Pilots would fly. Gunners would shoot. Mechanics would fix. Docs would heal. All of the years of training, dreaming, sweating, studying, thinking, hoping, and praying were summarized with the same succinct, but informed assurance with which Jesus answered those who questioned him.
When you know what you are about, when you know where you are from, when you take hold of those virtues which are greater than yourself, when you focus your abilities upon the task at hand, and act, THEN regardless of your success you surpass the impotent polish of childishness and begin to live in the power that springs from maturity.
All of you have grown through this experience and will continue to grow and mature as this mission presses forward. Not because of polish, but because of perseverance.
Continue to keep it simple Marines and Sailors, by handling one task at a time and one day as it comes to you. Let us, together, weave yet another red stripe on Old Glory.
Prayer:
Eternal God, thank you for the simplicity of handling life one day at a time. Amen
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matthew 22:37–40)
January 28
JESUS LOVES THE LITTLE CHILDREN…
Lt. Daniel Nichols, United States Navy Chaplain
It was late June, 2003, my first opportunity to walk among the people of Iraq. The children especially swarmed around our small group as we made our way through the ancient pathways of a small village just south of Babylon. Dark haired, bright-eyed faces swarmed all around, waving, clapping, and sticking their hands out for a handshake, and it was all accompanied by little voices vying for attention.
“Meestar meestar!” was the frequent call that came to my ear. Perhaps it was my six-foot-five frame, or that I was wearing the garb of a chaplain a different uniform than those with whom I traveled, but it was more than likely the fact that I was not carrying a weapon of any kind. A few begged, for money, some begged for food, or for shoes to wear on their calloused feet as they jogged along the hot tile-paved alleyways. But more than that they wanted to be around the excitement and to be touched by these strangers in their midst.
My gaze shifted frequently from this boisterous throng to the adults, who paused in their shops or as they traveled, staring at us in uncomfortable silence. Yet, many of these offered a smile and a wave, likely those who had returned to gainful employment.
One thought still echoes through my mind as I reflect upon that experience. For many of these children, their first memory of life will be clapping and cheering for American soldiers as endless convoys drive past their agrarian homes. I wonder what their next memory will be. I hope it will be one of freedom, of joy, of hope.
As people of faith, ours is the burden, not only to hope for good, but to do it. Likewise, as heirs to a heavenly and eternal inheritance, as children of the living God, it is not enough for us to speak of prayer and how prayer changes lives. We are to be people of prayer, people who communicate with the Creator and Redeemer of all people.
Prayer:
Thank you for prayer and the privilege to pray for others around the world.
“Then little children were brought to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked those who brought them.” (Matthew 19:13)
January 29
ALL THE CHILDREN OF THE WORLD…
Lt. Daniel Nichols, United States Navy Chaplain
The time passed quickly that day, my first walk outside of the confines of a protective convoy in a village just south of Baghdad in early July, 2003. And our business finished, we were about to depart when a young boy appeared before me, standing quietly and looking up at me through large bright eyes. His red shirt was tattered and dirty, but his smile and his countenance were as untarnished as a cloudless sky. Another boy who had been harrying me for money and attention received a quick elbow to the ribs in the way that young boys do, and moved off to other interests.
Thus, this young child, a boy of perhaps ten years of age watched me for a moment before saying in strongly accented English, “Thank you for freedom.” “America, I thank you.” “Mr. Bush” he kissed his curled finger in a sign meaning prayer and blessing and lifted it upward. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied and held out my hand to shake his. He had a strong grip for a small child. For a moment we simply studied one another as smiles blossomed on our faces. He pointed to the nametag on my uniform, which had my English name written in Arabic script.
“Schlonek,” he said, curiously, not sure what to make of my name.
Apparently the seamstress had sewn the letters from left to right as we read them in English. He read right to left.
“Nichols,” I corrected him and patted my chest. He then pointed again to the insignia below my name and read off the English letters one by one.
“LT, CHC, USNR United States it means. You are of United States,” he said, grinning at his newfound comprehension.
He smiled broad and wide. “Yes,” I smiled in return, reminded of my four children and wife back at home.
Again he repeated, “Thank you for freedom.”
And then I am whisked away, my mind fogging with the images, the smells, the poverty, and yet some small tangible sense that hope has been seeded into the next generation. These children represent the future of Iraq. They will grow up remembering the great changes brought to their nation. I shall pray for that hope, and I shall pray for the Iraqi people.
Prayer:
Thank you for the precious gift of children and the hope you give through them and for them.
“But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” (Luke 18:16)
January 30
GREETINGS MARINES
Lt. Daniel Nichols, United States Navy Chaplain
Have you stopped recently to consider what it is that you’ve accomplished? I’m not certain if many of you have been able to witness new-born liberty, but just a few miles north of us, hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of people are experiencing what we take for granted every day for the very first time. Let me relate an experience shared with me only a few weeks ago. I’ll do my best to give the telling it’s due.
A corporal with Division had been on a routine soda run, and like other times, a small crowd of children gathered around to watch. As was his normal routine, the young marine offered candy to the delight of those gathering nearby. Upon completing his purchases, the marine turned to find an older Iraqi man standing before him holding a broken cross. Puzzled, the corporal asked if he needed some help, all the time mindful and somewhat intimidated by the growing numbers around them.
“I am a Christian,” said the man, holding up the broken cross, trying to connect with the young man. The marine smiled, nodded, and moved to the side to be on his way, but the man insisted in his broken English. “I am a Christian, you are American; I thank you.”
The marine turned, puzzled by the exchange, offered another smile. “I could probably fix that cross for you if you like,” he replied.
The older man smiled, clearly not understanding. “Never could I carry such a thing before, not in public, would kill me.” He made a distinct motion with his hand, crossing it over his throat. “You, American Marine, saved me, wife, and children.”
Again, the marine nodded. “You’re welcome,” he managed after a long pause. Then he turned, climbed back in his truck, and looked back one last time at the man.
“I pray for you… for Marines!” shouted the man over the din of the motor.
Then he lifted the cross and declared, “Freedom!”
Marines, no matter how tedious your tasks may seem, you have brought freedom to a people long oppressed, and their gratitude
to you will last for generations. Perhaps you will never know exactly how it is that you have changed the lives of these people, but you have and continue to do so every day, with every flight hour, every shift, every turned bolt, every floor swept, every report printed. Few else can claim the same.
Prayer:
Eternal God, give us courage to labor as your servant people, healing broken people and rebuilding devastated communities, providing safety for the weak and hope to those who have none. Position us among the poor with words and deeds of freedom.
“A generous man will himself be blessed, for he shares his food with the poor.” (Proverbs 22:9)
January 31
WHEN HE WAKES UP
Maj. Janis Dashner, Chaplain, United States Air Force
After a convoy on a reconnaissance mission was ambushed, the injured soldiers came to the emergency medical unit in Baghdad where Dashner was serving as an Air Force chaplain. Chaplain Janis Dashner wrote in her journal about the night of December 4, 2003: “Dr. K did all he could to save Bruce’s leg but it was too badly damaged. Only a few hours have passed and he is already on the plane heading for Germany.”
Bruce’s platoon Sergeant, Tommy, was also injured. He had several shrapnel wounds in his legs plus three gunshot wounds one in his upper arm and two in his chest. Unlike Bruce, he was stable enough to wait until the next day for an airlift to the United States military hospital in Germany. Dashner quickly realized that Tommy was more concerned about Bruce than himself.
“Tommy is extremely worried about Bruce’s ability to cope with the loss of his leg. Bruce was orphaned at age seven, grew up in foster homes, doesn’t have a girl friend, and makes friends with great difficulty. He considers the Army unit he is assigned to as his family. Tommy told me that Bruce begged him while they were on the side of the road not to let ‘them’ which is actually ‘us’ take his leg off. He said he would rather die than to have that happen,” she wrote.
Dashner waited all night with Tommy. When Dr. K came and talked to him about his own injuries, Tommy made an interesting request.
“Now Tommy is in a race to get to Germany before Bruce wakes up too much. He wants to be with him when he has to learn this news,” Dashner wrote.
The medical team called the hospital in Germany. The staff there made sure Tommy would occupy the space next to Bruce.
The Sergeant’s concern for Bruce revealed true servant leadership. Despite suffering from three gunshot wounds, Tommy wanted to continue to be a leader and friend to Bruce.
Four years later, Dashner watched the State of the Union Address on TV. When President George W. Bush introduced a young soldier sitting with Mrs. Bush in the gallery, Dashner began to cry.
“The young, tall, healthy Tommy stood up to acknowledge the applause. My tears are ones of joy,” Dashner journaled that night.
Army Sergeant Tommy Rieman of Independence, Kentucky, was awarded the Silver Star for his bravery in Iraq in December 2003.
Prayer:
Father, thank you for using friendship in such a powerful way. Open my eyes to the needs of my friends. May I be a friend who sticks closer to a brother.
“A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” (Proverbs 18:24)
February 1
HOPE OF SPRING
Maj. Janis Dashner, Chaplain, United States Air Force
“The news tells us of the cold weather that is coming over the United States. We on the other hand are having some spring time experiences. After all the rain from last week, we have grass! It is growing in and around cracks and in between the C wire. It is soft bright green grass. I know it is soft because I stopped to pet it, it’s a simple pleasure,” Chaplain Janis Dashner wrote in her journal on December 12, 2003.
The moment reminded her of Song of Solomon 2:11–12 “For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth.” And in this case, grass.
“I’m sure our winter isn’t over just yet. But it is nice to have a preview of the spring to come. I’m sure the winter for the Iraqi people isn’t over either… but spring will come,” she continued.
Dashner served at a Mobile Aeromedical Staging Facility in Baghdad. The television show, M*A*S*H, depicted doctors and nurses rushing to helicopters to retrieve wounded patients. MASFs are a modern version but with a key difference. Military medical staff stabilize wounded patients at a MASF and then load them onto a plane that takes them to a hospital. The MASF is mobile and usually used at the beginning of a war. When the situation is stabilized, a Contingency Aeromedical Staging Facility takes over. Dashner witnessed this transformation.
“The MASF has grown into a CASF which is a larger facility with the capability to hold patients for longer periods of time. This is the place where patients are ‘collected’ from various treatment areas, field hospitals, and surgical hospitals; they stay with us until airlift is ready to fly them, usually to Germany,” she wrote in her journal, noting that loading patients onto planes is often heavy work.
And while spring had not fully come to the people of Iraq, the transformation of the MASF to a CASF was a hopeful indicator of a more stable Iraq, a little green grass growing under the barbed wire. The day after Dashner wrote about the hopeful signs of spring, United States soldiers captured Sadaam Hussein. Hope was on the horizon.
Prayer:
Father, thank you for the hopeful signs you give of new life to come, of the change of seasons that electrify the earth. I pray for continued hope for the people of Iraq.
“See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land.” (Song of Solomon 2:11–12)
February 2
MAY I SEE A MIRROR?
Maj. Janis Dashner, Chaplain, United States Air Force
Four patients wounded from the same building explosion arrived at the CASF where Chaplain Janis Dashner served. One of them was named Chuck. He had lost one eye and had extensive shrapnel facial wounds. The morphine left him confused.
“While in the convoy from the hospital in the Green Zone to us he got disoriented. He shared that ride with a soldier from Pakistan. Hearing the foreign language confused Chuck; I don’t think he realized he was in United States hands,” she wrote on December 12, 2003.
The medical staff asked Dashner to watch him.
“When I took his hand to introduce myself, he held on and didn’t let go. His ‘good’ eye was swollen shut and he couldn’t see. My ministry last night was to talk with Chuck, to calm him down, to wash his arms and legs off so we could see what wounds needed dressings and what were just scratches from crawling through the debris,” she wrote, noting he soon fell asleep.
Chuck woke up two hours later.
“I noticed him as he reached up to touch his face. He was feeling the stitches that had been put in place to piece together his face. Then he asked the question I don’t think any of us expected. Chuck asked if he could have a mirror. As his nurse found one for him, I told him what he was going to see. When he looked at himself, through one blurred eye, he asked me. ‘Do you think my children will kiss me when they see me?’”
As a chaplain, Dashner knew her job was not to have magic answers but provide hope. And although she gave an apt reply, the moment pulled on her heart.
“Wow. Try to stay upbeat and reassuring with that question,” she wrote of the difficulty.
While they loaded Chuck and the others onto the plane, bombs exploded nearby.
“All I could think was how scary it would be to be blind, tied to a litter, and then, on top of all that, hear explosions going off not too far away. Tonight this group will be in Germany, safe from further harm,” she wrote.
As she journaled about Chuck, a mortuary staffer called, asking her to conduct a memorial service.
“In the midst of this job, I am doing all stuff other normal pastors around the world are doing (preaching
on Sunday, preparing Bible studies). I am reminded of my seminary professor’s words: ‘that Sunday mornings come with amazing regularity.’”
Prayer:
Remove callousness from my heart. Give me the tenderness of a chaplain and the courage to speak reassuring words to those in need.
“A man finds joy in giving an apt reply and how good is a timely word!” (Proverbs 15:23)
February 3
BUDDIES
Maj. Janis Dashner, Chaplain, United States Air Force
“‘Is he going to be alright?’ That was the first question Joe asked when I walked up to his bed side,” Chaplain Janis Dashner wrote in her journal on March 3, 2004.
He had been watching me as I stood at the bedside of a patient directly across from him. Both of them had just come by helicopter to the CASF, and both had been injured in the same mortar attack, though they didn’t know each other. Now, a common experience bonded Joe to the guy across the aisle from him,
Joe had serious injuries to both of his legs, which were held together with pins. As he wiggled his toes, he couldn’t believe that he still had his legs. The guy in the other bed was worse. Shrapnel had torn apart his body armor and helmet. The equipment had saved his life, but a piece of shrapnel got in, up under the front of the Kevlar helmet.”
The man had undergone head surgery but was very confused. Joe was touched by the other man’s condition.
“Joe told me that they had been put in the same vehicle after the attack, but didn’t know what to do for him. Joe kept talking to him ‘Hang on buddy, we’ve got you. You’re going to be alright.’ Now, as Joe was talking to me, that life affirming declaration became a question. ‘Is he going to be alright?’” Dashner recorded.
Stories of Faith and Courage from the War in Iraq and Afghanistan Page 5