The soldier with the great aim turned to greet them.
“Ya found her, Chaplain,” she said, lifting up her Oakley shades and swapping her magazine.
His pause and the embarrassed grin on his face gave away his surprise.
“No offense taken,” the sergeant said, before turning to aim her weapon once more. “But if there’s a guy here who can keep ya vertical and run your office like I can, I’ll eat my helmet.”
The fellow soldiers beside her laughed, a few of them ribbing her back just as the range officer called out the customary “Ready-Aim-Fire.” The lightweight and gas-operated standard issue M4 let go of another barrage of shots. The hanging portions of her target were eviscerated.
She grabbed the empty magazines and placed them on her station table, then she walked up to him to shake hands. She quickly led him back out to the road.
“Any better, you’ll embarrass the snipers there,” he said to her.
She grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled, keeping him from walking directly out in front of a big truck driving past.
“Six years Atlanta PD,” she said as she walked with her M4 comfortably settled in both hands, the barrel pointing down and to the right. “Here by the way of the National Guard.”
“Here by the way of Fort Stewart,” he stated. “And six years of college campus ministry, which is pretty much the same thing.” He chuckled.
Her pretty face shot him a look that didn’t require words.
“Hardest day of my life was leaving my wife and kids on that tarmac,” Darren told her. “How about you?”
Before she could answer, a piercing whine interrupted and a blast ripped through the base, slamming Darren to the ground. As rocks and debris rained down on him, he opened his eyes to find the woman on top of him.
“Head down!” she ordered, shoving his face into the dirt.
The blast had struck just outside the base, but it had been too close for Darren. The sergeant jumped back up on her small frame, then put a hand out and helped Darren to his feet.
“Name’s Shonda. And that’s the third blast in four days. One hit munitions last year and killed three hundred soldiers. So if I’m gonna keep you alive, you’re gonna listen and follow my lead. And stop asking questions about my family, sir.”
He was no longer smiling. “It’s a deal. At any price.”
3
The clock on the wall said 9:40 a.m., causing Heather to stop for a second to calculate the time for Darren. He was seven hours ahead, making it 4:40 p.m. on the base, which also meant it was almost time for dinner. It had only been a few days, but she already wished he were at home, manning the grill while making the kids laugh.
A knock at the front door broke her reverie. She was surprised to find Tonya and the girls at her doorstep, each of them holding a plate of goodies.
“Oh my goodness,” Heather said, honestly surprised to see them. “Hi.”
“We made twenty-four cookies,” Nia said with a proud smile.
“No, that’s how many times you licked the spoon,” Mia joked.
“Did not!”
“We figured the kids would love something sweet,” Tonya said.
“You figured right,” Heather said, urging them to come inside.
Sam and Elie were excited not only to see their neighbors, but to see them bearing cookies. Even though it was midmorning, there was never a bad time for cookies. Heather poured milk for the kids and coffee for the moms. Tonya had brought by some material on the Family Readiness Group, since Heather had told her she wanted to be a part of it.
Enjoying their sugar rush, Sam and Elie ran out to the back with the twins to jump on the trampoline as Meribeth sat in her high chair and decorated her face with still-warm chocolate chips. Tonya opened the big binder she had brought.
“So, let’s talk about the FRG,” she said as if she was giving a lecture. “The Casualty Response Team is part of Family Readiness, and we, uh . . .” Tonya shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I can’t give this canned speech. They can call it the Family Readiness Group, but it’s our third time out, and nobody’s ever ready to do this job. Not even close.”
“I can imagine,” Heather said.
“FRG is a good thing. It’s here to make sure all the families get the proper information from command. It helps keep you connected to what’s happening. Or, at least, that’s what it’s supposed to do.”
Heather could feel the weight of Tonya’s words. They carried history and memory.
“Thank you for being honest,” she said. “I really believe I’m called to this, so I’ll train and prepare as best I can. And we’ll just stick together, okay? I know you have a lot to teach me.”
“I don’t know about that. But I can show you what to expect. To help you be as prepared as possible.”
“I’m so grateful that you’re here to show me the ropes.”
The kids in the backyard rushed by the kitchen window, laughing and hollering. Tonya seemed far away from the table they sat at.
“I don’t want to unload on you,” she said. “But, well, every time Michael comes home, he’s angrier. More distant.”
The two women shared a moment with a single, solitary look. Both remembered the first day they met, how Michael was yelling at Tonya through the front door.
“I have been praying and praying for that man. And maybe I shouldn’t ask you this, but . . . do you think you could ask Darren to look out for Michael? To talk to him? We could use all the help we can get.”
Heather reached over and squeezed Tonya’s hand. “Of course. You’re not unloading anything. We don’t have to have some official group to be allowed to vent or ask for help. I know Darren would love to get to know Michael. And he’s a prayer warrior. We’ll begin to pray along with you.”
“Thanks,” Tonya said.
4
There wasn’t much inside this tent. Just two metal desks, some old file cabinets, a set of lockers, and an oscillating fan. And, yes, there was also the world’s most out-of-place regal chair sitting dead center in the chaplain’s quarters, red velvet stitched with gold trim. Darren had found it amusing, to say the least.
With night setting over the base, he began to unpack his suitcase. The first item he took out had been carefully secured with bubble wrap and tape. It was the small, hand-carved wooden box containing his Armor of God coins. He took one out of the box and slipped it into his shirt pocket, then placed the box on his desk.
Next he found the new leather journal he’d bought for keeping a record of his experiences overseas and opened it for the first time. Inside on the first page were large crayoned words: WE LOVE YOU! ELIE AND SAM. The message pinched at his heart, reminding him of the distance and the loss. So did the framed photo of the family that he took out of the bag. He studied it in the silence. Darren knew he was in the hearts and minds and prayers of Heather and the kids, yet it still didn’t beat seeing them in person.
He knew it was like that with God, except better. He loved God and prayed to Him all day long and strived to obey Him, yet he had to wait to see Him one day. Until then, he would simply have to carry that hope inside of him, letting it give him strength and encouragement, and hopefully allowing Darren to do the same with the men and women he ministered to.
Somewhere in the distance, the blast of a bomb went off. He could never forget where he was, because even if he did, this place would remind him.
He decided to spend a little time with C. S. Lewis before going to bed, and opened up his copy of A Grief Observed. As always, a passage fit in perfectly with this moment in time and the place he was at.
You never know how much you really believe anything until its truth or falsehood becomes a matter of life and death to you. It is easy to say you believe a rope to be strong and sound as long as you are merely using it to cord a box. But suppose you had to hang by that rope over a precipice. Wouldn’t you then first discover how much you really tru
sted it?
Darren knew it was one thing to talk about serving in the army and what he felt God was calling him to do, but it was an entirely different thing to actually be here, miles away from the family. He knew he was hanging over the precipice. He ached to be back home, watching his baby daughter learn to stand and take her first steps, taking Sam and Elie to their first camp. He missed Heather’s big hugs and her smile that always made him glad she’d married him.
Only a real risk tests the reality of a belief, Lewis wrote.
Darren knew he was following where he believed God had led him. Like Jonah, he didn’t like the destination God had picked, but there was no better place to be than where God calls you to be. He didn’t fully understand it all, but then again, that’s why it was called faith.
He doesn’t ask us to understand Him. Just to follow Him.
5
The seconds drifted away like bubbles floating upward and then popping, never to be seen again. Heather held back her impatience as she listened to Elie and now Sam finally talk to their father on the phone. It seemed like it had been forever since they’d heard from him. There had been blackouts every day of the two weeks he’d been gone, but none were due to his unit. Darren had explained how whenever there was a fatality the entire base would have a communication blackout to avoid rumors or miscommunication while the army notified the family back home.
“And don’t forget, Daddy,” Sam shouted as he spoke into the phone. “Email us goofy-face photos, okay?”
Heather smiled, knowing Darren would definitely do this. He probably didn’t need to be reminded. She moved over and waved for Sam to give her the phone.
“You too,” Sam said into the receiver. “Mommy wants her turn now.”
As Heather took the phone, Elie gave a swat. “Phone hog!” Elie said. “You hurried me, then you talked forever!”
Heather chuckled. “They were so excited to talk to you.”
“It’s so great to hear your voice,” Darren said.
“No kidding. Two weeks feels like one and one hundred at the same time.”
“A hundred? Wow. How are you holding up?”
Where do I begin?
She could have told him about the long hours of playing and taking care of the little ones. Or answering life’s important questions including why ants didn’t have trampolines. Or Sam coming to her with one of her exercise videos asking if she could do it so he could have a little brother. Or she could have told Darren about the ladies she’d met in the Family Readiness Group, and about Lisa Ainsley, who had stopped by the house to hang out. They had spoken about their spiritual journeys for quite a bit, and Lisa shared that she wanted a relationship with God that was real and practical. Since she didn’t understand what the idea of being “saved” meant, Heather suggested they could start doing a Bible study together.
There was all of that and a thousand other things, but Heather simply replied, “Well, I’m enjoying sleeping on your side of the bed. Is that bad?”
His laughter made her smile even bigger.
“Hardly. I’ve got a one-man cot all to myself. You should live it up too.” He let out a wistful groan. “Biggest challenge here is learning all the names and being the first one in after they clean the latrines. But . . . I think I can make a difference here.”
“Of course you will,” she said, then remembered something she wanted to be sure to tell him. “Oh, by the way, the website’s up. And our plan is to add pictures every day so you don’t miss a thing.”
“Great—” He paused, then let out a sigh. “Ugh. The red light on the phone just flashed. I’m out of time already.”
“Wow. Next time the kids will have to wait. Hey, what do you think of sending a quick email each night? Just to, you know, say what you had for lunch?”
“Babe, part of me wants to. But I don’t want you to worry. Just because our internet’s spotty. Or if I’m off base one day and you don’t get an email.”
“Okay, I get it,” she lied. “I get it.”
“I love you so much,” Darren said.
“I love you too.”
The click on the other end of the line felt louder than it usually did. It also seemed to echo even after she put down the cordless phone.
In the background, Sam was yelling that Elie had taken something from him. Somewhere else she could hear Meribeth crying.
Please, God, give me the emotional energy to make it through today.
Heather wanted to be as strong as Darren was being. She didn’t want to get to the end of each day feeling as though she had simply survived; she wanted to thrive in this season and one day look back with pride at how God had given her the strength she needed day and night.
I have to labor through with God’s power and not my own.
The enemy wanted Heather to feel tired and lonely and ultimately defeated. She kept reminding herself she couldn’t do this on her own. But she and the kids weren’t on their own, and neither was Darren.
6
Darren sat upright in his fancy red armchair, staring directly into the digital camera. It flashed a yellow button while he scrunched up his nose and opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue—just as someone opened the flaps to his tent. He waited for a second, not changing his expression until he heard the click of the photo being taken.
“Oh, hey, Shonda—Sergeant,” he said, correcting himself. “Come in.”
“Jacobsen moved up the meet-n-greet, but deliveries from home come first,” she said, carrying two boxes over to his desk and then handing him the bigger of the two.
Darren reached for the cutters as Shonda opened her box with her hands. She glanced over at his computer monitor and saw the image of his funny face.
“Official army business there, Chaplain?” she asked with a grin.
“Keep a family together, keep a soldier together. Darn right.”
Her expression suddenly changed. Darren knew he had hit a nerve, but he wasn’t about to inquire. He’d been warned off.
“Beef jerky,” he said with excitement as he saw the massive stash in the box that also included candy and Bibles.
Shonda didn’t bother to examine the remaining contents of hers. “Jacobsen’s on in ten and we pull out,” she told him as she walked back out of the tent.
A moment later Darren walked out to the commons area. He stood next to the senior officers and listened to Lieutenant Colonel Jacobsen addressing the men and women of the 30th Infantry Regiment. The officer stood at a podium, a large and detailed map behind him.
“So while we’ve made big strides to destroy Al-Qaeda and her offspring to liberate and stabilize this nation, the challenge remains. Hooah?”
The soldiers answered the commander with one roaring “Hooah!” that Darren felt rip through his bones.
“Today, Third and Fourth Platoons are gonna sweep our next-door neighbors again, see if they can slow down the welcome gifts coming over the wall.” Jacobsen turned to Darren. “Chaplain Turner? Mind sending them out?”
As he took off his cap, Darren wasn’t nervous stepping up to the podium, but he did know this was one of those important moments, a time when many of them would see and hear him for the first time.
“First, it’s been an honor to meet such amazing men and women, committed to our country and defending the defenseless here in Iraq. I hope it goes without saying, but my tent’s open 24/7. I’d like to meet you all.”
He noticed his neighbor, Michael Lewis, joining the group near the back.
“In the interim, as you work hard every day to help the good people here in Iraq, remember your families at home need the same. Takes hard work and courage to love them from here, as best we can, but they need it, so it’s courage we gotta have.”
A variety of looks could be seen on the soldiers’ faces, from wide-eyed attention to indifference to a few rolling their eyes in a scoffing look that seemed to say Give me a break. Michael seemed to be in the third camp. Darren closed his eyes and bowed his head.<
br />
“Lord, be with these men and women as they go out today. Please protect them and give them the strength they need . . .”
As Darren prayed, he wasn’t just praying for those in front of him. He would be going out along with them. He hoped any nerves and anxiety couldn’t be detected behind the words of the prayer he lifted up before God.
7
With the seat belt securely strapped over both of his shoulders and around his waist, buckling near his abdomen, Darren sat upright in the MRAP light tactical vehicle as it rode along with the convoy to a patrol base. Every sort of protection for the soldiers was accounted for, from the body armor and helmet he wore to the glasses protecting his eyes. This vehicle itself was the army’s next generation of combat vehicles built to counter the enemy’s weapon of choice: the deadly IEDs waiting for them.
The MRAP was named for its description as a mine-resistant ambush-protected vehicle. Since so many soldiers were dying in Humvee explosions due to the flatness underneath, the MRAP was designed with a V-shaped hull to offset explosions. Nine feet high and weighing nearly eighteen tons, it could drive twenty to thirty degrees on its side without even rolling over.
The MRAPs were replacing many of the Humvees that were typically used.
The different sort of missions MRAP vehicles would participate in included raids, traffic control, providing convoy security, escorting someone, combat patrol, medical evacuations, and transporting personnel.
With Master Sergeant Russ Carter driving the MRAP and Sergeant Mitchell riding shotgun, Darren sat next to Shonda. Every now and then he would look up at the gunner standing between them, manning the M2 .50-caliber machine gun on top of their vehicle. The remarkable thing about the MRAP was how an eighteen-ton armored vehicle could be so quiet. As they moved across the country, all of them watched the surrounding area outside the small windows as their convoy with other Strykers and Humvees moved steadily along.
The small talk Darren had been making with Shonda hadn’t gone anywhere, but he couldn’t resist continuing to try. It was either that or being forced to ride alone with his own thoughts.
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