Stories of Faith and Courage from the War in Iraq and Afghanistan
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“When times are good, be happy; but when times are bad, consider: God has made the one as well as the other.” (Ecclesiastes 7:14)
May 25
I HAVE TRAINING TO DO
Wendy Gade, wife of Capt. Daniel Gade
“Let me get that for you,” my father-in-law said as he reached to adjust the hospital bed for Daniel. We all wanted him to be as comfortable as possible while he was Walter Reed.
I’ll never forget Daniel’s response.
“No,” he said, looking at each of us hovering over him. “Actually, you all need to leave. I have training to do.” He was just determined to figure out how to do these things on his own, including operating his mechanical bed.
Another time, a nurse asked him, “What would you prefer, your head to be up or down, or your feet…?”
And he said, “What is the optimal position for healing?” In other words, don’t ask me what I want, tell me what is going to get me better and out of here. He was very determined that he was not going to be enabled. He was going to be Daniel.
We laugh at these stories in our family because it was such a relief to see his trademark “can-do” attitude shining through again. The insurgents could take his leg, but not his faith, his personality, his dry wit. He was going to continue.
That’s not to say there weren’t hard days. There weren’t lots of them in terms of being totally discouraged. There were a lot of painful days. I can only think of one day where the hope was truly needing to be replenished. For him, many of the days just felt like the movie, Groundhog Day the same thing over and over again.
But, as Daniel has said: “I had a personal mission. I wanted to get on with my life, and I didn’t feel like I had time to sit around moping. I don’t ever wake up in the middle of the night and think, ‘Wow I’m really glad that happened to me,’ but I’m not feeling sorry for myself either. It’s just what God’s plan is for our family.”
Prayer:
Lord, whatever task is ahead of me, give me the strength and determination to do it well.
“Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:13b, 14)
May 26
A NEW NORMAL
Capt. Daniel Gade, U.S. Army, Iraq (2004–2005)
The insurgent attack January 10, 2005, and the ensuing recovery period began a new chapter in the life of our family. All in all, I was an inpatient for four months, then spent another six months as an outpatient, learning to walk again with a prosthetic.
If you saw me today, you wouldn’t see that I had lost a leg. You wouldn’t see me running any marathons, but you’d see me cooking dinner while Wendy runs errands, or studying for my doctorate program at the University of Georgia as I prepare to return to West Point as a professor. You’d see Wendy and me juggling twins, born in June 2008 (on our ninth anniversary), or caring for Anna Grace, now six years old. This is our new normal day.
We have seen God work directly in our lives in ways that many people haven’t had the opportunity to. This whole story is for a purpose, and the lesson is that life isn’t about us, as individuals. God has a plan which will take place one way or another, and our lives are about trying to match our actions to his will. He will do whatever it takes to get us where he wants us to be. Self-pity has no part in the plan, nor does selfishness or arrogance; all those things are the result of not understanding where we fit in the plan.
Wendy had a sense from very early on in this story that God was going to use this experience to grow our faith. She thought certainly, that it would grow her faith, mine, and our family’s but God didn’t stop there. For example, Patton had set up a web site to post updates on my condition and allow others to leave comments. By visiting that site, other people were being brought back into a desire to pray and to reconnect with God. God used the situation to witness to people across the world who we didn’t even know. Seeing God work in such a direct and dramatic way has taught us that, essentially, our lives are to bring glory to God, not to ourselves.
Prayer:
Lord, use my life to bring you glory.
“Everyone who is called by my name… I created for my glory.” (Isaiah 43:7)
May 27
THIS IS MY CALLING
Deborah Johns, Blue Star Mom, Director of Military Relations for Move Forward America
I wanted my seventeen-year-old son, William, to enroll in college not the military. But he had other plans.
When I began getting phone calls from military recruiters, I was furious. They needed me to come to the recruiting office and sign a consent form, they said, because he wasn’t eighteen yet.
“I don’t want to discuss it,” I told one recruiter on the phone, “and if you call me again I’ll call my Congressman and report you!”
Months passed, and soon it was Christmas vacation. When William suggested we go for a drive together one day, I happily went.
Two and a half miles later, we were at the front door of the U.S. Marine Corps recruiting office. I was speechless. There was such silence between us you could cut it with a knife.
When we entered the office, the staff sergeant stood up and introduced himself to me. “Is there anything I can get you?” he asked me.
“A stiff drink would be nice.” I was only half-joking.
The staff sergeant explained they needed my signature so William could be in a delayed entry program and put on the schedule so when he finished high school he would go to boot camp. I looked at my son, still so young.
“This is what I want to do; this is my calling,” William said.
“You know if I sign you into the Marines, you are probably going to go to war.”
“I know Mom, but I want to serve my country. This is what I want to do.”
I signed him in. “But you’re going into intelligence, not infantry,” I said.
He signed up for infantry.
William graduated from boot camp as expert rifleman and was at the top of class. I was so proud of him. When you go to their graduation ceremony, it’s indescribable the admiration you have for these young men. This time I cried tears of joy, knowing my son was achieving something very special in order to serve our country.
Prayer:
Lord, help me train and prepare myself for the situations that lie ahead of me.
“Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground.” (Ephesians 6:13a)
May 28
MOTHER’S DAY GIFT
Deborah Johns, Blue Star Mom, Director of Military Relations for Move Forward America
No sooner did my son graduate from boot camp than we were notified he would be deployed to Iraq. I knew this moment was coming, but I still wasn’t ready for it.
In early March, all the military moms and wives in our area got phone calls from our men.
“Pray for us,” said William. “I don’t know when we’ll talk again.”
About a week later, the war officially began. I’ll never forget it the war started on William’s nineteenth birthday. Then it was four months 112 days without any communication. I searched for every broadcast there might be, looking for a glimpse of my son or information about his unit. For long stretches of time I was just glued to the TV because I didn’t want to miss something. It was so unbelievably difficult.
When the first casualties list came out on April 7, 2003, it was devastating. You grieve for the families who have lost their sons or daughters and plead with God you won’t be next. It takes your breath away. You are literally gripped to see any pictures on TV, to get any news reports. You’re starved for some assurance. You don’t want to leave home because you don’t want to come back and see a black sedan waiting for you. Every time there’s a knock on the door, your stomach drops to the floor.
Then Mother’s Day came. And while I obviously would have preferred to have my son with me on
that day, I did receive a very powerful gift. I was watching the right news broadcast at the right time.
“I just talked to a Marine who just had his nineteenth birthday the day the war started,” the reporter said. My heart skipped a beat. “Just last year around this time he was going to his senior prom.” While he didn’t say his name and I never saw him on that television screen, it was enough. I knew that was William, and now I knew he was alive. My son was still okay.
Prayer:
Lord, help me not base my confidence on my own understanding when I should be trusting you instead.
“Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” (Proverbs 3:5)
May 29
FINDING SUPPORT
Deborah Johns, Blue Star Mom, Director of Military Relations for Move Forward America
There was no local support group in place, so some other women and I started one for Marine moms. They came from all over to meet together. Everyone brought pictures of their sons and we made buttons with those pictures that we wore every day. We read letters from our sons, said the pledge, hugged, and cried together.
We had lunch at a restaurant situated on a river in Old Sacramento. At the end of lunch, we each took a yellow rose to the river bank as a way of remembering our sons in a special way.
“Corporal William Johns, Fallujah, Iraq: God bless you. I love you. Come home safe,” I said, and threw the rose into the river. Each mother did the same thing, saying her son’s name, where he was deployed, and said a little message. We did this for ourselves, but people at the restaurant stood up and applauded.
I also started a national group called Marine Moms that puts together a Condolence Book for every family who loses a loved one in the war. If someone from Idaho is killed, a Marine Mom from the area will collect cards from across the country, put them in the Condolence Book, and present it to the family at the funeral.
There’s a special bond military families have we understand each other in a way no one else can. We pray for one another every day and help the moms with kids about to go on their first deployments. We extend grace to each other. We know we can cry without having to explain why. We all know.
Besides the support of other military families, my faith in God has gotten me through so much. If God chose to redeploy William to heaven, that’s God’s choice, and not something I have control over. So God alone just gave me a lot of peace and comfort, knowing that whatever happened was God’s decision. I know if he dies, we will see each other again in heaven. I just can’t go through a day without thanking God for all he has done for me.
Prayer:
Father, help me use the trials in my life to counsel and comfort others.
“The God of all comfort… comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.” (2 Corinthians 1:3b–4)
May 30
LOOKING FOR WILLIAM
Deborah Johns, Blue Star Mom, Director of Military Relations for Move Forward America
When the time came for William to come home, we decorated our car and made signs to celebrate: Welcome home! We love you! When the day finally arrived, my two younger sons and I drove to Camp Pendleton in San Diego to pick him up.
We watched with mounting excitement as a busload of Marines came in. Parade vehicles, flags, and yellow ribbons surrounded us. Marines reunited with their families as people cheered and cried with band music blaring in the background. Scanning the crowd over and over, we couldn’t find William.
“Excuse me,” I approached a sergeant. “Where’s Will Johns? Isn’t he here?”
The sergeant found a captain to ask. “This is Corporal Johns’ mom. Can you tell me where he is?” he said. The captain looked blankly at me. Then it looked like something clicked in his brain.
“Oh my God, you didn’t get the notification? Your son chose to stay behind for another three months so a married Marine could come home.”
“Well, that’s very nice of him to do,” I said as calmly as I could.” “Do you think you could arrange for him to call home so I could tell him I love him?”
“Yes ma’am, I’ll make that happen for you by tomorrow.”
So we packed up our welcome home signs, fresh baked cookies, got in the car, and drove home bawling our heads off. We were devastated.
Then in July, we went through the same routine, had the car painted, made signs, baked cookies. When we got to Camp Pendleton, I saw the same sergeant, captain, and chaplain who I had spoken with last time.
“Well gentlemen,” I said, “I hope for the sake of all three of you, that William Johns is on that bus today.” All three of the men marched up the hill to where the Marines were checking their weapons and each one asked for Johns. Marching back down shoulder to shoulder, they said, “We’re happy to report that your son is in the armory.”
This time, I cried tears of relief.
Prayer:
Lord, turn my suffering into a stronger character; fill me with hope for tomorrow.
“We know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” (Romans 53b–4)
May 31
THESE COLORS DON’T RUN
Deborah Johns, Blue Star Mom, Director of Military Relations for Move Forward America
“Mom, don’t they know we’re doing a good thing over here?” William asked me over the phone during his second deployment to Iraq. Negative rhetoric about the war was spreading fast, and Cindy Sheehan had become an internationally known figure for her anti-war camp at President Bush’s ranch in Crawford, Texas. “Please don’t let us come home to what the Viet Nam vets faced,” William continued. “Please tell them the good stuff.”
“The press says it’s all terrible, William. So tell me the good stuff.”
And he did. That’s when I got on radio stations and I began to tell their stories of progress, reconstruction, and hope, because the soldiers themselves were not allowed to. I made it clear in more than five hundred interviews that what Cindy Sheehan spoke negatively about military families she was dead wrong. She didn’t speak for all of us. Besides radio stations in the United States, I added my voice to the airwaves of the BBC, as well as stations in France, Germany, and Australia.
I had May 22 designated as Yellow Ribbon Day in California, and was the spokesperson for the bus tour called “You Don’t Speak for Me Cindy,” that crossed the nation and ended in a pro-troop rally in Crawford, Texas. Ten thousand people showed up outside the president’s ranch to demonstrate support for the troops.
A year later, our second national bus tour was called “These Colors Don’t Run” and showed support for General Petreaus and the troops. Another tour to honor heroes during the holidays collected 150,000 cards to send to troops. In all, we’ve rallied support with five national bus tours so far.
William and I have both come a long way from that bleak winter day at the recruiting office. He has completed three deployments in Iraq, and I am Director of Military Relations for Move America Forward, a nonprofit organization supporting America’s troops and their efforts to defeat terrorism. With the Lord’s help, I found a way to not just survive my son’s deployments, but to take an active role supporting him and other soldiers risking their lives for freedom.
Prayer:
Lord, take my fear and turn it into courage so I may serve you boldly.
“Act with courage, and may the Lord be with those who do well.” (2 Chronicles 19:11b)
June 1
BEGINNING AT THE END
Donna A. Tallman, daughter of a U.S. Air Force officer, screenwriter, regular contributor to The Christian Post
Where is John F. Kennedy’s grave? What do OEF and OIF mean on a headstone? Where’s the bathroom? Who’s the oldest dead person buried here?
A woman, who has answered the same questions for more than a lifetime, sits at a kiosk in the middle of the Arlington National Cemetery Visitor’s Center patientl
y answering every question as if it’s the first time she has heard it. People scramble about, filling water bottles, snagging tourist trinkets from the gift shop, and taking pictures… lots of pictures.
I take none. I’m not here to capture or preserve history; I’m here to experience it. Shortly after returning from our tour of duty in Spain in 1968, my family and I went to Arlington. We made the traditional loop up to the Kennedy graves where I saw carved in stone the reality of Senator Kennedy’s assassination. That was almost forty years ago, and I have returned now as an adult, a grown up Air Force brat, a mother of three young men, a patriot.
A squad of uniformed military cadets enters through the southern door. The sea of people parts, and the corridor opens before the squad. The cadets walk smartly, heads up high, heels clicking on the highly polished floor, not one wrinkle among them. The squad never breaks stride in their cadence; nor bead of sweat on their brows, despite summer’s oppressive heat. A holy hush follows them. They have come to Arlington to begin at the end.
In search of my own pilgrimage through America’s history, I leave the majority of tourists behind and turn toward today’s history found in Section 60. This section has been set aside for the soldiers of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars.
As I walk the empty access road, I am immediately engulfed by silence. Except for a lone gardener, I see no one. On this visit, I want to do more than travel through Arlington. I was not raised to be an American tourist who enjoys the benefits of liberty, but lives disconnected from the soldiers who have secured it. I want a commission.