On the annniversary of the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, which opened the hostilities that became World War I, and with the kind permission of the National Library of Australia's Trove Site, I'm happy to present this 1916 article about devotion to Therese among the soldiers of World War I.  [Citation: 1916 'THE STORY OF 'THE LITTLE FLOWER," Freeman's Journal (Sydney, NSW : 1850 - 1932), 19 October, p. 8, viewed 29 June, 2014, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article115590570].  Therese was the granddaughter of two soldiers of Napoleon. She saw herself during her lifetime as engaged in a spiritual combat for souls, and it is evident that she did not forget the soldiers after her death.

  I present a thumbnail image of the newspaper article.  The text appears underneath them, here on my own site, for easier reading.

THE STORY OF 'THE LITTLE FLOWER’
FRENCH SOLDIERS AND SISTER THERESE,
RELICS ON REGIMENTAL FLAG  

Paris.

I had occasion the other day to meet Monsignor de Teil 'postulateur'— to use a technical term; — of the process of beatification of Soeur Therese de Lisieux, the young Carmelite nun who, although, she died only nineteen years ago, is now so well known throughout the Catholic world. Her brief life passed almost entirely in the silence of a Carmelite convent seemed to ordinary observers, identical with, the lives of any regular and fervent religious: there were no ecstasies, no apparently marvelous manifestations about it.

Therese was a young girl of fifteen, when she became a nun, and she was but twenty-four when, after a lingering illness, she died as happy as a tired child going home. Her chief characteristics were her ardent love for and confidence in God and her extreme simplicity. Although her exterior life was marked by no extraordinary manifestations, its interior perfection deeply impressed her Prioress, who, in consequence, commanded her to write the story of her vocation; a happy thought, as it proved, for it is the book thus written, from obedience, that made the little Sister's name known throughout the Christian world, for the greater happiness of many souls.

A Promise Fulfilled 

Soeur Therese died at Lisieux, in September, 1897, aged twenty-four. One of her last utterances seemed to prophesy the countless favours that have been obtained through her intercession. 'I wish,' she said, 'to spend my time in Heaven in doing good on earth. After my death I will scatter a shower of roses.' It was this 'shower' of graces, and also the important testimonies received in Rome as to Soeur Therese's holiness, that induced Pope Pius X. to 'introduce her cause' in June, 1914, and as we write these lines the process of beatification is being pursued before the Congregation of Rites [today the Congregation for the Causes of Saints], with every prospect of success.

The 'shower' of favours that the little Sister predicted has never fallen so abundantly as since the beginning of the terrific conflict that weighs so heavily on thousands of hearts. Before me lies a tiny pamphlet published by the Carmelite nuns of Lisieux. There is no attempt to sound the little nun's praises, no high-flown or sensational stories, in this modest booklet; it merely quotes some extracts of the hundreds of letters that pour into the convent from the line of fire; they come not only from ignorant soldiers, but also from officers of every rank, to whom, strange as it may appear, the sweet memory of Soeur Therese brings comfort and strength in their strenuous struggle.

Letters from Soldiers    

An English diplomat writes that the Catholic British 'Tommies' possess and treasure relics of the 'Little Flower,' as she is generally called by her English clients; a  British chaplain that 'hundreds of soldiers' beg him for her pictures or relics; another that the influence she exercises upon the men in life and death is truly wonderful.

A French soldier, says a Red Cross nurse, died after kissing her picture, and his last words were: 'Little Sceur Therese, come and fetch me!' A Capuchin soldier, who has won the Croix de Guerre, writes: ''She continues to protect me; when I go to the trenches, the shells seem to avoid me.'  Another : 'I am no longer a lonely soldier: whoever prays God and the dear little Sister is never alone on earth.'  A colonel writes: 'The little saint has visibly protected my regiment; it has done more hard work and suffered fewer losses than any.'  Captain  A., after fifteen months campaigning, is the only officer of his regiment who is unhurt. His wife writes to Lisieux that 'when the danger is greatest he never fails to whisper, 'Sister Therese, protect us!'  Some of his men remarked, 'Our captain is always standing up under a hail of fire, and we cannot understand how it is that he is unwounded.'

Relics on Regimental Flag

On certain flags is sewn a picture of the young Carmelite. 'We are going to fasten her relics to our flag and to take her into battle with us,' writes Colonel de L; and a private, who at first refused to believe in her power, now says in a letter dated March 16th, 1916 : 'I have now been obliged to yield to evidence, and have become a devotee of the little saint.'

 The French prisoners in the German camps read the life of the little Sister. 'It is never to be found on the shelves of our camp library,' says a soldier-priest; and another adds that 'Sister Therese is the consolation of our prisoners, whom she visibly protects.' A non-commissioned officer in the same camp says: 'You cannot imagine the good done here by Sister Therese. I cannot take a step without hearing of the favours obtained through her intercession.'

A Place of Pilgrimage

The humble grave at Lisieux is frequented  by many soldiers and officers on leave.

A young airman, who married lately, went there on his wedding day with his bride, to thank the 'Little Flower' for past favours. Another pilgrim writes that he found the grave surrounded by soldiers, one of whom, taking off his Croix de Guerre, fixed it to the wooden cross at the head of the grave, shedding tears of gratitude.  

Decorations of  all kinds: Military Medals, the Legion of Honour, the Croix de Guerre, arrive daily at Lisieux as thank-offerings, and are carefully put aside by the Carmelites until the hoped-for beatification of Soeur Therese allows them to pay her public honour. In the meantime, over the bloody fields of battle at the front and in anxious or bereaved circles at home, the young Carmelite scatters her 'shower of roses,' graces of preservation from death, or spiritual favours that make death acceptable. To the letters that I have quoted I might add others that tell how Sister Therese has made her presence known in a supernatural manner to those who invoke her; but in these matters the greatest prudence is necessary, and we  give the contents of the letters as they were given to us, without in any way forestalling  the judgment of the Church. They serve, at any rate, to prove the confidence with which the little Carmelite's clients bring her their anxieties at this crucial moment.

A Supernatural Message

A nun, known in the world as the Comtesse de X, had two brothers ; both were officers, and both were killed by a shell in August, 1914. The eldest was a practical Catholic, the second had given his sister much anxiety, and when he came to bid her good-bye he refused to go to Holy Communion like his elder brother, but he allowed his sister to pin a relic, of Soeur Therese to his tunic, and he promised never to cease to wear it. Some months elapsed, the two brothers having fallen in Alsace, on German soil. It was only in March, 1915, that Sister X was informed of their deaths, and with the news came a pencil note from the younger, saying that he had just received the Last Sacraments.  'In your prayers,' said the note, 'pray for me; I could not die without telling you that I am converted. My two legs and one arm have been carried off.'  This letter reached Sister X through the Prioress of Lisieux, to whom it was sent by a comrade of. the dead officer.  When she wrote to acknowledge it, Sister X informed the Prioress that she already knew of its contents. She had been officially informed, without any details, of the death of her two brothers, and with her sorrow for both mingled keen anxiety as to the spiritual condition of the younger.  She became ill from grief, and, having daily recommended the younger to Sister Therese, was almost inclined to resent what she considered a betrayal of trust on the part of her heavenly friend.

On March 6th, 1915, in the evening, Sister X had a strange experience. She saw a field of battle and the prostrate figure of a soldier, whose two legs and one arm were hidden by bloody bandages. Near him knelt a Carmelite nun. She turned to Sister X, who recognised Soeur Therese's sweet face, and said these words: 'He went to Confession and to Communion.'  Then the vision or dream — call it as you will — passed away.

That same evening Sister X related her strange experience to her Superioress, whose letter confirms the circumstance.  The next morning, a Sunday, the same Superioress, much agitated, put the dead officer's pencil note into the hands of Sister X.  It was written in Germany on August 26th, 1914, had been sent to Lisieux at the end of six months, and forwarded in a letter written by the Carmelite Prioress to Sister X's own Superioress.

 A Final Anecdote

A last anecdote was told me by Monsignor de Teil.  A party of French soldiers, separated from their comrades, seemed hopelessly encircled by the enemy, when one of them called out: 'I propose that if we reach the French lines safely, we should after the war erect a statue of Sister Therese of Lisieux. Will you make the promise?' The promise was duly made, and the little band of soldiers reached the French lines in a manner that seemed almost miraculous. They agreed that, after the war they would all subscribe to the statue and they drew lots to know in whose village it should be erected. Mon- signor de Teil has corresponded with the particular soldier near whose home the little Sister's statue will one day stand. He is a peasant from the north of France, the father of a family, and an excellent Catholic; he gives, as to his escape and that of his comrades, minute details that point to a special protection of Heaven.