Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Fade to Black

I recently saw this poster from WWII of a paratrooper jumping into combat and slumping over just as he hit the ground. The caption on the poster reads, “CARELESS TALK ... got there first”. The implication is that what someone may have casually said cost that soldier his life.

We are a nation at war. Our enemy is both tenacious and intelligent. He will do whatever he can to defeat us and will exploit every possible bit of information to inflict damage on the US and our allies. Even the most seemingly innocuous comments can be used by the enemy to harm us or our interests. Operational Security continues to be an issue for our Armed Forces. Therefore, it is with a heavy heart that I must back away from the blogging community for an indefinite period, perhaps permanently. It would be easy to point a finger and blame someone or something but I won’t do that. It would also be easy to kick and scream about my rights or my desires, but that would be inappropriate. I love my soldiers and want to do what is best for them; even if it means not doing something that I love, like writing.

That said, thank you all for words of kindness and encouragement. I pray that I have been able to shed some light on the everyday events that our men and women overseas deal with. I pray that I have been able to offer insight into the struggles and triumphs that they experience. But mostly, I pray that I have been an asset to the Kingdom of Jesus Christ; an ambassador worthy of being used in the capacity to which He called me. I am grateful to have had this opportunity and hold no bitterness or angst at having to put my writing on hold. What I do, I do willingly out of respect for our leaders and love for our soldiers.

May God’s best be yours.

Training for Eternity

Chaplain (Captain) Brad P. Lewis

Tuesday, November 01, 2005


In my previous post I briefly mentioned a solider that was killed while attempting to help his wounded squad leader out of a house they were assaulting. Last night we conducted a memorial ceremony. That part of being a chaplain is very difficult and yet very fulfilling.

The death of a soldier can be both demoralizing and motivating to friends and warriors who survive an encounter with a deadly and determined enemy. Surviving soldiers often feel guilt and rage and want little more than revenge. It is an incredible honor to be able to speak to the comrades of the fallen and offer them hope and help them refocus on the mission at hand as opposed to the desire for vengeance. Last night I was afforded that honor.

The thing that makes the military memorial ceremony so memorable is when you see young men, warriors, with arms capable of lifting a small car and legs that could carry that car for several miles, weeping for the love of a lost friend. Such open displays of emotion and fraternal love are practically non-existent outside this context. These are real men with real hearts and real spirits who really mourn their real friends. But the tears are only half the story. The deliberate movements, the practiced words, the rock solid stare of a man at attention, are indicators, pointers if you will, to the deep respect and devotion these men have for one another.

As usual, the ceremony concludes with the playing of taps, the folding of the flag, and the silent dismissal of the troops in formation. As the men move out, back to their places of duty, back to the fighting, many will stop by the memorial stand, snap to attention, and render one final salute to their brother in arms. If you can watch that and not approach emotional meltdown, then you have no soul.