Khaled ebn Al Waleed (Sword Of Allah)

Asalaam alikum,

It is very heart warmming to see that we still do have fans of Muslim heros today, Hazrat Khalid Bin Waleed [ra] is one of the greatest general of All times, even today army generals study his manuvers.

Here is the link to a book which deals fairly with this Sword of Allah.

 

http://www.swordofallah.com/html/bookhome.htm

O my brother what took you so long to offer this prayer, though short enough to have said much earlier? Nevertheless, Amen for your prayer.

Edited by AhmadJoyia

taken from book " Men around prophet "

We will always repeat the words of 'Umar the Commander of the Faithful about Khaled: "Women who give birth to men like Khaalid are extremely rare," as well as our earnest wish along with "Umar that his sword would lose its rashness.

On the day of his death, 'Umar cried excessively. Later, people learned that his grief was not only caused by his personal loss, but also by the loss of his last chance to return the command to Khaled now that people were no longer infatuated with him. The reasons behind his dismissal were now gone. Only this time, unfortunately, the man was gone too.

Indeed, the great hero rushed to take his place in Paradise. For it was about time he caught his breath, considering the fact that no one on earth had been more restless than he. It was really about time his exhausted body would sleep for a while, considering that he was described by his friends and enemies alike as "A sleepless man who would not let anyone sleep."

If it were for him to decide, he would have chosen to live on until he had demolished all the decaying ruins of the ancient world and continued his jihaad in the way of Allah and Islam.

The sweet fragrance of this man's spirit will linger forever more whenever horses neigh and the edge of swords glitter and the standards of monotheism flutter over Muslim armies. He used to say, "Nothing is dearer to me than a frosty night in the company of an infantry of Muhaajiruun when we are to attack the disbelievers in the morning. Not even the night in which I was wedded to a new bride or received the glad tidings of the birth of a new child."

Therefore, the tragedy of his life, in his opinion, was dying in bed after he had spent his entire life on horseback, raising his glittering sword. It was difficult for him to accept that he was to die in bed after all the battles he had fought next to the Prophet (PBUH), and after he had annihilated the Roman and Persian empires and after he had galloped to Iraq where he achieved one victory after another until he had liberated it. Then he had turned to Syria where he had achieved one victory after another until he had set it free from the bonds of disbelief.

mspite of his position as a commander, he was so modest that if you had seen him you would not have distinguished him from among his soldiers, yet at the same time, you would have known at once that he must be a commander from the way he shouldered responsibilities and set himself as a grod example.

Again, the tragedy of this hero's life was dying in bed. He said as his tears flowed, "All the battles I fought in left my body scarred with wounds and stabs everywhere, yet here I am dying in bed as if I had never witnessed war before. I hope that the cowards will not have a day's rest even after I am dead."

These words were becoming of such a man. When the moment of departure was close, he dictated his will. Can you guess to whom he left all his valuables? It was to 'Umar Ibn Al Khattaab himself. Can you guess what were his valuables? They were his horse and his weapon. And what? He had nothing else to bequeath but his horse and weapon.

Thus, his only obsession while he was alive was achieving victory over the enemies of truth. He was not in the least obsessed with life, with all its splendors and luxury. There was one thing that he obsessively cherished and treasured. It was his helmet. He lost it in the Battle of Al-Yarmuuk, and he exhausted himself and others in searching for it. When he was criticized for that, he said, "I keep it for luck, for it has some hairs of the Prophet's forehead. It makes me feel optimistic that victory is within reach."

Finally, the body of the hero left his home carried on the shoulders of his companions. The deceased's mother took one last look at the hero, her eyes full of determination tinged with sadness as she commended him to Allah's protection and said, "There are far, far better than a thousand men who flung themselves into the battlefield. Do you ask me about his valor? He was much more courageous than a huge lion that protects its cubs in the time of danger. Do you ask me about his generosity? He was far more generous than an overwhelming torrential rain that slides down from the mountains."

"Umar's heart throbbed and his eyes flowed with tears when he heard her recite these lines of poetry: "You spoke the truth. By Allah, he was everything you said he was."

The hero was buried. His companions stood at his grave in reverence. They felt that the whole universe was so peaceful, humble, and silent that it seemed as if the whole world went into mourning.

I imagine that this awesome stillness was broken only by the neighing of a horse that tugged at its halter and went to its master's grave guided by his scent. As it reached the silent congregation and the moist grave, it shook its head and neighed sharply as it used to do when the hero was on its back devastating the thrones of Persia and Rome, curing the delusions of paganism and oppression, and eliminating the powers of backwardness and disbelief to pave the way for Islam. As it fixed its eyes on the grave, it kept on raising and lowering its head as if it were bidding its last farewell to its master and hero. Then it stood still with its head raised, yet its eyes flowed with tears. Khaalid bequeathed it along with his weapons to 'Umar in the way of Allah. Yet who is valiant and great enough to deserve to mount it after Khaled?

Alas, you hero of all victory, the dawn of all nights. You soared with your army above the horrors of war when you said to your soldiers, "The darkest hour is that before dawn." This became a saying afterwards.
May Allah bless your morning, Abu Sulaimaan. May Allah bestow glory, praise, and eternity on you, Khaalid.

Let us now repeat after 'Umar the Commander of the Faithful the sweet elegy with which he paid his last farewell to Khaled: "May Allah have mercy on you, Abu Sulaimaan. What you have now is far better than what you had in life, for you are now with Allah. You were honored in life and content in death."