Power in Presence

 I was asked by another Veteran to write down a story from my term in service for a book she is writing. There are many, this is one.

Leaving to go back was the worst. It was the fastest two weeks I had ever experienced in my life. Two amazing weeks, sharing cups of coffee each morning with my wife, laughing with my precocious daughter, deer hunting with my son, and Thanksgiving with all our extended family and it simply came to an end. What was waiting on the other side was not something I prepared for or even considered.

 

My time on R and R came to an end. I had been in Iraq for 6 months and was staring down another 6. The days flew by and they dragged by, time was somehow bent. But there it was, another airplane waiting to take me away from my family, again. It's something we get used to in an Army at war, the continual separation and reunion. It can get pretty exhausting. But there it was, the plane. I boarded and set my mind on what was next, back to the desert and taking care of soldiers as a chaplain. I did my best to not dwell on what was left but to mentally keep myself on track, knowing, hoping I’d be back at this gate in half a year

 

After 30 hours of travel, through several bases, naps on concrete floors, and lots of coffee, I made it back to my forward operating base. I reconnected with my team and it was oddly comforting to be back with them. All I really wanted to do was get some sleep, so I headed back to my hooch and laid down for some much-needed rest. About 10 minutes after closing my eyes, a knock came at my door. It was a frantic knock. A voice called out and said “Chaplain, they need you at the CSH (Combat Surgical Hospital). I was not assigned to that unit but had been covering down on them when their chaplain had to move around, and he had to move a lot.

 

I jumped in our little beater pickup truck and headed for the hospital. I had no idea what had happened, but I knew it wasn’t good. What I found was not good. There were ground-based medevac and in-bound air medevac helos. It was chaos with soldiers carrying litters off vehicles and off choppers. There was a lot of yelling and direction being given. As I began to mentally assess the situation I noticed that all of the casualties were civilians. I grabbed an NCO and asked what was going on. He told me that a suicide bomber had blown himself up in the market. That market was filled with families, just shopping for their daily needs.

 

There were no US personnel injured, only civilian men, women, and yes….children. Young children. I think there were 2 dozen casualties from the incident. There were life-saving measures going on all around me. Highly skilled doctors and nurses who I considered friends were working on these folks as if they were their own family members. And there was blood. I was reminded of how savage humans can be and my heart was breaking. I was also feeling pretty useless. I’m not trained in emergency medicine. I had no idea how to do what my fellow service members were doing. I just felt like I was in the way, taking up good air.

 

So I just did what I knew how to do. I walked around offering encouraging words to the staff. I prayed for them in my head and heart. I put my hands on their backs and said, “You’re doing great, can I do anything to help?” One really young nurse took me up on that offer. She said “Yes chaplain, would you sit with that little boy over there on that bed, the one with the head injury” Of course I said yes. When I got over there I realized he had a shrapnel wound in the back right side of his head. The nurse told me he was going to be OK, but his dad in the bed next to him was in critical condition. He was intubated and suffering from multiple injuries. It didn’t look good to me.

 

The little boy looked so scared. He was also about the same age as my own son back home. What had his little eyes seen that day? What had his little eyes seen as he grew up in a war? He didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak Arabic. The only thing I knew to do was hold his hand and speak words of peace over him from my Scriptures. I felt very helpless. The whole time there was a team of experts working frantically on his dad. And after some time, I realized they had stabilized him and then in an instant, some folks came in and wheeled that man and that little boy out and put them on a Blackhawk, and off into the night they went.

 

It went on like that for what felt like days, but it was probably about 4 hours. Then, everything was quiet. Not one of those patients died. Everyone did their job so very well. But, I still felt useless. I just sat there for a few minutes looking around at all these amazing people. Then I looked at the concrete floor and saw some spots of blood from that little boy's daddy still there. I looked at it and thought to myself, now there’s something I can do. I can clean that up. So I got down on my knees with some rags and disinfectant and began wiping up the blood. I also noticed blood on my boots. So, I cleaned them off as well.

 

I just sat there on my knees and just then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see a young female nurse looking down at me. She said this, “Chaplain, we were all talking over there and we wanted you to know how grateful we are that you were with us tonight”

 

I said back to her, “Are you kidding, I was just in the way. I had no idea what to do”

Then she said softly, “You reminded us all that there is a God and that He was with us and all our patients tonight, so thank you for being here”

 

I’ve tried for over a decade to process this story out in my head and I’ve yet to completely understand it, but I do know this, God will take our inadequacy and make something significant. There is power in presence. So I’ve come to understand that being fully present with others is one of the greatest gifts that can be given, even if you have no idea what you are doing.

 

And, yes, I did make it back home on another plane and continue to be present with my wife over morning coffee.