I enjoyed a trip to another part of this barren country recently using a number of modes of transportation, including my first time traveling by helicopter. I was able to visit several of my soldiers in a remote post, and the reunion was warm and joyous.
It's funny how often the enduring highlight of a given event is not what you anticipated it to be. I loved traveling across the country and the new experiences, and I loved seeing these soldiers again. But it was folks who would've otherwise remained on the periphery who came into sharp focus.
The Air Force officer who coordinated our trip told me how excited he was when he found out a chaplain was coming. He was a Mormon who converted to Christianity and was having a hard time finding a Christian fellowship at his post. We talked a lot about how he came to saving faith in Jesus Christ, and his rejection of the heresies and self-salvation of Mormonism. It is always interesting to track the thoughts/feelings of someone who has been so graciously delivered from the bondage of deceit.
Perhaps my best time was spent with some soldiers from Task Force Guam. The dynamics of this group are fascinating. Virtually the whole National Guard from that territory is deployed over here, and as they reside on a small island, most everyone in the unit is connected to each other. Lifelong friends, fathers and sons or daughters, uncles and nephews, cousins, brothers, and even spouses--all of these combinations can be found within their ranks. Combine that with a natural cultural bond and penchant for hospitality, and you have a unit that is incredibly tight--though they're also spread across the country.
They lost two of their soldiers about two months ago, along with four military civilians, to a VBIED (vehicle-based IED). It was the last significant attack on US soldiers in this area.
I talked with one of their officers on this trip. He grew up on the same street with one of the fallen soldiers. As can be expected, some of the TF Guam soldiers were related to these soldiers. They all took the losses hard, but have pressed on.
These dear soldiers do a lot of our protective work out here and are more exposed than a lot of others. Some of their soldiers helped move us out of this area, and when we arrived at our other destination, some of their soldiers were there to help us move in. When we came back, our original soldiers were waiting for us.
Many of them share fun nicknames (since their last names are sometimes hard to pronounce). They often cook in their rooms in nostalgia at the great hospitality culture that they left behind. They tend to share a sharp and engaging sense of humor. (Several of them also shared their pizza with me!) Though they're young, most all of them are also married and have kids. One of them just had a baby boy the other day.
Please remember these precious soldiers in your prayers. They are not nameless faces or faceless names, just like the soldiers under my immediate purview. They are sacrifical, young, family men who have traded their island fiestas for desert convoys. We owe a debt of gratitude to them.
