One of the men who died was married and had kids. The other’s father-in-law is here. He’s in the National Guard and deployed to Iraq, and since getting word Friday about the tragedy, he made his way down to base. I met him today. He broke down as we talked. He simply had to be at the ceremony, so we will have a very special guest. Wow.
We just want to come home. We’re trying to be patient while the local government gets its act together. But our patience is thin, if it even exists at all. In times like these, it seems senseless. I know we’re making a difference, just not a lasting one. You can lead a horse to water, but . . . God help!
I hope I didn’t bring you down, but this is our reality. As I’ve said before, take extra special care of these warriors when they get home. They need it. Just listen. Be patient. Don’t talk about yourself. And let them get the weight off their chest that’s been pressing on them for months. War is hell.
Because of His great mercy,
Darren
THE FIFTH MONTH
1
September 2, 2007
Homesickness . . . it has set in deeply around here. The honeymoon of the initial deployment is definitely over, and we’re staring at the calendar moaning about how long we still have left. I can’t wait to see Heather and the kids in the airport and just hold them again!
0True, we are accomplishing some military successes, but that’s only a temporary fix—like getting rid of a fire ant hill in south Georgia, only to look around and see the other billions of ants! Until they want a better existence, and put people in place to make it happen, there won’t be any lasting benefit. Reconciliations, apologies, repentance, humility, desire for safety for families, etc. All of these things need to happen. We have given them time, now it needs to happen.
I ask you to pray that our leaders not dance to a political tune, but call an ace an ace and not linger in indefiniteness. For Iraq’s sake, and our own morale, we need some concrete answers and goals. I remember when I had to start doing things on my own as a kid—wash clothes, pay for gas, etc. It made me step up and do it, or it wouldn’t get done. It’s time for them to step up and take over so we can move out of the way. Sorry for the rant . . .
I have loaded some new pics. These are some random shots of life around the main base, not the patrol bases. Here at the main base, life is very different. The pace is actually more hectic here, with meetings and coordinations, etc. Out at the patrol base, there are two speeds: either on a mission or hanging out/sleeping. I will stay at the patrol base to hang out with the guys, have a few counseling sessions and a service or two, play chess, and, of course, restock the care package goodies table. I’ll mingle with the guards on the roof as well as the guys hanging out in their tanks. It’s really a lot of fun, when things are going well. When crisis hits, I run to it. The “hanging out” with the guys prior to a crisis prepares them to receive me when it hits. And that can happen literally any moment.
Finally, I do have hope despite the previous ramblings. In the middle of all of this, God is still very much at work. I have talked with and counseled numerous guys who are desperately in need of something bigger and better than this. For reasons we don’t fully understand, God has brought us here to the desert and is bringing soldiers to Himself. It is a privilege to watch them come to the end of themselves, and finally reach out to the Lord! He is there, waiting—just as the prodigal finally gave up his waywardness and returned to the waiting Father (Luke 15). So many troops are doing the same. In light of that, it’s all worth it! God bless.
Darren
2
Once again, as the morning was still waking up, Darren sat in his quarters at his desk, facing the camera and recording a message.
“I still can’t believe how close the mortar attack came. Even a couple of weeks after it happened, I can’t help thinking about it, remembering what was going through my mind. All I could think of was, would I ever see you again? And I have months left before I do.”
For a moment Darren imagined Heather standing in place of the camera, looking over at him with her beautiful and reassuring grin.
“I walked onto that plane last May confident. Certain our lives were in God’s hands. But today, all I felt was fear. Just desperate to get back to you. To the kids. Afraid of either of us losing the other.”
He blinked, noticing the red light on the camera. Heather was gone and he was alone.
Once again Darren had the now-familiar thought. This time he spoke it out loud before shutting off the recorder.
“I really hope you never see this.”
3
The church gymnasium was unusually active for Friday noontime. Several lines of long tables filled the space, with parents and kids standing alongside to assemble Christmas stockings for the soldiers. Even though Christmas was four months away, it wasn’t too early to be working on these, nor to be enjoying festive tunes while doing so.
Heather and Tonya were running the operation, filling the assembly lines with the necessary items. The plan as Darren had shared with them was to be able to hand each soldier a stocking full of goodies on Christmas Eve.
The women asked for help, and help had certainly arrived. More than fifty volunteers had shown up today to help pack. They made the contents of each stocking the same to avoid one soldier getting something better or worse than his buddy. The main gift in each was a thirty-minute calling card; a variety of hard and soft candy and a couple of candy canes sweetened the deal.
The women had set the end of September as a deadline for commitments to the stockings, with November 1 as the mailing date so Darren would receive them by the beginning of December. He planned on going to different locations with the stockings in order to have a little party with Christmas music and the sharing of the Christmas story.
“Looks like somebody just brought another set of stockings,” Tonya said as she carried a large box over toward Heather.
“How many are there?”
Tonya set them down on the floor and made a quick assessment. “It looks like there might be close to a hundred!”
“We’re going to need them,” Heather said as she scanned the nearest assembly line. “We already have over five hundred committed, but we need double that amount.”
Tonya opened a bag of assorted lollipops and laughed. “There’s something kinda funny about sending a bunch of soldiers suckers.”
“They can’t melt on the way over, right?” Heather said. “It’ll be like Halloween. Except, of course, they’ll be hearing the message of Christmas.”
“If it helps them even just a little to find some joy and hope over there, it’ll absolutely be worth it.”
Heather watched her friend carry the bag of candy to an assembly line, knowing that Tonya had been through this before. The soldiers weren’t the only ones who would need some joy and hope around Christmastime. Day by day, Heather was learning how to live without her husband by her side. In his place came the specter of death, the always-present reality that at any minute, she could hear news that he was gone.
Candy couldn’t cover the fears and the grief soldiers carried inside, but it could be a sweet little reminder of loved ones back home who were helping them carry the cruel things that war could bring.
4
“Hey, Chaplain. Got a story you can share on your blog.”
Darren was surprised not only to see Michael peering into his tent, but to hear that he knew about the online journal he had been keeping to share with family and friends.
“I didn’t know you were reading it,” Darren said.
“Nah, Tonya told me about it. Listen, we were out on patrol today. Local father ran up to our vehicle carrying this little girl. She looked gone, like what happened a couple of months ago. She couldn’t have been more than two. Our translator said she’d fallen into a canal and was underwater for something like five minutes! The medics went to work, and they revived her! They’ve checked in with the family since, and she’s doing well.”
&n
bsp; “Praise God,” Darren said as he gave an affirming nod.
“Yeah, I’m sure something like this won’t make the news. It’s way too hopeful. Some folks in Washington don’t want to hear good news.”
Darren nodded, knowing how much was happening in the capital right now that would determine the future of this war.
“I know the army doesn’t pay me for my opinion, but I hope and pray some resolution comes from everything,” Darren said.
“Not knowing is the worst. I just want to get back home.”
Darren knew there was no simple answer. Yes, they had been making progress, but there was so much more they could be doing. Should they stay and finish, or should they all simply head back home? Could Iraq stand on its own, and if not, what exactly was the role the United States should have?
“We just have to stay focused,” Darren told his friend. “The bad guys exploit any opportunity when we’re unfocused. We can’t afford any more casualties.”
“Yeah, well . . . Ramadan starts September 13.”
Ramadan was Muslim holy month, when the devout believed all their actions had more of a significant value to Allah . . . including attacking US soldiers.
“Every little piece of good news counts,” Darren said. “Thanks for telling me this.”
Before Michael could slip back outside, Darren added one more thing. “And thanks for reading my blog!” he joked.
“Next time tell them how valuable I am to your two-on-two game,” Michael said, and disappeared.
Later that night, right before heading to sleep, Darren began to write another blog entry, telling readers about the young girl who had been saved. Before he could post it, he got an email from Brian, a friend back in Athens, Georgia. With September 11 approaching, Brian was sharing some thoughts about that day and about the world they lived in currently.
Darren . . . I tend to believe we are doing the right thing, despite the words and actions of those who try so hard to have us think otherwise. So much is being made of our losses (and every single life lost is terrible), but the very same evil and hatred that brought about 9/11, and would love nothing more than to bring about much larger acts of terror, is what we as a people are up against. Our struggle in Iraq is not as much about Iraq as it is about standing against an ideology and an extremist belief system that wants nothing less than total world domination. It doesn’t believe in coexistence with other religions—it demands conversion, subjugation, or death.
On the surface much of this has become simply political for most Americans, but deep down there is, in fact, a major spiritual element. We hope and pray for a quick resolution over there, but I’m afraid that we are in for a long battle—either there or somewhere else—until those who declared war on us are defeated, or we are. I know that’s not very comforting, but I fear it’s true.
Darren decided to share this along with the story about the young Iraqi girl whose life had been saved. It was good to have reminders of the struggle and battle—and also reminders that hope could always be found in the middle of them.
5
September 14, 2007
Hi all from Heather!
I wanted to give you an update from this side of the war, to share what happens when the wives and families are notified of casualties from the front. This evening we, the commander’s wife and FRG leaders, will host a grief and support gathering for the families of our unit. Many of the women coming include those who’ve just found out about their loss. It’s always incredibly painful. Wives will ask questions about the condition of their husband’s body and if they are going to be able to see him before burial. Others have children who are trying to process the loss. Once after a nine-year-old girl found out about her dad, she ran and hid in his closet. When they found her, she was wearing her dad’s army boots and hat, clutching her dad’s clothes. It’s painful to watch others go through this, but I remain thankful to be there for them.
I was overwhelmed seeing this for the first time, but watching the other wives who have been there before has been amazing. Even though they also are terribly sad, I see them bravely rising to the occasion to comfort those who will one day be able to comfort others. Darren has often described the soldiers as “tender warriors.” I must say that these women are tender warriors themselves. Tender to comfort the hurting and care for their families; warriors to stand in the face of fear, sorrow, loss, loneliness, and exhaustion. Please pray for the wives of the soldiers. It doesn’t make sense, but there is nowhere I would rather be right now. In this place there is nowhere to go to get comfort and peace other than Christ. Pray that we all run to Him.
Heather
6
A mother never clocks in and out, and neither does an army chaplain.
She can watch out and be wary, yet her son can still come through the front door with a bleeding gash in his knee after hitting a pothole and falling off his bike.
He can be strong and solid, yet see soldiers coming back from a routine mission that suddenly erupted when an IED went off and killed one of their group.
A mother always needs to be ready to console and comfort, and so does a chaplain. Yet as much as a mother can mend the wounds of a scraped-up knee, a chaplain can only strive to do the same to the damages of a scarred soul.
Exhaustion for a mother comes from dealing with tantrums and impatience and questions and distractions, while for a chaplain it comes from dealing with the sadness and grief facing soldiers who have lost a comrade.
Neither job is more important than the other. Both are necessary roles that oversee valuable lives.
A mother will never stop caring. She can’t. And as for a chaplain, he can’t stop either.
7
September 27, 2007
. . . Finally, I’ll conclude with what has become my prayer every time we roll out the gate. I pray for us, our vehicles, our eyes to see things that don’t look right, God’s protection and wisdom on where to drive or not to drive. Most of this prayer comes straight from the Scriptures, both Old Testament and New.
“Lord Jesus, You are above all spiritual rule and authority. Everything is subject to You. I pray for Your protection today. You said no weapon formed against us should prosper. Make it so. Disarm any roadside bombs meant for us. You said You would command Your angels concerning us. I ask You to do that now, Lord God. And You said not to fear man who can only kill the body, but fear Him who has the power of heaven and hell. Give me the courage to do that. In Jesus’ name. Amen!”
So far, God has not only protected our convoys, but has given me real courage when we roll out. I’m not gonna lie, I was very afraid initially, but He has given me faith and courage. For your “battles” today, I pray He does the same. God bless.
Darren
THE SIXTH MONTH
1
October 1, 2007
Good morning from South Baghdad! Hope you all are doing well. We’re fine here today, and three days ago the temperature finally dipped below 100 degrees! Cause for celebration. It’s so much more bearable now. Evenings are dropping into the upper sixties. The morale in our battalion is on an upswing. After a very tough summer, we’re beginning to see gains in security and safety in our area. Less and less enemy activity, compared with early and midsummer. We’ve killed or captured lots of bad guys, combined with many local citizens choosing to help us secure their neighborhoods. It is working! And we’ve just set up yet another patrol base. It is called PB Hawkes. One of our companies has just taken ownership of it, and they are building it to their liking. It doesn’t have a preexisting structure on it; it’s just a field full of our stuff surrounded by protective walls. That is the same company that has taken heavy casualties. They are excited about this, a place to call their own. They needed something to look forward to, and this is it. I saw many smiles when I went there this past week, something I haven’t seen in them for a long time. I’ve included some pics from the new PB.
The Christmas stocking project has reached its goal! We h
ave received commitments for 1000 stockings as of a few days ago. I’m excited about this, getting to have Christmas with these guys over here. We have a party planned at each PB: some Christmas songs (I’ll play guitar and they’ll sing), handing out the stockings, our commander dressed as Santa, and coffee with dessert from the dining facility on the main base. I know this will bring some good times to them during this hard-to-be-away-from-home time. And they will get to call home during this time thanks to you and the calling cards! Thanks to all of you who have committed to the stockings project.
Now that the Christmas project is finalized, those of you who still want to send care packages are welcome to do that as well. Many guys are now receiving packages from their friends and family, but the stuff I bring to them from your care packages always seems to be the “right” stuff. For example, one care package had a random sewing kit in it. I put it out on the table at the PB, and a soldier walked up and said, “Yes! I needed one of these.” Who would have thunk . . . One item in particular that seems to be in short supply over here is good deodorant. Everyone’s personal stock that they brought over in our initial deployment is running dry, mine included. The deo that they sell on the main base is no good. Most of the guys like the Old Spice deodorant-only stuff (Red Zone, I think it’s called, in a red container). The antiperspirant/deo combo irritates a lot of armpits. Anyway, for what it’s worth. Jerky is always popular as well (beef and turkey). And, now that it’s cooling down, chocolatey things won’t melt. I’m getting hungry . . .
Finally, prayer is more real to me than ever. I’m sure it’s the bullets and bombs, and missing my family immensely, but the sense of urgency in prayer that I feel is growing. When our guys roll out of the gate, my heart grows heavy for them. I ask the Lord to watch over them with almost a boldness, like Moses in Exodus 33 when he asked God to go with them, or not send them at all. And God agreed! Wow! And for my family, that our kids would be a blessing to Heather, and she to them. And that is happening also. So much could go wrong with three munchkins, but so far so good. Heather is the true champ of our family. For that I am simply grateful. The Lord is so good, if we just give Him room in our lives. “Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen” (Eph. 3:20–21).
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