Centurion Faith

When Jesus entered Capernaum, a centurion approached him and appealed to him, saying, "Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, suffering dreadfully." He said to him, "I will come and cure him." The centurion said in reply, "Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed. For I too am a man subject to authority, with soldiers subject to me. And I say to one, 'Go,' and he goes; and to another, 'Come here,' and he comes; and to my slave, 'Do this,' and he does it." When Jesus heard this, he was amazed and said to those following him, "Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith.
(Matthew 8:5-10)

The Price of Freedom

It started a couple of centuries ago in a new and untamed land. It actually started earlier than that, but I have to say it started somewhere. 55 men gathered in Philadelphia and shared idealistic but traitorous ideas and thoughts. In time all these men would stake their lives, their fortunes, and their families on the notion that there must be a better way to govern a nation, that freedom is important enough to fight for, that a life of general fear and political/economic bondage was not what God had in mind. (And yes, God was very much on the mind of our founding fathers, despite the protests of a small but loud minority of society today.) Since that fateful 4th of July, our nation has been calling forth her young men and women to step up and defend the rights and freedoms of her citizens, and to stake their lives and their futures for the principles espoused by that declaration of independence. Every soldier knows the risks each day as he/she pulls on the uniform, every soldier understands the sacrifices that he/she may be asked to make to bring success to the mission at hand. For most of us, the sacrifices are a few years of our life, the loss of a few freedoms, the straining of relationships back home, and the hardships of living and fighting in a rather unpleasant part of the world. Of course, some offer a much higher sacrifice than others. Some are tortured by physical and mental wounds received, some lose their jobs or their families while off fighting the war, and some "lay down so great a sacrifice on the altar of freedom." Great or small, real or imagined, every sacrifice of every soldier is reflected and honored every 4th of July.

A few of our soldiers have laid that greatest sacrifice on the altar of freedom recently. As I write this, news of seven casualties in the Helmand province (to the south of us) has reached the home-front. But the fighting is not only in the south, the 4th Brigade lost 4 of itʼs paratroopers since late June in combat, two in hard fighting on Independence Day. Three of these guys I knew personally, and had had a good relationship with. After conducting the Fallen Comrade ceremony Sgt. Neal and I headed off to the COP where the attack took place to offer counseling and hope to the guys. Itʼs one of the toughest parts of a chaplainʼs job, to give hope and life in the face of death. Yet this is also one of the most important jobs of a chaplain, and one of the reasons I do what I do. I donʼt like going in that room, I donʼt like praying over a flagdraped coffin, but I do so because I firmly believe in what my faith teaches about this moment. That it is not an end but a transition, that when our earthly house is destroyed we gain an everlasting home, not made by human hands, eternal in heaven. As a Catholic priest, I point to the presence of hope and grace in the darkness of grief. Hope and grace not present because of me, but because of the One who prepares that everlasting home for us. This is especially true for those who endure hardship and sacrifice for the sake of others, who risk their life in defense of life, and who give everything to help a troubled country back on its feet and to protect a nation founded on the principles of freedom. "No greater love is there than this, to lay down your life for a friend."

Independence Day, Afghan style

Yes Kelly, your husband is smoking a cigar with two women.
But he was with the chaplain at the time, so itʼs all good. Right?

The 4th of July has always been one of my favorite celebrations. I love the fireworks, the BBQs, heading out on the lake and spending time with the family. Of course these are only the rituals and customs that mark this day. Everything Iʼve said about the price of freedom also applies here... Holidays are always difficult times when youʼre deployed, but we do what we can to make up for it. The 4th itself was not a good day, we started the night before with incoming. We heard a few whistles, a couple of explosions, and we all looked up thinking "O boy! Fireworks! Wait a minute, weʼre not supposed to have fireworks over here... O (bleep), time to run..." So we got to spend some time in the bunkers, but no big deal, no one hurt, no damage done. On the morning of the 4th, as I mentioned above there was a major attack at one of our bases and we lost two soldiers, seven others were wounded. The KIAs came to us at Sharana, meaning I spent my day at the hospital praying over them, talking to their buddies and squad members, and coordinating the ramp ceremony/angel flight home. The 5th was much better... and this was the celebration Iʼll remember...

We had normal Sunday mass, and then caught lunch at the main DFAC. Outside they still had the grills set up for the 4th BBQ, and so fired them up again. They had also erected a huge cargo parachute to provide shade, and anchored it with picnic tables. Not a bad idea until you realize that the lift capacity of these parachutes is pretty big. Three of these things can hold up a Humvee, which is not known as a light and quick vehicle. So the wind starts blowing right around lunch-time and catches this thing, and suddenly picnic tables are flying through the air! Thankfully the only casualties were the brats and burgers that were abandoned as we ran for safety. In the early afternoon I headed up the hill to my Battalion offices and participated in a CAB (Combat Action Badge) ceremony. Sgt Neal and I, along with a number of others, were awarded our CABs for "engaging or being engaged by the enemy" during a mortar attack at Orgun-E. Itʼs the "Hey be careful! You could have hurt somebody with that thing!" award.

In formation waiting for the CAB ceremony.
Yes, everyoneʼs looking forward but me!
Chaplainʼs off doing his own thing!

Actually the CAB is kindof a big deal. It means you were close enough to an attack that you were in grave danger. Sgt. Neal is on his 3rd deployment and has had many mortar attacks. The funny thing is that we were visiting his old unit at the time! After sitting out countless mortars and rockets in Iraq 2 years ago, he gets his CAB while visiting guys that had told him "Nope, not close enough..." time and time again in Iraq. How funny is that! Anyway, the rest of the day was spent lounging around, playing volleyball or cards, smoking cigars, or pigging out at the snack table. It was a typical family reunion for me, except I wasnʼt related to anyone and everyone was wearing green. It was a great day none-the-less, and a day of some much needed rest. Because the following morning we were off to the races again, heading on a convoy to a base that should be renamed Idunno. "When are you getting there?" "I dunno." "When are you coming back?" "I dunno." "How are you getting back?" "I dunno." Zerok is one of those impossible places to get in and out of, Iʼm convinced thereʼs a black hole hidden somewhere on the base. But thatʼs another story for another article.

Zerok: Engineers are Awesome!

I know Iʼve talked alot about Zerok in this newsletter, and the most likely reason is that a significant part of our time since the last newsletter has been spent trying to get to Zerok, or get away from Zerok. As I said before, this small little FOB is like a black hole, nothing goes there often or on a predictable schedule. So if you actually manage to get there you better be ready to stay for a long while. We managed to make it to Zerok on an engineer convoy to refortify the base after their 4th of July attack. The convoy traveled about 20 miles, and it took just over 12 hours to get there. Yes, we could have walked there faster! But the route needed to be cleared of IEDs (we didnʼt find any) and we had a little action about half way there, so it was slow going. The snails pace is not really a bad thing, itʼs an example of us being very careful and safe with soldierʼs lives. The MRAP (Mine Resistant Ambush Protected) vehicles have a great exterior design, they save countless lives. (Google it for more info) The interior, however, must have been designed by a sadistic machiavellian engineer having a really bad day. If youʼre over 5 feet 3 inches tall, youʼre screwed. Itʼs that simple! They jam so much gear and equipment into these things that only short people have any hope of maintaining circulation in their legs. However the plus side is that if the convoy is attacked youʼre so excited to get out of the vehicle that you donʼt care about the danger. Even I was saying, "Let me at em!" when we got hit, anything to get out of that truck! (Iʼm joking, of course, but only a little bit...)

When we arrived we unloaded our gear and set up shop. Zerok has always been a small overpopulated base, and now it was filled with extra guys helping to rebuild and refortify. We set up cots in the gym, the MWR, and the storage room. Of course we could have slept in the trucks, but you couldnʼt have paid me enough to get back into one of those. We spent the next six days talking with the guys stationed at Zerok, and working with the engineers rebuilding the base. I got a chance to put my carpentry and electrical skills to work, and even got to use a shovel a few times! Be still my heart!

We had a great time with the engineers. They are national guard guys from Alabama (the carpenters) and from Arizona (the earth movers). They worked hard, all day and even during the night, sometimes in full body armor, all to make life better and safer for these guys they never met before. As Sgt. Neal has said often: "Engineers are awesome!"

PICS PAGE!

Sunset at Zerok, great views and great troops...

Blackhawks on the HLZ, waiting for passengers.

Sgt. McKenna, bidding us farewell on one of our many trips.

The mortar-men at Zerok calibrating their weapons.

Using those calibrated weapons, we found the bad guys and knocked out one of their mortars! Hoo-ah!

Some of the carpenters from Alabama, great guys and hard workers all...

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!

Once again, the final page of this newsletter is dedicated to all those that have sent stuff forward to us to be distributed to the troops. When we arrived home from our week at Zerok we discovered "Mount Boxmore" in our office, a stack of care packages so high that we couldnʼt reach the top! Iʼm constantly humbled by the generosity of others, and inspired to greater service and generosity in my own ministry. It is, after all, the way of God, and the heart of stewardship. Iʼve received abundant gifts from God the Father, and so I pass on a portion in thanksgiving and continue the work of grace and blessing. So thank you, thank you, thank you for all your support and the any blessings and prayers you send our way. Itʼs not so much the great stuff we receive, but the fact that someone back home took the time to gather it, package it, and pay to send it off. Thanks, and please keep us in prayer, for we need those more than anything else!

Centurion Faith!

The Price of Freedom

Independence Day, Afghan style

Zerok: Engineers are Awesome!

PICS PAGE!

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!