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yelled at the scattered rubble and dust, "`Uzzaa, I don't believe in you! Glory is not to be yours! I can see
that Allah has humilitated you!"
We will always repeat the words of `Umar the Commander of the Faithful about Khaalid: "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 khaalid 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.
In spite 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 good
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 lbn 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."