On July 30, 1925, a detachment of French marines under the orders of Commander Benoist, a Protestant, landed in Porto León, in remote Papua New Guinea, Oceania.
Standing in formation in front of a grave decorated with a simple wooden cross and some red lilies, the soldiers presented arms and fired a volley in honour of a recently deceased missionary priest. Deeply moved, the commander pronounced these solemn words: “On behalf of France, the army, my officers and marines, I admire and salute you. Our ship Aldebarán, on the return voyage to our homeland, has been given the mission of paying homage to you at your tomb.”1
Then the cannons add their loud tribute, raising “ejaculatory prayers of gunpowder” to the heavens. But… who is this person capable of touching the hearts of tough marines and causing such admiration in an officer?
Studies interrupted by the war
Jean-Pierre Marie Léon Bourjade was born on May 25, 1889 in Montauban, France, into a large family. The innocence of his childhood, the military deeds of his ancestors and the faith of his parents awakened in this boy a contemplative temperament and, at the same time, active and joyful, a desire for holy exploits. He longed for martyrdom and, to this end, set out to be a missionary in untamed lands.
When he came of age, he joined the Congregation of the Missionaries of the Sacred Heart and began his studies for the priesthood. It was then that a book came into his hands that would wield special influence in his life: Story of a Soul. This reading was the beginning of an intense supernatural relationship with Sister Therese of the Child Jesus, who at the time had not yet been canonized.
In July 1914, however, the Great War broke out and, like many other religious and priests, Jean-Pierre left his books behind and joined the army, believing that this was God’s will as well as his duty.
Already in uniform, he reported to the 23rd Artillery Regiment in Toulouse. Shortly thereafter, he was transferred to the 75th Regiment, where he showed great tenacity and an excellent military spirit. There, he experienced the torments and horrors of the trenches, while considering everything that happened with a spirit of faith. He was even able to play his flute amidst the roar of explosions, to rest his mind with beautiful melodies.
Often inexplicably saved from extremely dangerous situations, he would reply to those who marveled at his daring: “With my relic of Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus, I am not afraid of bombs or bullets.” In fact, he had received a lock of hair from the future Saint from the Carmel of Lisieux and, in the chaos of battle, fighting above all against self-love and human respect, he clung to his precious treasure and never failed to turn to his protectress, as can be seen in the writings in his “black notebook”2:
“O Sister Therese, so energetic and courageous, come to my aid, intercede for me, help me.”
Between Heaven, earth… and fire
After distinguishing himself for his bravery among the soldiers who operated mortars, known as crapouillots, on April 9, 1917 he was called by his superiors to train at the aviation school and join the Air Force.
In July of that same year, in gratitude for his graduation and forthcoming entry into the “Crocodile Squadron”, he asked permission to fly to Lourdes, where he performed magnificent aerial acrobatics over the city in honour of Our Lady. Many pilgrims witnessed his stunts, amazed…
Before long, this modest and contemplative young man began to attract the attention of his superiors and companions. He mastered the art of aviation so well that he seemed to have been used to flying since he was a boy.
His daring was so great that, during landings, he would drop down in a dive for hundreds of metres, only to pull up into normal flight at the last moment and land safely on the runway. For a long time to come, this method of touchdown would be known in French aviation as “landing à la Bourjade.”
What many at first considered foolhardy, others were able to understand from a different perspective: “Without St. Therese,” wrote one of his companions, “you cannot understand Bourjade. Far from being a presumptuous man who throws himself into adventure, he places himself under the protection of the little Saint and, trusting in Providence, fears nothing, doubts nothing. Then, with that audacity, with that courage and that imperturbable steadfastness he forges ahead, leaps into action and advances from victory to victory. But he will always remain the modest, humble and unassuming hero. He does not see his victories as belonging to him… Like a child, he lets himself be led by the hand of Sister Therese.”3
Facing persecution from envious fellow aviators and even anti-Catholic superiors, Léon proudly maintained his fidelity to God and to his protectress, having an engraving of the Saint of Lisieux installed on the side of his metal bird and a pennant of the Sacred Heart of Jesus behind the seat.
In the few months that the war still lasted, this eagle was seen in the skies countless times soaring across its vast expanses hunting for prey, impelling, by his example, those under his orders: “It is said in the squadron that Léon turns all men into heroes,” a cousin wrote about him.
Léon Boujarde in 1918; directly below, the plane he used, with the engraving of St. Therese indicated
Hunting “dragons”
A lover of danger, Bourjade liked to enter enemy territory in search of well-defended “dragons” much larger than his aircraft. “Dragons” – drachen in German – were observation balloons often used in combat, which could be armed with up to twenty machine guns. Venturing to shoot one down was tantamount to exposing yourself to heavy fire. But that was no obstacle for the young aviator, who knew he was doing his country a great service and dealing a fatal blow to the enemy’s logistics. The prey he successfully brought down soon became numerous… Léon was later reckoned as the greatest French balloon hunter.
The characteristic and dramatic landings of the “ace priest” – his nickname – provoked crowds and everyone rushed to welcome him. However, without appropriating the recognition, he attributed it to St. Therese:
“First of all, to you, good patron saint of my plane, all honour and glory, for the victories that, with your help, I have had the good fortune to win recently in the air.”
So many other military exploits could be told here of this valiant knight of the skies, who not only experienced triumphs, but also the exhaustion of continual fighting, bodily wounds, the wiles of envy and persecution, and the pain of seeing valiant warriors fall by his side. But all of this would be too much for one article.
Abandoning military glory to soar in higher skies
Like everything else in life, the war came to an end at one point. Bourjade, who will also be remembered as “the soldier monk”, had twenty-seven confirmed victories and many more unratified ones. Some say there were more than forty.
He bore on his chest the War Cross with thirteen palms and a ruby star. In addition to this, he accumulated other medals and honourable mentions and was finally elevated to Knight of the Legion of Honour, becoming the youngest holder of France’s highest decoration.
It was hard for him to sacrifice the pleasure of soaring through the skies. In the meantime, the Lord was calling him to higher aspirations. He wrote: “O my Jesus, if I have said goodbye to the earthly heavens through which I have so often travelled and fought, in what other heaven, much purer and much vaster, are you urging me to take flight!…” Watermarks on the paper attest that this intimate writing was accompanied by tears. Bourjade then continues: “Oh, I will fly without fear; my Pilot [Jesus] is invulnerable, with Him the enemy is defeated beforehand.”
As soon as he could, our victorious soldier went to Lisieux, where he left all his decorations as an ex-voto in the hands of Mother Agnes of Jesus, St. Therese’s eldest sister. However, he did not think this symbolic act was enough. Relegating his glorious past to oblivion, he soon set his sights on the ideal that had been shining in his soul since childhood. Leaving everything behind – family, country, prestige – in search of martyrdom, he headed for the impenetrable jungles of a distant island that did not know of his triumphs, and buried himself in the sands of an inhospitable land…
St. Therese of the Child Jesus in July of 1896
“To suffer according to the will of Jesus”
Léon knew well that the most tenacious of battles is fought inside every man. He wrote in his notebook: “To be a saint, you have to fight, struggle and exterminate the enemy. The enemy is myself, who opposes the will of Jesus.”
And in order to conform his desires to God’s, he always counted on the help of his heavenly intercessor: “O my little Sister Therese […], I want my soul to be drawn to yours; this love that cradles my heart must not be sterile; I need to become well practiced, at your side, in your ‘little way’ of love and abandonment. […] Above all, to offer myself as a victim of love. […] Here is the starting point: it is necessary to suffer, and suffer not according to my will, but according to the will of Jesus.”
Ordained a priest on July 26, 1921, Léon Bourjade left for Papua New Guinea, where he arrived only on November 20 of the same year.
Calvary begins
This mission was for Léon a time of great adventure, hard work and the most diverse afflictions. Reading the groans of his heart registered in his intimate notebook, we are able to imagine: “I realize that on this earth we have only one thing to do: to offer Jesus the flowers of our small sacrifices unceasingly.”
A virgin and tropical nature enchanted him with its exquisite beauties, but it also caused terrible bodily suffering, with suffocating heat, clouds of mosquitoes that devoured him day and night, illnesses, incessant fevers and other discomforts – crosses which he had desired, and which he received in abundance.
When he experienced the ingratitude of the aborigines for the intense apostolic activities he and his companions carried out, he was tempted to abandon the active life and devote himself solely to contemplation, an apparently more perfect choice and one to which his reflective temperament had always invited him.
During a retreat, however, he comprehended, with the help of the Blessed Virgin Mary, that he was being deceived by the devil. Conforming himself to God’s will, he wrote with determination: “I wanted… to be your missionary, and You have given me all this. Grant me to be the missionary You want me to be…”
The dark night had fallen on his soul… “Black labour, on black, in the blackness,” is the expressive motto that would define him and lead him to total sacrifice, until the complete giving of self. “To work only for God, without the consolation of the harvest, that is what his apostolate will be. […] Physical suffering is nothing compared to moral anguish. He perceives his uselessness, the barrenness of his efforts: ‘I feel so totally incapable and impotent! My God, have mercy on me!’”4
The offering
In a letter to Fr. Roulland, a missionary in China, St. Therese warns him about the King of Heaven’s conduct towards His friends: “since He raised the standard of the Cross, it is in His shadow that all must fight and win the victory.”5 And she expresses her conviction that “all missionaries are martyrs by desire and will.”6
The promises made by grace to our missionary and his childhood desire for martyrdom were fully realized as he embraced the same path traced out by his beloved instructress, seeing in every small sacrifice a great opportunity to give glory to God, and consummating his life in the voluntary surrender of himself as an expiatory victim.
On March 28, 1910, Fr. Bourjade asked his intercessor to present his offering to the Sacred Heart of Jesus: “In order to live in a perfect act of love, I offer myself as a victim of holocaust to your merciful love, […] and may I thus become a martyr to your love, O my God.” He concluded his offering with these words: “To Jesus, with Jesus, for Jesus, in Jesus! Whoever says love, says sacrifice. O my Jesus, help me understand and love the cross.” These were the last words written in his notebook.
The holocaust is consummated
Perhaps the proof of his fidelity to these grandiose intentions was the joy that flowed from within him and spread to others. Let us look at the testimony of Fr. Norin, who knew him in his last days: “He is tranquil: a soul from Purgatory who still lives in this world, by grace!… Detached, veiled, distant, withdrawn; he was and was not, he possessed and did not possess… The Christian according to St. Paul!… […] The soul lived elsewhere, in the purifying places. And yet, despite that placid physiognomy, that pale face, how joyfully he lived with us! How amiable he was! We observed his laughter: he laughed with gusto, and in this, but only in this, he truly seemed like a child.”
This is how this faithful follower of spiritual childhood completed his journey of holiness. He achieved true peace, a peace illuminated by smiles. After just under three years on mission, exhausted by the countless labours and illnesses, he suffered from haematuria, which caused his death at the age of 35, on Yule Island, on October 22, 1924, the month of the feast of his dear patron saint.
Fr. Bourjade in 1921, the year in which, after being ordained, he went on mission to Papua New Guinea
About to depart this life, recovering his young poet’s soul, he uttered with difficulty in his Bishop’s arms these last words, which evoke the joy of someone who has shed every last drop of blood and is ready to enter true life: “The rose sheds its petals”… Words that recall those uttered a few years earlier by our venerable Carmelite in her final hour: “After my death, I will send down a shower of roses.”
May this hero of the French nation and of the Holy Church accept our enthusiastic homage on this centenary of his death, and may he obtain for us from Mary Most Holy the ardent and exclusive love of God of which he gave such a magnificent example. ◊
Notes
1 The biographical and historical information transcribed in this article is taken from the work: BENOIST DE SAINT ANGE, Henriette. Léon Bourjade. Officier aviateur – Missionnaire en Nouvelle-Guinée. Sainte-Croix-du-Mont: Saint-Remi, 2009.
2 A kind of diary in which Léon recorded his thoughts and conversations with St. Therese.
3 BENOIST DE SAINT ANGE, op. cit., p.139.
4 Idem, p.309.
5 ST. THERESE OF LISIEUX. Letter to Fr. Adolphe Roulland, 9/5/1897. In: Obras Completas. San José: Centro de Espiritualidad San Juan de la Cruz, 1996, v.II, p.332.
6 Idem, p.334.
