Purple Hearts & Wounded Spirits

by Moore, Brian;

  This basic level of training was amplified by the freezing temperatures that we endured for twelve hours per day outside. The infantry has a saying in regards to weather, “if it’s not raining we aren’t training, if it’s not snowing we aren’t going.” Yet it is Army Standard Operating Procedure (SOP) that when troops are training in cold temperatures that a “warming tent” be provided. I mention this not to whine but as an example of the level of frustration that we endured before ever leaving this country. A warming tent is just what it sounds like. Between training events soldiers can wait inside a tent that will shelter them from the rain, snow, and wind as well as provide some heat. During the weeks that we trained at Ft. Dix in January and February, only one tent was ever provided to us and it had no stove for heat.

  Training usually consisted of standing in line outside in the snow or freezing rain for hours, which eventually led to many of us becoming ill with a variety of cold weather ailments. To avoid having to deal with the reality of their poor planning and incompetence, the Base Command decided to reprimand any company leadership if one of their soldiers went to sick call for a cold weather injury, claiming that they were at fault and not the base command. This meant that no one went to sick call and we just got “unofficially” sicker. This impacted me directly when I developed the early stages of frostbite on my hands. Only Army training could give me frostbite while training for combat in the desert. My fingers swelled to the point that they were bleeding and I could no longer button my own uniform shirt and needed help getting dressed and undressed each day.

  Yet during this time I became “one of the guys” with this new unit. Most of them were friendly and treated me like I had always been there. Over time I discovered that the resentment was a combination of a belief that I had taken a position from one of them and the fact (for some) that they knew I was a Christian. For most soldiers my faith was not an issue at all, while some would seek me out to discuss their fears of the impending combat, some sort counsel on the probability of dying and what that meant, while a few only saw my faith as another reason to be irritated with me.

  I have never been a “Bible thumper,” as that aggressiveness usually turns people away from any evangelical opportunities. I have found that those who are antagonistic toward people of faith have usually had a combination of negative past experiences and personal conviction. I certainly have not lived a perfect life, but during this deployment I knew I was representing the Christian faith to my fellow soldiers. I was much more aware of my actions and how they could either hurt or enhance my ability to share the Gospel. Paraphrasing a common theme, a Christian is just one hungry man telling another hungry man where to find bread, which is how I try to approach evangelism.

  I was always aware of my testimony and that made dealing with all of the frustrations of the mobilization site even more challenging. If I moaned and groaned like some of the others, I would not be a good example of the contentment one can find through Christ. Others should be able to see a difference in Christians, one that is positive, peace filled and attractive. They should walk away asking themselves, “Why do they deal with hard times differently than I do?” It was never about what others thought of me (I could have cared less), but rather what they thought of Jesus. This became my reality and motivation as we moved toward our eventual deployment.

  My first opportunity to make a difference came when I was assigned the leadership role for the following day’s movement to the range (any training site that involved firing some sort of weapon system). The weather called for subzero temperatures with the wind-chill. This meant another day of getting to the range before sunrise, standing around freezing while waiting for the range staff to show up, and then standing in line so we could lie down in the cold, wet snow to simulate firing our weapons in the desert!

  Normally, we were issued an MRE (Meal Ready to Eat or as we liked to say Meals Refused by Ethiopia) to eat during the twelve hour day we would spend on the range. I inquired of our leadership why we did not get hot soup or coffee brought out to us. I was told that we did not need anything more than MREs and that it would “toughen us up!” This statement was made by someone who almost never spent any time with the troops outside and never lost a full night’s sleep or missed a hot meal. These misunderstandings and examples of failed leadership made a strong impact on how I would lead later deployments. I had learned early that when a soldier is deployed it is the little things that make a big difference, and being “tough” does not mean being miserable when it is not necessary.

  I took the initiative to ask the DFAC (dining facility) staff if it was possible to get some hot food out to the range; they offered to prepare it as long as I could get someone to transport it to us. I spoke to the NCO in charge of supply and he agreed to deliver it. I also knew that the buses that transported us to and from the range were invariably late, which meant freezing soldiers standing around in the dark (after being on their feet for twelve hours). I contacted transportation and advised them that our pickup time was earlier than planned. That next day we did freeze standing around at the range, but we also had hot soup and coffee and the buses were “on time.” This made a big impression on the troops and I never forgot how much it improved their morale during an otherwise miserable experience.

  Unfortunately, the old adage “no good deed goes unpunished” held true and my “initiative” to make things better for the troops was not well received by some in the Chain of Command (CoC). I was verbally reprimanded for not following the preset training schedule, for accessing support from the DFAC and logistics, and most importantly, allowing the troops to realize that what I had done had always been possible. Now the troops would expect this to continue which of course meant more work on the CoC’s part.

  Military tradition dictates that when you are being reprimanded you do not argue your point; you just respond with “yes or no, SGT/Sir” and accept responsibility, which I did. However when I was asked if I fully understood my role as an NCO, I replied that I did and that if placed in a similar position again I would repeat my actions. I stated that my role as an NCO was to take care of the troops while accomplishing the mission and if that meant thinking outside the box then I was willing to take responsibility for my actions. Needless to say that did not go over well and I was not given any similar leadership roles while at mobilization other than those no one else wanted to do.

  One of the extra duties I was assigned was to attend the “NCO Call” at the NCO Club on base. This was an informational meeting called by the First SGT of the PP training battalion where he would put out pertinent information, reference changes in the training schedule, and to discuss any issues that the mobilization units might have. Unfortunately, it was more of a formality to demonstrate that the PP command was being proactive in regards to dealing with training issues (i.e., no warming tents at the range). However it became apparent that nothing was actually going to get addressed so these mandatory meetings were just more time wasted out of an already long day.

  The test to my testimony, which also led to later internal struggles for me, was the fact that these meetings were held at the NCO Club (a bar for NCOs). Although I did not have any issues with drinking in moderation, I had not had a drink in over a decade due to my position in various Christian church and school ministries. I believed that if I accepted a position with a ministry that specifically forbade its members from drinking alcohol then I was morally obligated to abstain.

  Therefore, while sitting at a table in a bar where others are drinking I “rationalized” that I was no longer directly a member of a ministry therefore I could have a drink and not be morally compromised. Notice that I said “rationalized.” I had not resigned my position from the Christian school I was working at, I had just been deployed and my position would be waiting for me when I returned home. Even more important was the fact that the other soldiers saw me as a Christian and seeing me drink might create a stumbling block for them. Yet, in all honesty, I believe I drank b
ecause out of all the units at the mobilization site our unit was the only one forbidden to drink alcohol by our own CoC. This fueled my belief that if I was being ordered to attend a meeting of little importance, then I was going to have a drink to “take the edge off.” This is not to say that I got hammered or drunk; I was not stupid, just prideful and stubborn.

  Eventually our time at the mobilization site came to a close and we prepared for our flight to the Middle East. I was able to see Raquel, my mother, my sister Carole and her husband Terry before our unit left. I thoroughly enjoyed our time together, and I could not have been happier than when I was able to see them again, especially Raquel. I learned years later as Raquel and I began to discuss these events that she would not have come to see me again if she had realized just how painful saying good-bye again would be for her. She said, “It was like having my heart ripped out all over again since the day you loaded the bus in New Hampshire.” As time went on I would learn that there were several other situations that Raquel had suffered through in silence, not wanting to burden me with concerns for her and the kids.

  I believe in an adage that “if you are quick to criticize then you should be twice as quick to praise.” I have already stated a few criticisms of those in various leadership roles, therefore I want to recognize and praise those in leadership that made a positive difference for us all. I specifically recall two young officers who were excellent examples of military leadership. They were outside before we were and as long as we needed to be. They ate chow last, went to bed after the troops and were always the last soldiers on every late bus regardless of time or weather conditions. I learned how to be good leader from men such as these, and it was this type of leadership that ultimately will make the worst conditions bearable and most missions successful.

  Section II

  Chapter Three

  Wheels Up

  RAQUEL AND I HAD SAID our last good-byes at the mobilization site, both of us trying to appear brave and unmoved by the reality of what was happening. Before she and my mom finished their five hour drive home my unit was airborne and bound for Kuwait. During our time at the mobilization site the guys and I took notice of the huge jets that were taking off on a regular basis from the airfield just across the fence from our barracks. We frequently lamented our situation and wished that we were already on one of those flights. Most of the guys just wanted to get this thing started; the monotony and obvious uselessness of mobilization was getting to everyone.

  Finally that day came; we were lined up on the tarmac, most of our gear already loaded or in route via a big metal container called a conex. I recall walking toward the stairs to load the jet, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach. I realized at that moment that this was the point of no return. For now I was still in the United States and only a few hours from home, but once that jet took off I would be a world away with no way of getting back for over a year. Separated from my wife and kids as never before, all of these thoughts were racing through my head and I began feeling nauseous. Looking back, I wonder if I had an unrealistic belief that in order to protect my family I had to be with them all the time. This separation has taught me that ultimately they are God’s children first and that His love for them is far greater than anything I could feel or do.

  It was then that I noticed the soldier next to me appeared to be experiencing what I was feeling, he was pale and looked like he was about to pass out. I put my hand on his shoulder and stated that we would get through this together and that I had his back. That had a positive impact on him as he was able to board the jet. I learned an extremely important fact at that moment. If I was focused on myself I would get tunnel vision and become overwhelmed with my own fears, making me ineffective for the mission and, even worse, a liability to the other soldiers with whom I served. The understanding of that reality not only served me well throughout my three tours, it also became a part of my training for new troops being deployed on later tours.

  Simply stated, your brother can cover your back better than you can as long as you are focused on looking out for each other. Everyone on the team will face certain death to save another soldier, but looking out for only you will most likely lead to paralysis by fear. I saw this played out firsthand in Baghdad during a convoy escort mission. A convoy ahead of ours had been hit which caused a ripple effect throughout the city. We halted our convoy, not able to move forward or reverse. We dismounted and watched the roof tops waiting for the inevitable attack. ; During the attack I was informed that there was a soldier under the truck behind ours. I found the soldier curled up into the fetal position crying and in a state of panic. When talking failed I grabbed the soldier by the legs, pulled her out from under the truck, disarmed her and threw her into the back of their truck, doing this while bullets and rockets were being fired at us. That event never left me; here was a soldier that was not only incapable of defending herself, but became a danger to the other soldiers with her.

  Chapter Four

  Kuwait

  EVENTUALLY WE DID BOARD THE JET and spent what seemed like an eternity crammed in together like sardines before we finally landed in Kuwait. The good news was that we landed at night, so the temperature was a mere eighty-five degrees; it would be well over one hundred degrees by mid-day. Remember that we had just left a mobilization site where it was below zero and many of us were “unofficially” suffering from various cold weather illnesses.

  The base we occupied was overwhelmed by troops trying to move north into Iraq. This was still early in the war, and it seemed like no one in command was prepared for the movement of so many troops, especially at this base. There were extremely long lines in front of every building. This was before cell phones were available in Kuwait, so we stood in line for up to two hours to use the pay phone for a twenty minute call home. Long lines are a common feature of military life, especially in a deployed situation. The one thing that infuriated us was the fact that an American phone carrier appeared to be taking advantage of deployed troops by inflating phone card charges. The phone cards we had purchased in the United States that were worth one hundred minutes there were now worth only ten minutes overseas—a ninety percent reduction in value. We had no warning of this, and the company’s answer was that we were making overseas calls on domestic cards. That may sound obvious enough except it does not take into account the peculiar situation wherein deployed troops find themselves. There was a lot of noise made about this back home and eventually adjustments were made for deployed soldiers using phone cards.

  Although we made an attempt to prepare for our mission in Iraq, we really did not know what to expect so we just kept to the basics: weapons and gear maintenance, land navigation (land nav) and communication (coms) familiarization. When not training or standing in long lines, we hung out in our own “circus tent,” named this due to its enormous size and circus-like stripes. It was during this down time that my faith became the subject of conversation. Soldiers would discuss the issue that faith might play for soldiers about to enter a combat zone and the possibility of death. The soldiers in my unit knew that I worked at a Christian school, so I was sought out by those who had serious questions about the reality of life and death and what that might mean for them. It also made me a target for chastisement by those who held some animosity toward Christianity.

  It was at these times that I believed the Lord had sent me with this unit; I once spent as long as three hours talking with one particular soldier about his faith. My wife and kids had given me a new study Bible to take with me. It was an invaluable asset, not just for sharing the Gospel, but for my own study and prayer as well. During the time that we were “stranded” in Kuwait I was able to share my faith directly with over a dozen men and led three to the Lord prior to our departure. Yet this time spent sharing God’s word did not come without my own internal conflict. I was still torn by my desire to be right before God and to enter my time in Iraq as an obedient soldier just doing his duty; I would kill the enemy as dictated by our Rules of E
ngagement (ROE).

  Deep in my heart I still harbored a burning anger and hatred for those who had attacked us on 9/11 and anyone who would align themselves with them. I would be lying if I did not admit that I was scared about facing the enemy on their turf. My hatred had grown so deep and dark that it overwhelmed any other emotion I had at times. I was obviously conflicted and felt guilty about my attitude. I struggled and prayed, but only managed to suppress my hatred; honestly I did not want to let go of it, because it gave me strength to overcome the fear of what lay ahead. It was as if my courage was being fueled by my anger toward our enemies. The greater my hatred grew, the more I would search out opportunities for combat hoping to kill as many of the enemy as I could.

  This became a two-edged sword: I believe this attitude gave me an advantage when dealing with future hardships, but it also served to drive a wedge between me and my Savior. I have heard it said that you cannot have an honest relationship with God without dealing with the sin in your own life. My problem was not ignoring my sin but actually embracing it, rationalizing that it was keeping me alive and making me more effective with the mission before me. I brazenly told myself that I would “settle up” with God when I got home, and if I did not make it home then I was certain He would “settle up” with me.

  We arrived in Kuwait with the belief that we would be transported to Iraq shortly. However, it became apparent that we had fallen through the cracks and were literally stranded. There were so many troops trying to move north that our NG Company did not have the authority necessary to secure our entire unit a flight. Most of our command finally flew out and we laughed about not having “a ride to the war.” Eventually we had to fly “space available” in small groups until we all arrived at our first base in northern Iraq.