During an expedition of the French into Kebylia, a desperate charge of the Arabian cavalry forced a company of French soldiers into a narrow spot. It was a fierce encounter, with great loss on both sides.

The French lost many men at the first attack. In their retreat they had left the wounded behind on the battle-field. Among others, an old French sergeant lay dangerously wounded.

He was in terrible danger of being killed by the enemy. But then he remembered a medal of the Blessed Virgin which he wore around his neck. Taking it in his hands, he exclaimed:

“Holy Virgin, if you save me from my enemies, I promise you that as soon as I am discharged from the service, I will consecrate the rest of my life as a religious in a Trappist monastery.”

The Arabian cavalry passed near him twice, once in charging the French, and again in beating a retreat, but they did not notice him. After the battle he was taken to the hospital of Algiers, and tenderly nursed. His wounds soon healed, but he was declared unfit for further service.

The old soldier now thought of nothing but fulfilling his promise, and was soon on his way to the monastery.

Once he arrived, he asked to see the Father Abbot, and said to him:

“I have come to beg you to allow me to fulfill a vow I made during the late war. I promised the Blessed Virgin, in gratitude for Her maternal protection, that I would become a Trappist when discharged from the army.”

The Abbot explained to him all the difficulties that lay in the way.

“The life of a Trappist,” he said, “is very different from the life of a soldier. I fear you will become discouraged by the solitude and austerities required by all who embrace our Order. Here you would have to humble yourself to the dust.”

“Father,” answered the sergeant, “you forget that a faithful soldier is capable of the greatest sacrifices in serving his country. Could I be less generous in the service of my God?”

After a retreat of eight days, during which he followed the exercises with military precision, the sergeant was admitted to the novitiate, receiving the name of Brother Martial. For some time, he edified all his fellow brethren by his good conduct. Then one day, the Father Abbot gave him a humiliation in presence of the entire community.

“The Brother whom you see before you,” said the Abbot, “is still remembered by the military authorities for his conduct during the last expedition in Kebylia. I will say no more, only I beg you to pray for him.”

The soldier-monk’s face grew red; his eyes kindled with anger and resentment. He was about to demand an explanation of these vague words, but he looked upon his Crucifix and remained silent.

For several days he bore his humiliation. The rule of silence forbade him to speak one word to defend himself. He imagined that all his brethren thought very poorly of him. Still, he tried to be patient, remembering that the Abbot had once said, in the words of St. Bernard,

“There is no humility without mortification,” and that in order to be a good monk, one must be content to be considered the least of men. Very soon a sweet peace entered his heart, and he saw that his soldierly pride had made him exaggerate the humiliation he was subjected to.

This incident had happened for another reason, too. The Abbot had been testing the monk's obedience, by putting him in a situation where the only way the he could have defended himself would have been by breaking the rule of silence. Now, he was proud of the soldier-monk, for he had passed the test with flying colors. At the end of the week the Abbot again summoned him before the assembled Chapter.

“My brethren,” he said, “bless God, Who has given grace to Brother Martial. Now that the time of trial is past, I will say that this brother was one of the bravest soldiers in Kebylia. You have all witnessed his resignation and humility; witness now his glorification. So it will be in the better world. He that humbles himself shall be exalted.”