Heather and the kids . . . they are the true heroes of this story, as are all military spouses and kids. Pray for them! They will need your love and support on a regular basis. I will miss them immensely, but I long for the day when I will get to see them once again and not take for granted their hugs and kisses.
12
Holding the remaining plates from the barbecue, Darren walked into the kitchen, where the radio was turned on a little louder than usual. A slow ballad played as Heather washed dishes, swaying and humming to a Rascal Flatts song. Darren stopped and watched her for a moment, a wave of wonder washing over him.
She really is the very definition of lovely.
Life was often too busy to simply pause and appreciate its beauty. But for a handful of seconds, Darren looked at the woman he’d married, knowing how much he wanted and needed her. Remembering the gift God had blessed him with.
She turned to call out, “Hey, babe! Can you—” and then noticed Darren standing just across from her.
“Oh, you’re here.” Suddenly she grew self-conscious. “What?”
“Nothing. Just watching you.”
“Oh yeah? I look real cute now.” She held up her soapy hands and then pushed falling strands of hair out of her eyes.
“Come here,” he said to her, slipping an arm behind her and embracing her. “Cute isn’t the word I’d use.”
For a moment they swayed to the music. Heather couldn’t help laughing as they moved, but as she looked up at him, a realization seemed to fall over her. The same reality that was hitting Darren. They said ten thousand words without uttering a single one, looking at each other with weighted smiles.
“Fifteen months without this face,” Darren said.
He leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss, and then he felt her bury her face in his chest. They stopped moving and simply held one another. The world was on pause. For a few more moments. Heather hugged him as if her very life depended on it.
“Hey,” she said as she moved to look back up at him. “God’s in this, right?”
“I know He is.”
“Then you’ll be fine. And so will we.”
They kissed again and resumed their slow dance. It might be the last one they would have for some time.
13
This is gonna hurt.
Fathers had to be the strong ones. They had to set the example. Perhaps that’s where that false belief that “real men don’t cry” came from. Darren certainly didn’t ascribe to this notion, yet he also knew if he suddenly became an emotional wreck, the rest of his family would follow suit. Well, perhaps Meribeth wouldn’t, but she might already be crying because she wanted some more animal crackers.
It was comforting to know everything in their house was in order, with bills paid and the oil changed in the van and a guy hired to mow their lawn. They had even finally gotten a will, and the power of attorney had been done. Sobering tasks, but necessary.
With so much to do these past few days, it was easy to overlook the reality of his actual departure. To forget that he was about to say goodbye to his family not for hours or days but for months. His gut ached knowing he would soon be kissing his wife and kids for the last time.
Hosts of families lined the area just outside the red-roofed hangar at Hunter Army Airfield, bidding their loved ones goodbye before they passed through to board the massive C-17 transport plane waiting on the tarmac. Seeing all his fellow soldiers gave Darren a mixture of strange feelings. He was sad and anxious to leave at the same time. The reality hung in the air, the truth that something bad could and would happen in Iraq. Nobody needed to express it but everyone felt it. Darren knew he was blessed to have this wonderful family to bid goodbye. Not every soldier had one.
He spotted a stoic Michael standing in front of his twins, giving each of them and his wife a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to leave. As he departed, Tonya called out, “I love you!” Michael waved without even turning around.
Maybe he was hiding some tears he was shedding.
Heather bounced Meribeth in her arms, bracing herself for this moment. Kneeling in front of Sam and Elie, Darren put his arms around them. “Okay, bring it in, kiddos. Big hugs!”
As Sam and Elie smothered him, Heather and Meribeth joined them. Then as the two eldest kids finally let him go, Darren held on to his wife and their baby.
“Make sure this little one remembers me,” he whispered to Heather.
“Why do you think I made you suffer through all those photos?”
Darren kissed her, first on her lips as a tender husband, then giving her some more kisses on her cheeks, the kind a loving and playful daddy might give to mommy while the kids laughed. With everybody in good spirits, he high-fived Sam and Elie and then grabbed his gear to head to the plane.
Seconds later he heard Elie call out.
“Daddy!”
She ran toward him, past the line where family members could go. Heather called out for her but Elie was too fast, making it to Darren to give him another big bear hug.
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, Bug.”
The adoring face looked up at him with those precious eyes so sad. “But Daddy . . . what if you get shot?”
This was a moment to be strong. Darren didn’t have to fake it. He felt God giving him strength today. He gave Elie a reassuring smile, then pulled something out of his pocket.
Darren loved the Armor of God coins designed for Christian chaplains serving in the military. With their design recalling the spiritual “armor” described in Ephesians, the coins were meant to be an encouraging reminder of faith.
He handed Elie a coin. “Remember, honey,” he said. “I’ve always got my special armor on.”
“I know, Daddy,” she said, not exactly sounding as though she meant it.
“You keep this coin safe, okay? Whenever you get scared, or miss me, just hold on to this, and remember who’s protecting me.”
“Okay.”
“And keep saying the Bible verse you’ve been memorizing. Remember?”
Now Elie just nodded. She had recently memorized Psalm 18:1–3 as part of the homeschooling that Heather did with the kids. The verse was especially fitting today.
Darren wrapped his arms around Elie once more and lifted her up. “I love you like crazy.”
“I love you like crazy,” she repeated. “Don’t forget to send us goofy-face pictures, ’kay?”
“I won’t.”
Elie ran back to Heather as Darren waved to them one more time and gave them a big confident smile.
14
The words of King David comforted Darren as the plane took off and Heather as she drove the kids back home.
I love You, LORD; / you are my strength. / The LORD is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; / my God is my rock, in whom I find protection. / He is my shield, the power that saves me, / and my place of safety.
They both knew their strength couldn’t come from themselves. They needed God to give it to them. They knew He could shield and protect them. They believed He could do the same thing He had done for the psalmist who wrote the following words: I called on the LORD, who is worthy of praise, / and he saved me from my enemies.
PART 2
DEPLOYMENT
THE FIRST MONTH
1
The words he typed couldn’t fully sum up Darren’s feelings and thoughts, but they would have to suffice. He and Heather set up a CaringBridge site before he left, as a channel for sharing his news with friends and family and giving them a way to offer encouragement and support in return. His first post after leaving the United States he wrote from Kuwait.
May 13, 2007
Got a few minutes here in Kuwait at the “internet café.” Said goodbye Thursday morning to Heather and the kids—the most painful moment of my life so far. I never thought it would sting so bad. Now I am in Kuwait and ready for the mission. I really like being with my soldiers. Watching them get ready for war is getting me read
y for it as well. Where we are going is fairly volatile. My guys will be out in it, and I pray they get ready now. I don’t want to see anything go wrong.
I can tell their anxiety is going up, as this is for real now. Continue to pray for them and God’s protection, and for me to be there when they wonder what’s next. I have found a fellow officer who has a strong faith in Christ. I dubbed him my chaplain. I will get to vent to him as necessary, probably frequently. Thanks for everyone’s encouragement. I am thankful and privileged to be here, yet longing for home at the same time. No one prays harder for peace than those of us in the war!
God bless, Darren
2
The steady blades of the helicopter were broken by the cracks of gunfire below. Darren looked out the back door to see the fighting on the street below them, only a mile away from the base he would soon be arriving at. The machine gunner stood by the opening, ready just in case. As they began to land, the sound of a large explosion startled him.
Time for training is over.
He climbed out of the helicopter and followed the men to the group where one of the leaders was waiting.
“Welcome to Baghdad, people,” shouted Lt. Col. Jacobsen, the battalion commander. “Within thirty miles of which 80 percent of all of Iraq’s sectarian violence takes place.”
As Darren lined up next to the newly arrived soldiers, he felt the thrill of finally being there at Falcon Base. He knew it wasn’t the worst place they could have sent him, but neither was it the safest in terms of current threat levels. The young men next to him were ready, with some having already been to Iraq once or twice. He listened to the lieutenant colonel continue his official greetings.
“Here at Forward Operating Base Falcon we are 8.1 miles south of the Green Zone, but a nine iron from a freeway we are not allowed to control and neighborhoods full of both people we are here to protect and those who will try and kill us. It’s your job to know the difference.”
Darren felt that the longing for adventure and his calling in life were steps he had taken—that he and Heather had taken together as a couple—and that now finally after the long journey to get there, he would begin. A quote from Wild at Heart reverberated inside of him: We don’t need accountability groups; we need fellow warriors, someone to fight alongside, someone to watch our back.
Standing in formation, staring with sober eyes at the lieutenant colonel, Darren knew he was next to those fellow warriors, along with all of the men and women on this base.
Lt. Col. Jacobsen finished welcoming the new soldiers, then told Darren to follow him. As they walked, he could see the thick concrete walls surrounding them, walls within walls around a city of hangars, military vehicles, grounded trailers, and tent formations. As they had flown over Baghdad, they’d seen a sprawl of sand-colored homes. The freeway they took to get to the base had nothing on every side except a vast desert expanse. It was a country of dust, with soldiers dug in on all sides, their machines blowing it into the air.
“Six mortar rounds hit the base earlier today,” Jacobsen said while they walked. “No casualties, but you can never know where they’ll hit. They usually don’t strike buildings or people, but sometimes they do. The good news is we have the ability to strike back quickly, and when we do we usually succeed.”
The temperature went from unbearable to simply hot once they stepped inside Jacobsen’s humid office. They were greeted by the soldier waiting for them.
“At ease, Major North,” the lieutenant said, then gestured to make the introduction. “Chaplain Darren Turner.”
“Good to meet you,” North said as they shook hands.
Darren noticed the cross on North’s uniform.
“Good to meet you, Chaplain,” he said.
Chaplain North’s role as the base chaplain included receiving incoming chaplains, getting them connected with their units, and keeping track of everyone on base.
As they sat down, North’s good-natured smile was more welcoming than the steady and intense look on the lieutenant colonel’s face.
“First deployment?” North asked him.
“Yup. Got my M. Div. last year, finished basic training, and moved to Fort Stewart a week before learning I’d be deployed.”
Jacobsen opened the file on Darren and scanned it, probably for the first time. “Master of divinity, huh?” he said. “So how’s that working out with your kids?”
“Sir?”
“Your kids, son. North here has grand accreditation too, but he’ll be the first to tell you, in the real world, much less this one, theories and master’s dissertations go out the window. Kinda like at home, with three kids.”
Ah, I get it now.
“Well, mine are ten months to eight years, sir, and so far they’re on board. But all Heather and I know to do is tell them the truth and trust God with them.”
Lt. Col. Jacobsen gave him an affirming nod. “Always a bonus to have a chaplain who’s a family man.”
Before Darren could reply, the officer reached into a cabinet and pulled out a thick file, plopping it on the desk next to other files and reports.
“Divorces filed in the last three months,” he said, gesturing toward the file. “And hey, mine didn’t last either, so I’m not judging. But I do know soldiers losing families and having nothing to go home to is not the most stabilizing force we need here.”
“To say the least, sir,” Darren said.
Jacobsen raised an eyebrow. “This goes for you and yours too.”
“Understood, sir. But Heather and I, we’re called to this. She’s even volunteered for the family support team. It’s what it’s about for us—”
“The Family Readiness Group, that’s great,” Chaplain North interrupted. “Takes a special person.”
“Which she is, sir,” Darren said. “She’ll be great. We’re thankful for the opportunity.”
The lines in Jacobsen’s face didn’t move. Darren knew he had heard everything before, but that hadn’t stopped him from saying what he did. He just wanted to share the truth with these two men.
“Well, all right, then,” the lieutenant colonel said, standing once again. “Welcome to Falcon Base, Chaplain.”
After the lieutenant colonel left, Chaplain North pointed to the file that Jacobsen had given to him.
“Deployments strengthen strong marriages and weaken weak ones,” North told him. “You’ll find guys who just got here who are already mad at their wives. The combat isn’t the only trauma these soldiers have to deal with. The hardships on the marital front is why they seek and need comfort.”
“I can imagine, sir.”
North wiped sweat off his forehead. “So tell me a little more about why you’re here.”
“I’ve wanted to be in ministry since I became a believer. I’ve always wanted to serve people and share the message that helped me, so oddly enough, I’m very excited to be here. I want to be with soldiers when they’re going through the crisis of their life.”
“Well, remember,” North said, “strong families truly make strong soldiers. Come on—let me give you the tour.”
Chaplain North headed out of the trailer without waiting for Darren to pick up his large duffel bag, so he had to jog a little with the heavy pack just to keep up. They walked on a service road around the base of the camp. North began to rattle off where everything was, barking while the buzz of the military swelled like the heat around him.
“Gun range is down that road, hospital on the right, chow on the left. The chaplain’s tent right over there, with the Falcon lux-amenity package just for you: oscillating fans for A/C, turndown service by resident scorpions, and the blandest food this side of the Tigris.”
Darren grinned. “Must be why the price is right.”
He followed North down a stone-lined path to pass by his new home. Outside the door, a three-foot stone cross was staked into the ground.
“Got my assistant to make that,” Chaplain North said. “Out of some bombed marble our guys borrowed from one o
f Saddam’s castles.”
“A room full of preachers could debate that one for a while.”
They laughed as they continued, passing by one of the soldiers’ tents. A glassy-eyed private who looked barely of legal age to join the army stood waiting.
“Could I speak with you, Chaplain?” he asked North.
“Certainly. Darren, why don’t you head over to the range to meet your assistant, Sergeant Peterson? I’ll take care of your things.”
“Good idea,” Darren said.
“Come on inside, son,” Chaplain North said.
They didn’t even make it inside before the young man began to weep. Darren turned around and saw North consoling the soldier, an arm around him while they entered the tent.
That’ll be me soon enough.
He was ready for them to come to him. In many ways, it would be similar to the college students he used to minister to. Only in this case, the young men coming to him wouldn’t be stressed about homework and college bills. They would be anxious to stay alive.
As he walked to the shooting range, he spoke to God the way he always did. To pray without ceasing didn’t mean being on your knees in devout communication with the Lord, but talking with Him all day long. Praising God and thanking Him and asking for help and for forgiveness.
“Father, please be with that young man, and give him strength and hope,” he said in a soft whisper. “Give Chaplain North the right words to say.”
The barrage of gunfire became louder as Darren approached a handful of soldiers at the firing range, shooting at a row of paper targets. A soldier in the middle aimed the M4 carbine and shredded the target with ease. Impressive. He couldn’t find anybody who looked like a sergeant, so Darren went up to the range officer pacing behind and watching the shooters.
“Excuse me, Captain,” Darren said. “Any idea where I’d find a Sergeant Peterson up here?”
Indivisible Page 4