the riverbed,
Running toward the fire, determined
To lift his wounded brothers.
Bullets cut him down,
Heaven crowned him a hero.
That very hour.
All day the battle raged,
The crack of rifles,
The rattle of machine guns,
Smoke stinging eyes,
Voices shouting through the chatter,
And the river itself seemed to bleed.
Night fell, and silence swallowed the guns,
But the cost was carved into us.
Three brothers gone,
Fallen into the dust of Africa,
Yet rising into glory.
We call it Blood River.
A name heavy with sorrow,
Yet also heavy with honor.
For from that day their story was written,
Not only in the earth,
But in the hearts of those who lived.
Eben, Jannie, John,
We salute you.
Your courage is our inheritance,
Your sacrifice our solemn memory.
We smell the smoke still,
We hear the echoes still,
But beyond the smoke and beyond the echoes,
We see you standing
Alive in the presence of God.
Now the sun sinks low over the veld,
Painting the sky in crimson and gold.
The fire of battle fades into silence,
And the long shadows stretch across the land.
Their story rests in the hush of evening,
Their names burn in the glow of the horizon.
At Blood River the day is ended,
And in the great sunset of eternity,
Our brothers march into light,
Their watch complete,
Their honor everlasting.
⸻
Prayer
Almighty God,
We stand in the shadow of sacrifice,
Where dust and smoke bore witness to courage.
We lift before You the names of Eben, Jannie, and John,
Our brothers who walked through fire,
And whose lives were poured out upon this soil.
We thank You, Lord,
That no bullet, no battle, no grave
Can take them from Your hand.
For You are the Resurrection and the Life,
And in Christ, death is swallowed in victory.
Give us, O Lord, the strength to live as they fought:
With courage, with faith, with love for one another.
Let their memory not fade,
But burn bright as a beacon of honor and devotion.
Bless their families with comfort,
Bless their comrades with peace,
And bless this land with the healing only You can bring.
As the sun sinks and shadows fall,
We entrust our brothers to You, eternal Father,
Through the blood of Christ,
In the power of the Holy Spirit,
Forever and ever.
Amen.
