Sunday morning, 4:45 a.m., November 18,2012, I was up, praying in tongues, walking through the house, in an enveloping of the Holy Spirit. Unexpectedly, I said powerfully in English, “No man of violence will ever put his foot on my *land!” Instantly, in a vision I was transported to my front yard. Standing before me, as close as the sidewalk, was a band of oriental soldiers, probably 40-50, each dressed in dark-grey fatigue-like uniforms. All carried rifles with bayonets. In a strong, authoritative voice I preached to them in tongues. I was totally unafraid and my message was defiant, commanding. None of them moved but seemed transfixed as I spoke. Then I locked eyes with each one separately, pointed my finger at him, in tongues ordering him to throw down his gun. Each one obeyed and fell face-forward to the ground. After the last one was prostrated, I waited a moment. Then I spoke again (still in tongues), commanding them to get up and throw their guns in the lake behind my house. Immediately, each one sprang up, ran past me, threw his weapon in the water, then stampeded back to the street. As they ran past me I knew that each of them was under the anointing of the Holy Spirit and was rushing away to preach the gospel. In a moment’s time all of them were gone. “Go!” I yelled after them, “Preach!” I was then back to my senses, standing alone in my house.