Stories of Faith and Courage from the War in Iraq and Afghanistan

by Jane Hampton Cook

  The second hand grenade hit right above the right rear tire. When the explosion happened I could see debris flying up into the air. That visually stuck with me as the most vivid damage from that engagement. I could not see the vehicle when it was hit. The building shielded it from our view at the time of the attack. I got on the radio and ordered the convoy to get out into the intersection and help these guys out. Then we pulled out into the intersection. The convoy commander had turned around and come back through the ambush and was sitting at the intersection. He and I did a quick frequency swap so that we could talk from inside the Humvees. He confirmed to us that he did not have contact with his entire convoy. They had lost their fourth truck.

  The TCC’s body armor and chest plate basically saved the life of the guy behind him. The explosion had knocked everyone unconscious. The truck went down to the end of the block and veered off down a side street and ran into the side of a building. The radios were dead. No one knew where they were. It was a scary ten minutes for their convoy commander.

  I called back to the battalion headquarters at Spiecher to get the Apaches spun up. We needed some air support. The convoy commander went to help find his truck. We held the south part of the ambush site at the intersection. What was coming next? How coordinated was this attack? The minutes eased by, and tension didn’t break.

  Prayer:

  In the worst of situations, Lord, please bind my heart to yours. Fill me, guide me, lead me, protect me, and fulfill your purposes in and through me.

  “When your people go to war against their enemies, wherever you send them, and when they pray to the LORD… then hear from heaven their prayer and their plea, and uphold their cause.” (1 Kings 8:44–45)

  December 13

  FACING DEATH

  Capt. David Graves, Officer with a Provisional Reconstruction Team

  The ambush scene was chaotic. We held the south end of the site, while the other convoy attempted to find its guys.

  After about ten to fifteen minutes they found the missing truck. While this was going on, we lost internal contact between the two convoys. Because we were sitting in an exposed intersection, with no one talking to us, we finally decided to move to the north part of town. When you lose communications, it gets very confusing very fast. I got my gunner to use hand and arm signals to get the other truck in the intersection to follow me. We pulled through the ambush site, found the rest of the trucks from the convoys, and loaded the wounded guys on to the truck.

  We stopped and triaged the wounded to find out how bad their injuries were. It turned out that the other guys were suffering only minor wounds. About that time the Apaches arrived. We told battalion we didn’t need MEDEVAC. We loaded up and drove for forty-five minutes back to Speicher with Apaches giving over watch. We left the deceased soldier in the Humvee right where he was. The battalion commander from the infantry battalion came down and met us at the one bridge over the Tigris and led us into the base. Guys from the Combat Support Hospital (CSH) came out to remove the casualty from the truck and start processing the body.

  Afterwards the guys told me that we were under fire the whole time. I remember being shot at, but it didn’t seem like a large volume of fire, and it didn’t appear to be very accurate fire. My memory only vaguely recalls that part of the engagement.

  The tough part is the thinking about it after the fact. I’m filled with thoughts like It should have been me… . Why did God spare me? The guy who was killed was twenty-eight years old. He had a wife and two kids. It was his last mission. He was going home after that one mission. It was a difficult thing to swallow.

  “Staff Sgt. Michael L. Deason, 28, of Farmington, MO, died on Aug 31, in Ad Dwar, Iraq, of injuries suffered when a grenade detonated on his vehicle during combat operations. Deason was assigned to the 3rd Battalion, 320th Field Artillery Regiment, 3rd Brigade, 101st Airborne Division, Fort Campbell, KY.”

  Prayer:

  Death fills us with grief. God of all comfort, please give an extra measure of your comfort to those who have lost a loved one in combat in Iraq and Afghanistan and the broader war on terrorism.

  “But Ruth replied, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. May the LORD deal with me, be it ever so severely, if anything but death separates you and me.” (Ruth 1:16–17)

  December 14

  THE ULTIMATE SACRIFICE

  Capt. David Graves, Officer with a Provisional Reconstruction Team

  The convoy was back on base, and the wounded were tended to. It was all over by about 1 p.m. We had DSN lines in the office that would allow us to call home free of charge. I called my wife that afternoon, but I didn’t tell her what happened. I did tell her if she saw anything on the news to know that I am okay. We would watch a lot of the news while we were over there and saw information about how soldiers were killed in Baghdad or some other location. When the media reported where the casualty was based or where the engagement occurred, it can be really scary for the families. They watch every story, and the media didn’t miss an opportunity to talk about a U.S. death.

  Deason’s death never even made the news. That really bothered me. It also surprised me. He didn’t even make the news. I can’t remember how many soldiers died in the month of August 2006. We were nearing a hundred soldiers killed a month. But the fact that this young staff sergeant, this hero that was on his last mission, the guy that was in ambush meant for me, sitting in my seat, the one that should have been me…. This should not have been ignored by the media.

  We should never forget the service and sacrifice. Staff Sgt. Deason and his family made the ultimate sacrifice. We should always remember that.

  Prayer:

  Dear God, help me never to forget the names of people I know who made the ultimate sacrifice while serving in combat. Thank you that your name is great among the nations, even those who haven’t turned to you yet.

  “‘My name will be great among the nations, from the rising to the setting of the sun. In every place incense and pure offerings will be brought to my name, because my name will be great among the nations,’ says the Lord Almighty.” (Malachi 1:11)

  December 15

  LIGHT AND HONOR

  Gina Elliott Kim, daughter of Larry and Jean Elliott, missionaries to Iraq (2004)

  When my parents came through Houston on their way to Iraq in December 2003, they visited my church and shared about the confirmation they received from Psalm 139:9–10 that Iraq was their “far side of the sea.” Verses 11 and 12 continue to say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me, even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.”

  Light and honor were two symbols that stood out to me during that Christmas. They also visited my church’s Christmas Eve candlelight service. The whole church is dark, except for one little candle held by the pastor. From anywhere in the worship center, one can see this little candle’s solitary light. Then that single candle lights another candle. Those two candles light two more and so on. Soon the whole church is lit from the light of one tiny candle. I remember looking at Mom. With tears streaming down her face, she turned to me and said, “That is Iraq! It is a dark, dark nation but we are taking in the light of Christ and we are going to light up that nation with the light of Jesus!”

  And that is what they set out to do, lighting a few candles so those candles could light others, spreading God’s word.

  Also that Christmas, my family enjoyed our holiday tradition of sharing what the Lord had taught us in the past year and what we looked forward to in the coming year. Although my two brothers and I completely supported my parents’ move to Iraq, we were more serious as we shared. My father felt our unspoken concern, and when it was his turn, he said he felt the center of God’s will was the safest place to be and, for them, that was Iraq.

  “Plus the worst case
scenario,” he said, “is that we get killed and we go to heaven with Stephen! What an honor we would consider that to be!”

  Of course, we did not like hearing that, and no one really thought that they would be martyred like Stephen in the Bible. But what a comfort to know my father considered it an honor to be martyred. He considered it an honor to bring light to darkness no matter the cost.

  Prayer:

  Father, thank you for the honor of bringing light to darkness. Shine brilliantly through me today, casting your glow and spreading your hope.

  “But the word of God continued to increase and spread.” (Acts 12:24)

  December 16

  SENDING MY BABY TO WAR

  Patti Smith, Mother of two Marines deployed to Iraq in 2005 and 2007, organizer of Operation Santa in the Midwest.

  I wanted to fall apart right there at the airport, but something came over me. I gently grabbed my Marine son, Josey, by the chin and said, “Now you listen here… you come back to me alive and in one piece you understand?” For a brief moment he was my little boy again. His towering six foot six frame could not disguise his eyes filling with tears, lower lip quivering; he could only nod.

  “Okay then,” I said. “I will talk to you soon.”

  Surely this was the hardest thing I had ever done send my baby off to war. My two sons are United States Marines and last year both were deployed at the same time. My youngest, Josey, was the first to go to Iraq.

  While home on his pre-deployment leave, I had tried to soak up and savor every moment with him. But now here we were at the Peoria, Illinois, airport. Before leaving America, he would return briefly to his base in California. My heart was breaking; I was so frightened of the unknown journey that laid ahead. I was silently pleaded with God to give me strength to be calm during the parting moments with my son.

  We hugged one last time, then my husband Greg and I went up to the observation deck and watched his plane take off. I gazed into the sky long after it was out of sight then collapsed on a nearby bench and wept bitterly.

  “Please don’t let this be the last time I saw my son alive,” I begged God.

  For some mothers, it was.

  For me, life began to be lived not one day at a time but rather one breath at a time. As Josey began the first leg of his journey, I began the first steps of my own through the valley of the shadow of death as I watched him fly off to war.

  Prayer:

  Father, Shepherd, help me trust in your presence today, even though fear threatens to overwhelm me.

  “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” (Psalm 23:4)

  Patti Smith with sons Josey (left) and Jesse (right) (Color Classics, Peoria, IL)

  December 17

  BLESSED BE THE NAME OF THE LORD

  Patti Smith, Mother of two Marines deployed to Iraq in 2005 and 2007, organizer of Operation Santa in the Midwest.

  “Mom I’m getting ready to leave the States,” Josey called to tell me.

  “I’m in Germany,” was the next announcement.

  And finally, “Mom, I’m in Iraq.”

  With each phone call, I felt as though an elevator was slowly lowering me into the valley of the shadow of death. I would linger in that valley for many months to come.

  Viewing the nightly news with its images of war and carnage, I would just shake my head. My son was in there somewhere, and I was absolutely powerless to help him. My total dependence came to be my faith in God; but oh how I wavered at times.

  A couple of months later, the whole ordeal occurred again when my other son Jesse was deployed. This wasn’t fear of the unknown; it was sheer terror of the unknown!

  Although I have always been healthy, my physical body began to break down during this time. I was seeing a doctor; there was no apparent reason for my symptoms other than internalized stress. It was suggested I get on medication to cope but I refused. Sleeping through the night had become a thing of the past. Naps became my way of life. Awakened every night, I would pray and pray that the angels would protect my sons.

  Car lights shining down our street at night would make me hysterical. I would run to the window to see if it was a government vehicle with two Marines coming to deliver dreaded news. If so, which son would it be?

  One day I received an email from a friend and fellow Marine mom in another state. Her son was serving with Josey. It read, “Two Marines in dress blues just left our home. Our son Joe was killed yesterday. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” I screamed aloud when I read it.

  Prayer:

  Lord, strengthen my faith in you so that when tragedy strikes I may still praise your name.

  “The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised.” (Job 1:21b)

  December 18

  REUNION

  Patti Smith, Mother of two Marines deployed to Iraq in 2005 and 2007, organizer of Operation Santa in the Midwest.

  Thoughts of my sons being in danger haunted me day and night. As president of our local military support group, I still had many responsibilities to carry on meetings to conduct, support to give others, and service projects to complete.

  During this time, I delivered two condolence books to mothers of fallen soldiers. After praying and crying with them, I would drive away from their home begging God, “Please don’t let me be next.” I felt the shadow of death as a constant dark weight over my spirit and body.

  Finally, the day came for me to attend Josey’s homecoming in Twenty-nine Palms, California, along with Kelly, his girlfriend at the time (now his wife). While we waited for his returning bus, the wounded from Josey’s company walked among us. Some had limbs missing, were in wheelchairs, one was on crutches. The faces of handsome young men were scarred from burns. As they walked through the crowd, spontaneous applause broke out.

  Nearby on a table was a beautiful patriotic quilt. We all signed it for a family who’s Marine would not be returning home, yet that family was there to support the rest of us. The look on their faces was haunting. How unfair it all seemed. While this family heroically supported the fellow Marines of their fallen son, I thought my heart would burst in anticipation of my own son’s arrival.

  The moment we were reunited paralleled only with the moment of his birth. I wanted to collapse from relief. I couldn’t quit crying. We embraced and I sobbed, “Josey, I was so afraid I would never see you alive again.”

  “I’m home, Mom,” he said. It seemed such a miracle to me.

  And that was my turning point. My health began to improve. A few months later I would experience the victory of my other son’s homecoming.

  Prayer:

  Lord, I praise you for being a trustworthy God, no matter what dangers and trials surround me and those I love.

  “I will say of the LORD, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust.’ …You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.” (Psalm 91:2, 5–6)

  December 19

  SEMPER FIDELIS

  Patti Smith, Mother of two Marines deployed to Iraq in 2005 and 2007, organizer of Operation Santa in the Midwest.

  Today, Josey is once again in Iraq. This past week the Peoria area has lost a Marine; I will attend those services, and deliver yet another condolence book. I will grieve with the mother of that fallen Marine and again ask God to spare my own son’s life, like the persistent widow who never tires of making her case before the one who holds the matter in his control (Luke 18:1–8).

  I’m not sleeping through the night again, but it’s okay. The Lord awakens me to pray for my son’s safety, and I’m happy to do it. In the dark and quiet hours when most others are deep in slumber, it’s my privilege to trade the comfort of my bed for the honor of interceding on behalf of my son as he serves his country on the other side of the
world.

  Somehow it’s better this time. Despair is not allowed to consume me as it once did. Although living through the deployments of my sons has been excruciatingly painful, I sense a deep strengthening has taken place. I still do not know what tomorrow holds… but I do know him who holds tomorrow I place my trust in Jesus.

  The first stanza of the old hymn classic “Be Still My Soul” says:

  Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side.

  Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.

  Leave to thy God to order and provide;

  In every change, He faithful will remain.

  Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heavenly Friend

  Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

  (http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/b/e/bestill.htm)

  Let me ask you this. If you are not trusting in God, where will you go? To whom will you turn?

  The motto of the United States Marine Corps is Semper Fidelis, which is Latin for always faithful.Let me encourage you to hold on to God and don’t let go. For God is Semper Fidelis!

  Prayer:

  Lord, help me today to strive to be as faithful to you as you are to me always.

  “God, who has called you into fellowship with his Son Jesus Christ our Lord, is faithful.” (1 Corinthians 1:9)