DIGIJOURNAL 009--21 DEC 2006

DATELINE: 21DEC06 PB PALIWODA

Greetings to All,

I have received many favorable comments from folks who have visited this blogsite. Thank you. But I want everyone to know that it is easy to write about the great people whom I have the privilege of serving. I would like to make a couple of things clear about what this site represents. It is a compilation of my own personal observations about what is going on over here. I stress personal, because if you ever perceive that I am either insensitive or idiotic, please go ahead and assume that it has everything to do with me (good assumption) and nothing to do with the fine character of our soldiers.

Well, I have said my disclaimer, so now let us begin with the updates...

Wait…one more item. Even though we are involved in a very serious business over here in Iraq, I have to add some humor to the environment. There is a saying, “sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying.” My hope is that these words bring a chuckle to the heart that banishes away, at least for a moment, the anxiety and fears of and for your loved ones. Laughter always seems to be a byproduct of hope. May it be so. Peace.

Thoughts for the Week
When I brief the leadership every week, I usually try to include a few thoughts and/or ideas that I have discovered in my weekly prayer and study time. I will start including them here.

"Fanaticism is overcompensation for doubt." --Carl Jung

"In war it is not hard to hate, but hatred is a poison which harms more the one who harbors it than the one against whom it is directed.” --Rev. Robert McLean

Christmas
I want to thank everyone who has made this Christmas special for our soldiers. The response has been overwhelming. Every soldier (700+) was able to receive at least two cards, a stocking, and other small items. The gifts are great, but what means the most to soldiers is the thoughts and prayers behind them. We receive a flood of information over here, almost too much information. Sometimes it may seem like folks have given up on what is going on overseas. However, what we perceive and what is real is often different. What I see, what we see, is that a variety of individuals and organizations across the political, ideological, and religious spectrum have reached out to us. While some may argue over our foreign policy (and, by the way, we are blessed to live in a country where we can debate), there is no arguing about the fact that folks still support us—-the soldiers, airmen, sailors, and marines who are serving downrange. This war has now eclipsed WWII in duration, but it is a powerful witness to the faithfulness of the “common” American men, women, and children who still take and/or make the time to support us. We will never be able to repay you for all you have done for us.

The Big Thing
One of our primary concerns during operations is that we need to keep things quiet from any prospective enemy. Armyspeak for this is called Operational Security, or OPSEC for short. It is important that both our soldiers and our families get repeatedly briefed about how important OPSEC is. As a result, I always refer to big missions (as opposed to small missions, which is as messed up a concept as “minor” surgery) as the “thing,” as in “WH6, can CPL C and I go out to see soldiers on this ‘thing’ we are doing?”

PC (aka CPL Paul ‘I would like to buy a vowel’ Crnkovich, my fearless and trusty chaplain assistant) and I had the opportunity to go out on a thing with members of A, E, and HHC companies. What an interesting time. I have traveled all over Northern Iraq, both last time I was here and this time. The difference this time was that, while previously we had always tried to avoid the enemy, this time we were trying to find him.

Now, before I can claim or anyone gets images of me fearlessly running alongside of infantry dismounts catching shrapnel with my teeth, let me reassure you and my wife that I spent the vast majority of the time safely ensconced in a reinforced, medic-track 113. I say this to highlight the true courage (again, truly amazing) of our soldiers. After leaving early in the morning, when the sun came up I went out to visit the guys and gal who were dismounted guarding our sector. Many of you have images of the sweltering heat and wilting humidity of Iraq, and those days are coming, but it actually gets cold here. In fact, PC allegedly spotted a couple of snowflakes this weekend. Our soldiers were outside braving these elements. When I went to talk to them, they were cold but positive. Amazing!!!

They must have been in a good mood because they had to have laughed as I came lumbering over to them. I wish I could describe myself as the Brad Pitt/George Clooney-looking chaplain who lithely slips across the battlefield, leaping over broken buildings and t-walls with ease. The truth is that I am a big, doughy white guy who looks like a brontosaurus competing, poorly, in an obstacle course as I run over to these twenty-something soldiers. It drives PC nuts. He is that graceful guy who has to protect the lumbering brontosaurus. With creaking knees and jacked up spine I knelt down, slowly, to talk to these great people. After visiting with them, I jogged, again slowly, over to the First Sergeant (1SG) to see how he was doing. He nervously looked around, dropped the back ramp, said hello, and then told me to get back in the medic track, which leads into the next issue.

Apparently, it is bad luck to get your chaplain hurt in battle. Now, as my wife’s favorite husband, I like that sentiment, but I wonder how it sounds to you the reader, especially if your husband/son/daughter/etc. is not the chaplain. What makes me special? Nothing. The plain fact is that the chaplain is like the rabbit’s foot or mascot for the unit; and, like a rabbit’s foot or mascot, a lost or stolen chaplain is usually bad (depending on what you think of the chaplain). As our soldiers are scanning for snipers, I get the vibe that they are not usually in the mood to discuss the finer points of predestination and Calvinistic theology, so I do not get into the lack of uniqueness of their chaplain. I want you to know that I do appreciate the sentiment of our soldiers to keep me safe.

Well, as the mission reached completion, I am glad to say that the only casualty that we had was my rear-end due to sitting in the back of the 113 for hours. I call this ailment "113-butt." If all the sheep come back to the fold with wet noses and all their fingers and toes still attached and operational, I call the mission a success. Add to this that our soldiers did complete all their objectives, and we have a good day in Warhorseland. I must thank SGT V, the chief medic in A Co., for being such a gracious host as we stayed in his track. I must say that I was a little disappointed in the cabin service. Instead of cocktails and a hot meal served once we reached cruising altitude, all I received was an MRE (meal, ready-to-eat, I love Armyspeak reverse acronyms) and some Gatorade. At least the Gatorade was cold.

Theological Reflection and Incoming Fire
As I was out participating in a very small way in the “Big Thing,” listening to the reports of enemy activity and the sounds of contact (Armyspeak for flying bullets and explosions) thankfully not too near us, I began to do what most soldiers do at time like these—think about God. Whether they are metaphorical or real bullets, it often takes danger to force us to reflect on our finitude (chaplainspeak for death, limits, life, we are not God, etc. ).

I made this observation: how long would we keep a friend around who only came to talk to us when they were in trouble or when they needed something? Probably not for long, but why do we treat God like this? Why do we, or more specifically I, who of all people should know better, only approach God in desperation? Do not get me wrong, God always likes it when we come to Him, but I find that I say “I want, I want, I need, I need” far too often than I say "thank you." It is also frightening to think about what I am teaching to my two sons in how I pray. I guess, like Joseph finding good even when his own brothers intended evil for him, even on the battlefield when you are desperately praying for the safety of the soldiers because you can see their families in their faces, you can discover the Holy Spirit talking to and moving through you.

This evening during worship I mentioned to our soldiers that even God can use this deployment to make us better husbands, fathers, brothers, and sons. It just depends on our vision and the teach-ability of our spirit. This Christmas I am reminded that God did not wait to approach us, did not wait until we were perfect, sinless, and deserving, but He came as a child to the very same part of the world where we are, when it was just as or more dangerous than it is today. He came for us, and we will never be able to thank Him enough.

Gotta Love the Infantry
One of my constant comments is how much in awe I am of our soldiers, and how thankful we should be of how courageous they are. During the “Big Thing,” despite being on one knee in the freezing cold for hours, despite the very real danger they were in, they still managed to laugh and to do their job without complaint. To give you an idea of what it is like to be a dismounted infantryman, artilleryman, tanker, or mechanic, for we are all riflemen now, let me tell you how they sleep. When a 113 personnel carrier is moving over asphalt, the inside sounds like you are riding in a cement mixer full of rocks while listening to a Metallica concert. I think it would be quieter sitting next to a jet engine. However, for the rifleman, it is not too noisy to sleep. As the dismounts ran back to our vehicle, moving more gracefully than their chaplain, they piled in, feigned the respectful interest in my eager questions, but went immediately to sleep as we rolled back to our FOB. Before drifting off to sleep, one of the soldiers commented to a new arrival that “we have to be more than steely-eyed soldiers; we have to win the hearts and minds of the people.” He was stating what the vast majority of soldiers feel in their hearts, despite their bravado, and that is that they still care about the people of this country. While I would never want to be accused of being a sentimental, touchy-feely guy (gag), this is my guess why, when they did eventually drift off to sleep, they looked like angels.

SGT S
I want to brag on the person I like to call our music minister. One of the spiritual gifts I did not receive was the gift of music, or a good voice, or rhythm, or any other vocal or instrumental blessing. Thankfully, SGT S has stepped forward with his guitar and his good voice to be able to lead us during worship. He makes as many services as the mission will allow, oftentimes forgoing sleep or a much needed meal. He is definitely a good and faithful servant of the Lord.

Father K Comes to Paliwoda
The most important thing a chaplain does for the soldiers he serves is to make sure they have access to practice their faith. For Roman Catholics, it is very important that they be able to attend mass, confession, and to receive the Eucharist as often as possible. In my opinion it is even more important for our Roman Catholics in 3-8 because so many of them are out on missions. Unfortunately, the military archdiocese, like many dioceses in the United States, is suffering from a shortage of priests. It is for this reason that our priests can only come to visit us every 3-4 weeks. Last week CH (CPT) Father K was able to come to Paliwoda. Due to emergency leaves and other factors, it had almost been two months since his last visit. He and his assistant flew in to Paliwoda in a very drafty Chinook (big helicopter, two rotors) on a very cold night. As PC and I waded through the darkness to find them, Father K appeared looking very blue and very much in need of heat. It did not help that I was so glad he was there that I hugged him. I am sure, in the words of our Command Sergeant Major, that he thought I had “done lost my mind.” After having him say hello to the Long Man (WH6), CPL C and I dropped him off at the chapel, set the heater on defrost, and let him have some peace for the night. The priests in country often travel hundreds of miles every other week in order to see as many of our soldiers as possible. I am really thankful for their service and faithfulness. Father K has a special heart for soldiers, and Paliwoda always seems a little brighter after he visits. I have also arranged for another priest, CH (1LT) Father B to visit O’Ryan. Please keep them, all our priests, and all our chaplains in your prayers.

A Very Quick Autobio
Some have asked about my background, so here it is.

Born 1969 (yes I am ancient) in Norman, Oklahoma Boomer Sooner

Age 2, moved to Albuquerque, NM, develop salsa addiction

Age 14, enrolled at St. Pius X High School “Pi High,” coached, taught, and mentored by Father Falbo, Father Glass, and soccer coach Joe Badal

Age 17, suffering from temporary brain damage, accepted appointment to the United States Military Academy at West Point

1991, by the grace of God, graduated from Woo Poo U, accepted commission as field artilleryman

1991-1995 stationed at Ft. Stewart, Georgia with the 24th ID

1993 begin to explore my call to ministry while serving on active duty

1994 made the best decision of my life (probably still debatable for H) and married the former Heather Raymond

1995 left active service, transfered to reserves, enrolled at Union Theological Seminary in Richmond, Virginia (chose UTS for the housing, thus continuing my lack of wisdom when it comes to educational priorities)

1995-1999 attended Union, interned at Eastminster Presbyterian in Columbia, SC for one year, worked as a chaplain at a VA Hospital for one summer, served as chaplain for a retirement home in Richmond, and graduated from Union.

1999-2003 pastored First Presbyterian, a small but growing church in St. Croix Falls, WI, just north of the Twin Cities. Also served in the Wisconsin National Guard as a chaplain for a light infantry battalion (God teaching me a lesson since I put infantry last in my branch choice at USMA).

2001 tie for second best thing to happen to me: Joshua, my oldest, was born. Thankfully he looks and acts like his mother.

2003-2006 pastored First Presbyterian, a larger church in Monroe, NC.

2004-2005 called up for OIF II as battalion chaplain in the 1-113th, an FA battalion out of Charlotte, NC. Our brigade was attached to 1ID.

2004 the other event which ties for second best thing to happen to me: second son Nathanael (showing dad’s preference for the Hebrew spelling), born while dad in Iraq. Once again relieved to see he looks and acts like mom.

2005 eight months after returning from OIF II to pastor FPC, Monroe, called up for one month to serve in New Orleans for Hurricane Katrina. Begin to explore a call back on active duty.

30APR06 Preached last sermon at FPC, Monroe.

5JUN06 Signed in to Ft. Hood

As you can see, I could claim my begin date of entering the military was 1987. I try not to, because it is depressing. My assistant reminds me of how old I am every day (he was born when I was a junior in high school). He always maxes the APFT because of all the pushups I make him do.

We Miss You…If You Are Not a Wife Please Skip to Next Section (Especially You, Mom)
As Christmas day approaches, I would like to explain for the wives what most of the husbands are going through over here. Before reading any further, I would like to make a disclaimer. As my wife has reminded me, listening to the chaplain talk about intimacy issues is like listening to your parents. Stunned silence is often followed by nausea. However--and this may shock some people--my wife and I did not find our two boys in baskets drifting down the stream at a church picnic. As guys begin to return home on leave, there is a reason why they are set on microwave and not crockpot. In between the stress and preparation of war, we also have a great deal of time to think. And we are finding ourselves thinking of you, our wives. While you are doing the noble and more challenging job of keeping things going at home (hosing off kids, paying the bills, fixing the car, going to work, sending us packages, etc.), we are literally pining for home. Many of us, especially me, are thinking about all the idiotic things we said and did and all the good things we did not say and we did not do to and for you. When we get home, the greatest gift that a wife and husband can give to each other is themselves—-completely and honestly. I remind the guys here to try to tone it down and relate to their wives emotionally as well as physically. I would like to remind the wives that husbands tend to relate to their wives emotionally by relating to them physically. Well, I am beginning to blush and make myself nauseous, so I will leave the rest of this topic up to your imagination.

D Co.
I would like to let the folks who have loved ones in D Co. that I am trying to get out to visit them as soon as I can. They are in a location that is hard for me to catch a ride to, and they are with a unit that has a chaplain that is covering down on them. I do, however, want to see them. I know and hear that they are doing great things. And while I am not there in body, I am definitely there in spirit. They are in my daily prayers.

Armyspeak Word for the Week
BYOP (pronounced bye-op, op sounding like stop): short for Believe Your Own Pub. BYOP is another way to say prideful, sinfully prideful, as in “When the elite unit began to suffer from BYOP, they began to alienate all the other units around them.” This concept is closely related to “Institutional Arrogance.” See Enron.

Enough of my yammering. A big thank you to all who visit this site. I am trying to keep it fresh. Every day our guys continue to show why they are not only the best soldiers in the world but also the best people, and they would not be who they are without your love, support, prayers, and gratitude.

Gratia et Veritas
Warhorse Archangel