We did not hesitate to call our movement an army. But it was a special army, with no supplies but its sincerity, no uniform but its determination, no arsenal except its faith, no currency but its conscience. It was an army that would move but not maul. It was an army that would sing but not slay. It was an army that would flank but not falter. It was an army to storm bastions of hatred, to lay seige to the fortresses of segregation, to surround symbols of discrimination. It was an army whose allegience was to God and whose strategy and intelligence were the eloquently simple dicatates of conscience.