Author Archives: Dave

Remember the Alamo!

It’s been a year since I got the call. I actually got two phone calls. Both from people I previously served with in the Reserves asking if I’d rejoin them for a deployment as a chaplain assistant on their Unit Ministry Team. It was a couple of weeks of thought, prayer, and discussion (mostly with my wife) before I decided to say yes. Of course, it was my wife’s blessings on the matter that made my decision. I was surprised when she told me I should do it. She told me she knew I wanted to; that the reason I came back in the military was to serve; and she pointed out that they did call me. Any chaplain assistant can do that job, but it did feel good being hand-picked.

In the last year, I have been training and going to schools to learn how to do my job better. I have also been getting to know my team better and getting to know the other soldiers I’ll be deploying with in my unit. I’ve been adjusting to changes. Not just the changes for getting ready for deployment, but in the mission itself. I think my mission has changed three times. Those of you familiar with the military know how common change is, it’s really the only constant we have sometimes. But those of you who know me, know I resist change once I’ve settled into whatever it is I need to do. It’s been a struggle, but it’s been a great learning experience.

As with my last deployment, there is a four-day pass. And as with my last deployment I am spending it with my wife, this time in San Antonio instead of New York City. The kids are at my mother’s house. I opted to not have to say goodbye to the kids a second time in less than two months. It’s protecting me more than it is them, emotionally speaking. I think they adjust well, partly because they don’t fully understand the magnitude of this. Not that I understand it, but I grasp the concept of the seriousness of going to war, and all the different things that can happen.

While on pass in San Antonio, my wife and I visited the Alamo, a very important place in the fight for the independence of Texas in 1836. What an awesome and historic place to be standing at. We toured the grounds and buildings. We read much about it’s history, some of which I remember from school books, some I learned for the first time. There were antique pistols, rifles, swords, clothes, dishes, eyeglasses, and so much more. Much of which was there at the Alamo, belonging to the men who died there. I do love this kind of stuff, to be that close to history that you can almost touch it. And I did break the rule of not touching the walls by running my fingers along it for a second. Not to be a rebel, but to touch history.

The thing that caught my attention the most at the Alamo was a letter written by the commander of the Alamo, William Barrett Travis on February 24, 1836. It became know as the Travis letter. He addressed the letter: “To the People of Texas and All Americans in the World-” He wrote that he and his men were outnumbered by the Mexican army led by Santa Anna and that he answered their demand of surrender with a cannon-shot. He wrote that he would never surrender or retreat. He was looking for help, but also wrote: “If this call is neglected, I am determined to sustain myself as long as possible & die like a soldier who never forgets what is due to his own honor & that of his country- Victory or Death.”

This moved me. It stirred my soul to read those words and realize I was standing right there, where brave men fought to the death for what they knew was right and just. And not only men from Texas fought and died at the Alamo. There were men from all over what was still a young America and men from other countries that had come to help Texas in their Independence. It would appear that in the days leading up to the fall of the Alamo, these men knew they were going to die defending what they believed. And they all stayed. And they all fought. And they all died.

We are still of that mindset today. We are fighting battles for the independence of others, sacrificing for what we know to be right and just. I know without a doubt that the men and women I’m going to Afghanistan with have the same determination and honor as the soldiers at the Alamo 177 years ago. The uniforms and weaponry are different, but the heart and spirit of a soldier have never changed. Our heart gives us strength to never surrender or retreat and our spirit gives us confidence when we only have two choices- Victory or Death.

Remember the Alamo! Good day and God bless.

Dave

Preparing for Deployment

(I started this entry on June 19. My computer died that day. It’s taken a month to get a new computer and get back to it. Thank you Bruce and Carol for the computer!!! Much appreciated. Instead of adding to this post all the stuff in between then and now, I will simply finish this one the way I was going to and do a new entry later this week. Enjoy)

It’s been a while since I posted to the blog. I started the blog to fill some time when I had to quit school to prepare for deployment with my reserve unit. I had thought that not going to school would give me too much time on my hands and I wanted something to fill that time. However, since March I have been going non-stop with training, drills, army schools, travel, and just getting ready in general. The time has finally arrived. Our mobilization orders have gone into effect. We have moved to Ft. Hood. We will now finish our training and be deployed in the near future.

As we had our farewell/mobilization ceremony at the unit over the past weekend, a lot of things come to mind for this deployment. First and foremost, I’m so happy my family could join me for the weekend. They were not able to be at the last ceremony I was part of for a deployment. And my younger children were too small to fully comprehend it last time anyway. This time they were there, watched the ceremony, listened to the speakers, and understood what was going on.

The second thing I thought of was how easy I’ll have it compared to my wife. I have long thought this, and it was spoken about by one of the generals at the ceremony, that the spouse of the deployed soldier has the harder job. When I deploy, I’ll be told where to be, when to be there, where to sleep, what to eat, etc. I will have little to worry about most things. My wife on the other hand will now be the mom and the dad; the good guy and the bad guy; the referee, the comforter, the judge and jury. And not that I did a ton of housework, she’ll have to pick up my slack now. Thankfully, we have some awesome children that I know will step up and make things happen. My wife and my kids are my heroes for allowing me to do what I do.

As I look around at my fellow soldiers in my unit I consider them family. There has always been a special bond between people in the military. That bond is multiplied greatly and even more present when a group comes together to go to war. It’s a special feeling to be part of a group like this. And this is a special group to be part of.

Lastly, as far as the blog goes, I’ll finish with this thought. During the ceremony we did the Soldier’s Creed. Within the Soldier’s Creed is the Warrior Ethos, four short lines of the Creed. When doing the Soldier’s Creed in a large group I actually tear up a little. It’s very moving. Even though you can’t get the full effect of 200+ soldiers belting it out, here’s the Soldier’s Creed with the Warrior Ethos in bold:

I am an American Soldier.

I am a warrior and a member of a team. I serve the people of the United States and live the Army Values.

I will always place the mission first.

I will never accept defeat.

I will never quit.

I will never leave a fallen comrade.
I am disciplined, physically and mentally tough, trained and proficient in my warrior tasks and drills. I always maintain my arms, my equipment and myself.

I am an expert and I am a professional.

I stand ready to deploy, engage, and destroy the enemies of the United States of America in close combat.

I am a guardian of freedom and the American way of Life.

I am an American Soldier.

HOOAH!! Good day and God bless.

Dave

War Stories From My Grandpa

As a young man, my Grandpa Richard joined the Navy and served in World War II. Later, he joined the Air Force and served in both Korea and Viet Nam. He is one of the few men I had ever met in person that pulled the trifecta of service in all three of those wars.

I was four years old when the Viet Nam War ended. The country seemed to be in a state of turmoil for a while after that. And while I’m sure I didn’t stop what I was doing everyday to watch the 6 o’ clock news it was impossible for anyone, even a child, not to hear what was going on in the world or be in earshot of opinions about such an explosive, hot-blooded topic.

At some point, probably when I was about six years old, maybe seven, I had too many questions in my little head from all the debates and discussion still going on about what happened in Viet Nam and I asked my grandpa why we lost the war. That was not pretty. He was upset that I asked and chastised me right there in public. He told me never to ask him that again. I went a long time wondering about his military service, what he had done, where he had been, and what kind of stories he had. But for the longest time, I just never asked.

When I was in my late teens making a trip from Louisiana to Florida, I stopped at my grandparent’s house to spend the night on the way. Grandpa and I were up watching late night reruns of Baa Baa Black Sheep, a TV show based on a USMC aviator fighter squadron from WWII. During our discussion of the show I decided to ask about his time in the military. He told me some stories. He shared some things with me. I asked questions about each of the wars he served in and he answered them. It was one of the few bonding moments I can remember having with him.

Somewhere in a box or drawer I still have a shell casing from the 21 gun salute that was done at his funeral by an honor guard from Keesler Air Force Base. I remember the ceremony. I remember the flag being folded. I remember my grandma crying. I don’t have a clear memory of the stories he shared with me that night twenty something years ago, but I will never forget how it felt that he shared with me his experiences of war. Perhaps it meant so much to me because for so many years I thought the subject was taboo. Maybe it was because when he shared with me, I felt he looked at me as a man instead of child. For whatever the reason, it was a special moment for me that I still cherish today.

Going to war when he did is very different from going to war today. And it even changed significantly from his service in WWII to his time in Viet Nam. I don’t have great war stories from my time in Iraq, and I’m alright with that. And I hope my next deployment is just as uneventful. But here’s one thing that I see as the same from both his generation and mine concerning going to war: Coming home from war is the hard part.

Veterans from my grandfather’s era are fading fast. If you know one or have the honor of meeting one, thank them. And if they’ll share their stories, take the time to listen. They are in fact dubbed The Greatest Generation for a reason.

Good day and God bless.

Dave

Don’t Panic. It Might Only Be a Drill.

Sometimes things happen and we get flustered. Your heart starts to race, you become unsure of what you need to do next, and sometimes your motor skills fail you. But try not to panic. That never helps.

When I deployed to Iraq, we first stopped in Kuwait. The process was to go to Kuwait for about ten days, get acclimated to the heat, finish up any last-minute training and admin stuff, and get transportation to where we would be doing our jobs. This time was also used for units to practice drills. The siren would blare followed by a voice stating that it was a drill. The voice would indicate which unit was to respond and everyone else would go about their business. Keep in mind we did not receive live rounds until it was time to move north. Only the security forces had live rounds at the transition base. One day at lunch the siren blared followed by a voice: “THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.” It was like kicking an ant pile watching some of the people leaving the dining facility. As I looked around, picked up my lunch tray, started to stand, a young soldier at my table got wide-eyed. I could hear it in her voice when she asked, “Oh my God, what do we do?” I simply answered, “I’m going to hide in the bunker, they didn’t give me any bullets yet.” I stayed calm and it had a calming effect on others.

Sometime after moving into Iraq and settling in at our base, I was pulling a shift at the Community House, a place for Service Members and civilians at the base to hang out, watch movies, read, or do whatever they wanted to do to relax. We had a camcorder set up for people to make videos to send home, most would read a book to their kids and send the DVD to them. At this base, every week, at the same time, they would test the sirens and alarms. If you were new to the base and not paying attention to the voice that followed the alarm, you might find yourself in a state of panic. On this day, there was a guy new to the base sitting in the back room making a video for his kids when the test sirens sounded. I was sitting at the desk out front paying no attention to the test and had even forgotten the guy was back there. He comes flying out of the room, falling all over himself coming around the corner, flailing his weapon, freaking out. “What do we do, where do we go? I gotta go get my helmet and vest!” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud a little. I assured him it was a normal test of the system. I wish I could have seen that video he was making, what his face looked like when the alarm sounded.

It’s easy to panic when something happens that you have no control over. It’s normal to be scared in situations that you think are potentially life threatening; either your life or others. But stay calm. Don’t panic. Be the person that helps someone else get out of the panic. Your attitude and responses to stress can be what makes a difference for the better or makes a situation worse. This lesson goes for most things in life, not just going to war.

Good day and God bless.

Dave

What Motivates You?

What motivates you? I’m sure we could list hundreds of things that motivate us, and over time, depending on an exact moment in our lives, the answer could be anything. Does the motivation come from an outside source or from an inner drive? Certainly it can be either or both. Sometimes an outside source helps us find our inner drive. And this is what happened to my oldest daughter.

I have always been realistic. I don’t give my kids delusions of grandeur after they reach a certain age of maturity. When my daughter was a freshman in high school we talked about college. She’s a very smart young lady and very passionate about things that motivate her. She’s a black belt in Tae Kwan Do; I’ve seen her on the soccer field run over opponents much bigger than her; she was a leader for preschool children at church. But her study skills and effort in her classes were lacking.

One day she asked me about college. I told her that if her study habits didn’t improve she’d be lucky to go to the local community college. I told her she needed to figure something out if she was going to seriously consider college.

Her passion is cooking. By her junior year in high school she was in her third year of culinary arts at the high school. During her junior year she informed me that she wanted to go to Johnson & Wales University, “one of the preeminent culinary universities in the world” according to edinfomatics.com. Further, she informed me she wanted to apply to an early entry program that would allow her to skip her senior year of high school and start college. After researching it I learned that this early entry program only takes about 20 students a year.

I encouraged her to apply. I knew she was capable, but I also knew the odds she was up against. I cautioned her not to get her hopes up too much since it was such a long shot. She applied, went to the interviews at the campus, did some kitchen work there, and nailed it. Every bit of it. She got accepted to the program. Soon after, she asked me if I remembered our conversation concerning college. She asked, “Do you remember saying I’d be lucky to go to community college?” I did. Then she asked with a smile, “What do you think now?” I knew she could do it.

She used my perception of her, which was founded in reality, to motivate herself. She proved me wrong and I could not possibly be happier to have been wrong. I am so proud of her.

So, I ask again, “What motivates you?” Take a look at yourself and find your motivation.

Good day and God bless.

Dave