Going Home

I assume this will be my last post. I only did this blog so my family could track my progress (or lack thereof!). I go home tomorrow. It's surreal. In one sense, this was no big deal. Six weeks out of the Summer compared to the 12-15 months of combat tours our Soldiers have endured puts my menial service in perspective. On the other hand, this was my very first "real" Army experience/training. I've learned so much about the Army, warrior tasks, and myself. In the past six weeks I've pushed my body, mind, and even soul farther than I ever have before. It's hurt. It's felt great. It's been beneficial.

The Chaplain Candidate Program is designed to help young Soldiers discern whether or not the Army is for them. With this mission in mind, Soldiers that decide this is where they should be and Soldiers that decide this is NOT where they're supposed to be are both right. As long as discernment is accomplished, then the mission is successful. For me, I know this is where God has called me. Not all days were rainbow and lollipops; in fact, some days were awful. The Army teaches one to not tolerate weakness in one's self or others. This process is painful. At the same time, God would consistently give me mini-affirmations throughout the day to remind me that this too shall pass and this is where I am to be.

I love the Army. This is not a propaganda attempt, it's the truth. I love the Chaplain Corps. I love being a Soldier. I love being an officer. This job is NOT for everybody and that's fine. For those of us that are called, we'll gladly stand in the breach and defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign, and domestic. To God be the glory.


A final cadence to illustrate my point. Typically sang towards the end of a long run when people are beginning to hurt bad.

"Somebody ain't gonna make it!
A weak heart just can't take it!

Somebody ain't gonna make it!
Their weak little bodies can't take it!

Don't let your dog tags dingle in dirt,
Pick up your dog tags and put 'em in your shirt!"

Endurance Course

This week we ran the endurance course. The course is exactly what the title indicates: a test of your endurance. The course consisted of several obstacles through the rolling SC woods. Crawling, climbing, jumping, and sprinting were some of the actions required. At the end, your squad did a 25 yard low crawl through mud. Hooah!

 3rd Platoon after we dominated the course! We're filthy.

Not a great picture of me, but a picture nonetheless. This was towards the end and we were all gassed.

Pictures

Sorry it's been so long. So busy it's unbelievable. Here are some totally random pictures. Click on the pictures to see a larger view. When they're made smaller you lose some of the detail.

 Class time. I don't really have the best military posture in this pic, but I'm dead tired.

Super important Army meeting stuff.

Part of my 2nd Squad battle buddies. (L to R) LT Graham, LT Combs, LT Kiser, and myself.

Horrifying ladder of death that rewards your willingness to ascend with a terrifying inverted rope slide. Every bit of this scared me. It's approximately 35-40 ft high I'm guessing.

Not my group, but a good picture nonetheless. This was the second scariest thing I had to endure. This is called the "Skyscraper". It's a team event. I think you can see from the picture how it works. You have to make your way to the top by any means necessary. Several scary aspects: the entire tower shakes violently as you move; it's very high; you have to trust your team to pull you up, if they fail, you fall; lastly, you're basically hanging over the edge on your tows.

"The Weaver". I know this phrase is used so much that it's become cliche, but this literally was the scariest physical thing I've ever done. This tower, which shakes as you climb it, is approximately 40 feet straight up. You ascend, cross over the top rung, and then descend. The wood is intentionally unevenly spaced so that you must use different methods to ascend and descend. Some rungs you can simply step up on like a ladder, others require you to literally hang while maneuvering your legs in weird ways to get up/down. I was shaking when I was done. 

Not me, but gives a demonstration of the hell I had to endure. What you can't see from the picture is that your weight carries you down quickly so your arms are exhausted at the end. It's all you can do to hold the rope. Also, notice the platform you begin on in the back of the picture. When you slide off backwards, your body endures a sharp and fast drop. You think you're going to fall to the earth upside down.

Our respective class and platoon guidons.

My battle buddy and good friend LT Brown. He's been fantastic about squaring me away and showing me around Columbia.

Morning formation.

Graduation

We "graduated" today. Sort of. The IMT (Initial Military Training) phase of our course is complete. This phase's focus was on basic soldiering skills that every soldier needs to have regardless of MOS. They take what Basic Combat Training soldiers learn in 9 weeks and force it down our throats in 4 weeks. And trust me, we get it all (and more) with the exception of weapon training. In the past 4 weeks we've been taught:

• Day and night land navigation.
• Movement under fire.
• Combat first aid including combat casualty assessment.
• Tactical radio communications.
• Personnel recovery (what to do if you're captured).
• Drill and ceremony.
• JAG and EO briefings.
• DADT repeal briefings.
• Mobilization briefing (the ins-and-outs of being deployed)
• Team development course.
• Sexual assault and drug abuse briefings.
• CBRN (Chemical, Biological, Radioactive, and Nuclear) training...aka the gas chamber.
• How to handle our Secret clearance and classified materials (all officers have Secret clearance)
• TONS of ethical training.
• Overview of important Army documents.
• Constitutional and legal basis for the Army chaplaincy.
• Master Resiliency Training
• Much, much, much, more.

The cadre at this school are top-notch. There's no way we should have been able to cover so much material in such little time so effectively...but we did. One of the key tenets of this portion of the training that I will always take with me is that officers really are held to a higher standard. It's unreal, sometimes, the standard to which we're held. It can even seem unfair. But we make decisions that directly affect the lives of soldiers and we must be of the highest moral integrity and competency. So, while this feels good, there's still more work to do. Tonight we'll drink and be merry because we go back to work  Monday. Evil doesn't sleep and neither do we. Hooah.

Fear

Fear can cripple or empower you. We've had a "depressing week" this week in class. We've covered topics such as PTSD, divorce, family relations, suicide, drug abuse, and other harmful and detrimental things our soldiers endure. It scares you. In one sense, I'm happy with my call, my marriage, and where I am in life at this moment. I've wanted to be in the Army since I can remember...literally. Like most things, I've found the Army to be way better and way worse than I had ever imagined. I go home some days feeling as fulfilled as a human can and other days I go home wondering why I'm here.

This week has caused me to ruminate heavily upon my call. What will a military life look like for me? My family? My marriage? Will my wife resent me for being gone? Will my kids? Are we, as a family, prepared to "always place the mission first" as the Soldier's Creed demands? I've never had questions like this until I actually started training. Reality can be horrifying. Many chaplains, yes chaplains, have endured divorces, substance abuse, and even committed suicide over the occupational stress. Take the already over-stressed work of a pastor and tack on the stress of a military career (long deployments, uncertainty about future, the very real possibility of combat death, etc.).

Today, however, I had an epiphany. I had this same sort of epiphany when I started seminary. Satan is a liar and a coward. One of his best techniques is to place doubt or guilt in your mind. "You're a bad husband for being in the military." "Your wife isn't going to put up with this forever." And, "You're not qualified for this. If you were, you wouldn't be having doubts!" These are all lies and in my heart, I know that. The key is convincing your mind. Fear is natural. I don't know where my future will take me. I feel called to Active Duty but there are practically no slots. Will I get an Airborne slot? Will the Army EVER find me a unit to drill with? Real courage isn't the absence of fear, it's the mastery of it. If I know my wife and I have done all we possibly can to prepare ourselves and our children for the rigors and joys of the military, then what more can we do but leave the details to God?

Me, my lady, and kids, always kids. 

Can You Find Waldo?

The Field

Sorry it's been so long since I posted, we've been incredibly busy. We spent two days in the field doing a variety of tasks.

Day 1
We did day and night land navigation. We were dropped in the woods with a compass, topographical map, and grid coordinates. Our mission was to find 3 markers. It took us about 1.5 hours but we found each one. Our reward when we returned to the base camp was MRE's (Meals Refused by Ethiopians). They had me constipated for two days. During the afternoon we practiced our warrior tasks that we were to be tested on the next day. Warrior tasks are basic soldiering skills (reading a compass, shooting an azimuth, combat first aid and casualty assesment, and tactical radio operations.) That night, we repeatred the navigation exercise in a different zone in complete darkness. I'm amazed at what I've learned in only three weeks. The average civilian could not navigate the land like I can now. It's amazing.

Day 2
We began with CNN filming us doing movement under fire exercises. With our chaplain assistant helping us, we had to move, crawl, sprint, and dive to different locations while simulated grenades went off about 20 yards away from us (they were incredibly loud and concussive). We were then tested over our warrior tasks (I passed them all because I'm a super soldier). ;) Then we came to the part of my training I've been dying for:   night infiltration course. We were marched to a deep ditch lined with concrete. We leaned against the incline of the ditch and waited for the word. When told to go we climbed over the ditch and was met by live Ma Deuce (M2 .50cal) live rounds firing over our head. We had to crawl for 80 yards around and under barbed wire and other obstacles. I was gassed at the end.

I'm learning that this training is really about making you into a responsible, thoughtful, and initiative-taking adult. The physical side is hard, but it's the mental and emotional that truly stretches you. This is amazing training. I've already changed quite a bit, can't wait to see what the rest holds in store.

 Early morning chow. When eating in the field, the hood of a humvee makes a great table.

 Soft shell.

 Might as well have been rectal plugs.

 Dress right and cover down...even your gear.

Catching some shut-eye after day land nav. We got back quick so we were waiting on the other squads.

More Pics

We have a class photographer that's always scurrying around snapping photos. Here are two from the day we were issued our TA-50 gear. Your TA-50 is your "battle rattle". Part of that issues is the gas mask.

Receiving instructions about sealing the mask.

Trying it on. You want a good fit for obvious reasons. CS gas is awful.

Chapel 2 and 3

Finished up two more chapel services. The first one was a highly liturgical service which was closer to my tradition with some noticeable differences. For instance, they used wine in communion, drank from a single cup, knelt in the pews, burned incense, etc. None of these facets of their service gave me any problems, it was just different. Again, like last week, overly simple message: go be a good Christian (whatever that means). A vanilla sermon.

The second chapel I went to was an African-American service. Very lively, very different than what I'm used to. People yelling, dancing, shouting, running, etc. My tradition is much more structured (I'm not saying one is right or wrong, they're just different). The service was to last 2.5 hours! I didn't stay that long. 45 minutes in and they were still doing announcements (no exaggeration). What I heard of the message was actually pretty good. The woman was speaking on the need to step out in faith when you've been called and embrace that fact that God just isn't going to reveal the whole plan to you in fell swoop. However, there were a lot of "God will get you through anything if you plant the seed" moments sprinkled through the sermon.

I'm trying to remain positive, but I'm spiritually on 'E' at the moment. I'm used to an academic environment with world-class speakers that challenge your mind as much as your soul and don't delve into the cheap, "God is my buddy and wants me to be happy", bit. Am I being too critical? Perhaps. But it seems to me that these homileticians are afraid to give these soldiers real meat because they're afraid they won't "get it". Perhaps we've forgotten that God's word is powerful and can cut through all barriers. These men and women are preparing for a protracted two-front war, we'd better be giving them meat and not milk. Just my thoughts. Once my observations are complete, I'll likely try to find a civilian church to attend off-post.

Wes and Patience

I remember how changed my brother was upon his return from basic training. There were the usual things you'd expect: more disciplined, more mature, very focused, etc. But I was shocked to see how patient he had become.   Driving home late one night after a concert, the gas gauge hit 'E' when we were 30 miles from home with no gas station near us. I had to preach the next morning so I was 'freaking out' a bit about the situation. I didn't like the thought of spending the night on the side of the road in the January air. My brother, on the other hand, was completely calm, even jovial. He began to blast the heat and speed up. I inquired as to why he was acting like an idiot. His response was classic Wes, "Dude, if I'm about to sleep in this car, I want to coast as far as I can and I want this thing to be warm!" We ended up making it home miraculously. Honestly, there is no way in hell that car should have made it home. Wes and I refer to this incident as "The Night of the Fuel Gauge".

I'm learning now why Wes is the way he is. Part of it is his personality. Outside of my wife, Wes is my best friend in the entire world. I'd leave today and bankrupt myself if I knew he needed help and I could get there. As you grow up, you learn to love your siblings and cherish them. This just comes with maturity. But you also learn to admire your siblings, even those that are younger than you. Wes is a calm dude, not much affects him. There's a saying in the Army, "Embrace the suck." It means what it says. When things suck, just embrace it. You're not going anywhere anyway. Wes exemplifies what it means to "Embrace the suck."

As the S5 (Civilian-Military Affairs) for my platoon, it's my job to plan things for the platoon to foster esprit de corps. In a real unit, the S5 acts as a liaison between the military and civilian world. However, for school purposes, our platoon S5's are basically party planners (very prestigious). I received permission through the chain of command to use a certain room to hold a movie night for my platoon. Our morale is low, we needed this. After spending the entire week taking care of logistics, I was told today by the cadre, that I in fact did not have permission to use the facilities. I was livid. This project has taken my whole week and now I'm told on the day of the movie that I can't do it. I've been upset all day, until I talked to Wes.

Wes is in Iraq, that's all I'll say for opsec reasons. Hearing Wes talk about Iraq, op-tempo, morale, etc. made me realize how ridiculous and whiny I was being. The Army does not tolerate self-pity in any form. If you want to whine, do it behind closed doors. And yet, I was doing just that: wallowing in my own self-pity. Sometimes we just have to embrace the suck. Stuff goes wrong and plans get ruined. We could all learn to be like my brother and embrace the suck. So the next time life throws you a FUBAR, put the pedal to the metal, blast the heat, and smile. After all, if you're going to be here, you might as well be comfortable.

Wes after his BCT graduation at Fort Benning. He was a fuzzy at the time (PV1). We're proud of him. He's much more squared away than I, but don't tell him I said that.

Gas! Gas! Gas!

Gas chamber. Sucks. Hurts. Burns. Can you see me in the photo?

By the way, all of our cadre, both officers and NCO's, voluntarily went through the chamber and cleared their mask. One team, one fight.