Passing on the Torch of Compassion

We can only hope to give the best care possible to our heroes and heroines.

When medicine has gone to its limits

Or sometimes even beyond

In the compassionate care of the providers

It is then that the

Spiritual dimension of the human person

Shifts into high gear

It was already there, this spiritual dimension

Even in her denial

But at the moment of pain that escapes

the morphine

and encouraging words

and even tears of the soul…

that is when your RMT

Religious Ministry Team

facilitates the

Faith or lack thereof…

Within the indomitable

mysterious

wholly incredible

person

human being

and spirit

To save

That source and summit

Beyond death

And yet below, that is attainable

As I have witnessed

And borne with gratitude and trepidation

When a son or daughter of our nation is close to breathing no more,

Or even after the breath has been stolen away,

It is then that we ask their final wish and receive

their final statement

In the timeless moment before departure

stripped of all earthly desire…

life runs dry.

A chaplain records and witnesses this miracle of death

And the RMT can teach the Medical Team to provide likewise.

Let us journey with great love, hope, and humility.

Let us celebrate the hours and days and minutes

that will transform and transfigure

our wounded, dead, and their families forever!

AMEN.

We can only imagine what our kind acts, our compassion, our love, and our skills will create in eternity.

We can only imagine.

Chaplain Ron Moses Camarda +

Camp Fallujah, Iraq

February 24, 2005

Tear in the Desert

Last night I watched in great horror and disbelief when our president evoked a standing ovation for the widow of a Navy Seal who was killed in an operation that was deeply flawed. It didn’t seem like it was done out of compassion, but to make him look like he is doing a great job as our president. Most notable is that the father of that sailor is estranged from the president who hasn’t shown any respect for the loss of his son. The father held that Navy Seal when he was a baby. He was proud of him. He is probably mourning the many civilians and children who were also killed in that raid. Our safety as a nation can’t be bought with the deaths of millions of displaced people. People who make arms and weapons profited from that fiasco. Where are the prophets?

Where are the chaplains and commanding officers who know this is not the way to go? When I was in Iraq, I knew that my most difficult task would be to comfort the families and friends of those who died in my arms or whose bodies I received from the battlefield. As a priest, there are times when I need to be quiet while those mourning the death of their loved ones pounded my chest. That is the Cross and that is the fast that God requires or desires. To feel hopeless at such loss.

I do pray for President Donald Trump, but I still believe that Jesus is trying to break through his stony heart. I am trying not to judge, but Jesus does give me permission to observe the fruit. “You will know them by their fruit.” So when I think of our leaders of our country (including the media, congress, lobbyists and military industrial complex), I see people trying to profit at the expense of bearing the fruit of love, joy and peace.

Think of anyone you are supporting and see whether they have any of these fruits of the Holy Spirit…

LOVE

JOY

PEACE

PATIENCE

KINDNESS

GENTLENESS

GENEROSITY

SELF-CONTROL

PURITY

FAITHFULNESS

These are more important than the Ten Commandments, because this fruit is what rules and laws are aiming for. This is what decreases the need for government; when people love one another. I have a long way to go, but at least I believe I am bearing some of this fruit.

For Ash Wednesday and Lent, I speaking out against hate that is often masked behind self-righteousness and hypocrisy. Of course, I am beginning with myself. It is not easy, but the peace, love and joy that rises in my heart is worth the fasting and sacrifice.

Love, joy, peace,

Ron Moses +

We are Called to…

Care Packages to Share

The fruit of silence is prayer

the fruit of prayer is faith

the fruit of faith is love

the fruit of love is service

the fruit of service is peace…

I prayed this prayer of Mother Teresa many times as the soldier, marine or sailor died.

 

Love your enemies?

“But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your heavenly Father, for he makes his sun rise on the bad and the good, and causes rain to fall on the just and the unjust.” Jesus (Gospel St. Matthew 5:38-48)

As we have journeyed through the Sermon on the Mount these few weeks, we could conclude that Jesus is very demanding. Today, we are encouraged not to be driven by fear but to love our enemies and build friendships and trust. But we are challenged to ask our self what we stand for as Christians.

A child returned from Sunday school and told his parents that the teacher said we must love our neighbors and even our enemies. So, he said, “I love all the dragons and monsters.” His dad said, “Just start by loving your sister.”

On June 17, 2015, nine members of Emmanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina were shot to death in the basement of their church. The shooter, a self-proclaimed white supremacist, wandered into the room wearing jeans and a sweatshirt; and instead of telling him to leave they invited him to join them. There they were in prayer and study, and as they bowed their heads in prayer, he shot them. Can you imagine the anguish the families of those nine good people felt? I cannot. And that is what makes the rest of this so stunning. Only three days later, when invited to share a statement as the shooter was arraigned in court, several of the family members turned to the shooter and through their tears, said, “I forgive you.”

Today’s readings come right into our hearts and invite us to do some “house cleaning.” There’s a lot of attack and counter attack in our lives today, and here we are being told to hold no grudges, seek no revenge, and let go and let God. When we pray for someone who has hurt us, the gift is to ourselves. When Jesus rose from the dead and entered the room of the disciples where the door was locked, he simply said: “Peace be with you.” And he showed them his hands and his side. At the sight of the Lord, the disciples rejoiced? He said it again. “Peace be with you.” And then he breathed on them. “Receive the Holy Spirit… If you forgive each other’s sins they are forgiven. But if you hold them bound, they will hold you bound.” Jesus knew that the most powerful weapon in the world, if not the universe, is simply love and mercy.

As a priest over the years, I have received many broken souls who come in to confess their anger toward someone who has genuinely hurt them. They don’t see how they give control to their persecutor. I simply ask them, “Have you prayed for this person? Do you love this person unconditionally like God loves them?” You would be surprised how often the answer is, “No.” Jesus only gives us commandments that will help us. But all commandments must eventually be done out of love rather than rules or obedience.

St. Paul tells us: Bless your persecutors; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Have the same attitude toward all. Put away ambitious thoughts and associate with those who are lowly. This could restore peace and joy and gentleness in our lives.

Father Jeff bought this poster you see on the video boards at the Holocaust museum. We reflect on what we stand for as we celebrate our thirty years as a parish.

What do we stand for? We as a community hope to integrate what we stand for in our vision. We are cultivating and fertilizing our community organically with:

Courage, friendship, wisdom, justice, faithfulness, honesty, tolerance, imagination, equality, fairness, citizenship, self-discipline, integrity, responsibility, creativity, assertiveness, caring, confidence, honor, empathy, accountability, respect, kindness, restraint, conservation, purpose, sincerity, sharing, loyalty, forgiveness, truthfulness, loyalty, cooperation, giving compassion, humor…

Queen of Peace is celebrating 30 years and will have a round-table discussion this Wednesday to look at where the community wants to stand for in the next five years and beyond.

Anchor

Yes!

Preparing for Mass

Father Rene (top photo first from the right) was murdered less than a year after my 25th, and we are devastated, but we forgive the person as Jesus teaches us.

Tear in My Soul…still!

After reading the first draft of the screenplay for A Tear in the Desert, I was moved, but something didn’t sit right with the ending. In truth, I did meet with April, the woman who gave birth at the moment her husband passed away when I breathed the last word of Mother Teresa’s prayer.

The fruit of silence is prayer

The fruit of prayer is faith

The fruit of faith is love

The fruit of love is service

The fruit of service is peace.

The almost miraculous birth of Shane Jr. is amazing and fascinating to millions…but there was something much more profound to April and Shane. April had been writing little notes to Shane on Myspace.com for over two years after his funeral. Anniversaries of certain dates were particularly difficult. I, the chaplain priest was simply the messenger. Shane called for help for his beloved wife who would become a widow and mother instantaneously…the death and the birth.

At the funeral

Recently I was almost miraculously transported to the small aircraft that carried the body of a young 19-year-old Marine. His family and wife of seven months stood a few yards away, including his grandparents.

There was no doubt that his dead body was in the silver casket partially draped with a U.S. flag. The dog tag dangled as the casket was lowered before me. As I stood on the tarmac with the family just a few yards away from me…I saluted in my summer whites that were slightly tight (I am a retired reserve officer and 50 years old). It was a bright sunny day on NAS JAX (Naval Air Station Jacksonville) with thousands of people and military holding their breath.

Time truly stopped in the literary sense.

Philip’s widow approached with his parents and family.

I wanted to escape and run away back to the desert. My entire tour in Fallujah was crushing and burying my soul at that moment, but I was frozen in my uniform caught between the ultimate death and life. It has been said that when people are in an intense firefight or 9-11 experience, they do one of the following: fight, flee, freeze, feed or make love. Most of us will not know how we will respond until we are actually in it. Those that fight end up getting a medal, killed in action, or both. Some who survive physically tend to die because they didn’t do enough to save their fellow soldier, sailor, or Marine. The truth might be that in the intensity of the battle we don’t think about it, we simply instinctively do what it takes to just try to stay alive or sacrifice our own life for our friends, partner or children.

A medal that says we were heroes or heroines in battle does not soothe the wounds of helplessly witnessing violent death, even of our enemies. The military puts a heavy significance on medals, but a study of the recipients might unveil the truth. I am convinced that the true heroes and heroines are the mothers, fathers, siblings, spouses and children of the wounded and dead troops, but they would be revolted at the thought of presenting them with a medal for their sacrifice.

As the petite and beautiful teenager approached her husband’s casket in the year of her dreams of a family and choices of the infinite possibilities that the fountain of youth inspires, she simply placed her face that was flooded with tears, upon the cold and exposed metal casket that beaded with the holy water that I had just blessed it with. Human beings are composed of over 97% water. The tears of this very young woman seemed to meld with the water on the casket. Time stopped. Jacksonville and all North Florida seemed to stop and gasp.

Silence.

Commanders, Marines, sailors, mayors, veterans, fathers, mothers, friends, firefighters, high school classmates, and an entire city stopped, paused and silently wept for this very long couple of minutes.

It was as if I could literally hear her tears splashing onto the casket and boring a hole through the tabernacle that once contained the tabernacle of Philip’s body. This reminded me of the woman who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears on the night before he succumbed to a gruesome and torturous death. Can you hear the tears coursing down her face and crashing onto the feet of Jesus? The woman and the widow’s tears washed over her beloved’s feet…such intimate, sensuous love.

We all watched in paralyzing wonder and fear. Our hearts were torn asunder. All was done for love. In that moment, we saw the vision that war and hate were crushed and defeated. With tender kisses and a tear in the soul and heart… the widow’s tears melded with the soul of Philip.

“Do not be afraid.”

Jesus said it to the woman. She will be remembered for this act of kindness and love.

Now I don’t know exactly how April Kielion experienced the body of her husband for the first time after his death in Iraq back in November of 2004. However she has clearly stated that she was in denial and expected him to return home. She wasn’t convinced that it was truly her husband in the casket because she only saw his face. When the body of a Fallen Marine arrives at the funeral home for the family’s viewing, he is wrapped in the burial cloths of a formal uniform. Usually even the hands are in white gloves. Medals are meticulously placed; wonderful words of his personality and life are shared.

Philip was a man with gifts and flaws.

Shane was a man with gifts and flaws.

Both of them were and are still loved. They were sinners like you and me. They were sinners and beloved. They died too, too young.

When S.E. Kielion (Shane) was before me moments before he died… he looked like Jesus on the cross. The wounded are stripped when they come to Bravo Surgical so that we can check for all pertinent wounds and so we don’t miss anything. It seemed that Shane was vulnerably stripped and beside Jesus on the cross.

I can still see the vivid image of the Guardian angels tattooed on his chest as only a reflection of the truth of my belief. My own guardian “angel” whom I call Patrick Moses guided me to this moment with his other friend angels. The open bible on S.E.’s right side was the Open Door that St. John spoke of in the book of the “Apocalypse (Revelation).”

The scroll was sweet like honey in the mouth…

and sour and bitter in the stomach.

That day was a vision and a warning.

On the left side of his body under his arm was the third tattoo.

Like St. John, I was at the foot of the cross with the mother of Jesus, Mary and the beloved Mary Magdalene. Many won’t believe my story. Many still don’t believe the women who reported the events of the empty tomb. The angel told them:

“Don’t be amazed. I know that you are seeking Jesus of Nazareth who was crucified. He is not here. He has been raised just as he said. Come see the place where he was laid. Then go and tell the disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee. There you will see him.”

With that the women left the tomb and trembling and fear overtook them and they fled. And they didn’t tell anyone because they were afraid.

(Original ending of St. Mark’s Gospel)

Eventually the women had to tell the disciples even if the men wouldn’t believe them. How else would we know this story?

THE TEAR IN THE STORY

And now I am ready to tell this part of the story that began on November 15, 2004 and peaked on April of 2007 in a hotel lobby in Omaha, Nebraska. I have no choice.

“He’s alive!” as my friend Father Jeff said at the funeral Mass of Philip.

Shane is alive!

In Omaha…29 months after Shane died, I met April Kielion in that hotel lobby. I also met the living S. E. Kielion…Senior…Marine!

Just as I had anointed Shane moments before he died in Iraq, I anointed April in the hotel lobby. Shane was showing off his wife and the mother of his son. Words are inadequate to express the inexpressible and ghostly. Before I could hand over my tattered green notebook to April—Shane seemed to look into my soul and ask if he could be the one to share my tattered green notebook with his beloved wife. I sat in awe and disbelief as the two of them held my scribbled written words. The original version of the story in my journal is almost identical to the edited version in my book Tear in the Desert.

(April and I calculated that with the time zone difference, Shane Jr. was born within a half hour of Shane Sr.’s death, if not the same minute.)

April and Shane were alive again. He gently held her, caressed her and kissed her. He comforted her and reassured her. He was no longer just a Marine; he was much, much more.

April knew that this would be the last encounter in this world…and protested…

She looked at me and stated, “He didn’t have three tattoos. He only had two.”

I couldn’t see with my physical eyes, but with the inner eye and ear, I could see and hear Shane insisting he was right there more present than in her dreams. He was firm. He basically said, “April, my beautiful and beloved Baby…I must go. I can only be in your dreams from now on…but I am with you always until the end of time. Don’t be afraid. You need to move on and fall in love again. Trust me. I want you to fall in love and have another child. She will be beautiful…and she will reflect your beautiful soul. I love you April…I always have and in all ways I will.”

Of course I wasn’t able to actually hear these words, for that was a sacred moment, a gift from God. But it was real and it really happened. It is a real love story that seems to travel down the face like a slow and gentle tear. Do you hear it?

April couldn’t speak. Her tears just flowed and mingled with his tears somewhere between heaven and earth.

Tear of love and tear of hope,

a tear of heart and a tear of eternity,

a tear in the desert and tear in my soul…o my!

Philip Paul Clark

Laid to rest

His burial stone rests against the tree.

The tears of his wife Ashton and the holy water remain on the casket under the flag.

Thanks and praise

For our days

Neath the sun, neath the stars, neath the sky

As we go, this we know

God is nigh!

                       Father Ron Moses Camarda +                                          June 2010

Is God calling YOU?

The Woman gets Alone Time with Jesus

5^th Sunday of Lent – March, 2016

Isaiah 43:16-21 ~ “In the desert I make a way,… for I put water in the desert and rivers in the wasteland for my chosen people to drink, the people whom I formed for myself, that they might announce my praise.”

Psalm 126 ~ The Lord has done great things for us; we are filled with joy

Philippians 3:8-14 ~ Brothers and sisters: I consider everything as a loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord and Beloved. For his sake I have accepted the loss of all things and I consider them so much rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him…

John 8:1-11 ~ Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. But early in the morning he arrived again in the temple area, and all the people started coming to him, and he sat down and taught them. Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery and made her stand in the middle. They said to him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. Now in the law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” They said this to test him, so that they could have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and began to write on the ground with his finger. But when they continued asking him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Again he bent down and wrote on the ground.

And in response, they went away one by one, beginning with the elders. So he was left alone with the woman before him. Then Jesus straightened up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She replied, “No one, sir.” Then Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin any more.”

 

If anyone threw a stone in their arrogance, Jesus would protect her.

There is a growing time bomb beneath the soul of human kind.

The last century has been an accumulation of nuclear and hydrogen bombs and weapons. Polarization just like the scribes and Pharisees of Jesus’ time is taking place. Jesus was the scapegoat then, now it is the nasty opinions and anger. Automatic weapons and a plethora of guns keep stockpiling.

This is just like the Israelite community after “escaping” Egypt with Moses and Aaron.

No water.

No food.

A desert.

Grumble…Grumble…Grumble

God is bringing us Home forever.

We complain about the transport!!

We in the United States are

Blessed for no other reason:

IN GOD WE TRUST

Not everyone has to agree with us.

We can still love those with differing opinions…pray for them.

We have unheard of freedoms,

Speech

Religion

Rights

Food (freedom from hunger)

Wealth and safe water

Even crumbling infrastructure that still works

Ability to travel anywhere in the world safely

Citizenship and

Immigrants from every country in the world

The rest of the world is jealous… Can we blame them?

We can wake up in the morning and choose to walk with Jesus,

The creator of the world…

Of what could we be afraid?

Though you are homeless

Though you’re alone

I will bring you home

Home to your own place

In a beautiful land

I will bring you home

 

I will be your home

I will be your home

In this feared and fallen world,

I will be you home.

 

Whatever’s the matter

Whatever’s been done,

I will be your home…

                  (Song composed by Michael Card)

 

For all that happened to the poor woman dragged in front of Jesus,

She gets alone time with Jesus…

Are we jealous of her?

Such intimacy

Such love

Such mercy

She is my nomination for the Supreme Court justice…

Very, very liberal in Mercy!

O to Good News!!!

 

Put out into the deep and trust Jesus!

THEY DON”T HAVE TO GO AWAY…Give them some food yourself!

The Prophet Isaiah: 55:1-3 ~ All you who are thirsty, come to the water! You who have no money, come, receive grain and eat.

Psalm 145: The eyes of all look hopefully to you, and you give them their food in due season

Paul’s letter to the Romans: 8:35-39 ~ What will separate us from the love of Christ?

 The Gospel According to St. Matthew: 14:13-21 ~ Jesus said to them: “There is no need for them to go away; give them some food yourselves.” But they said to him, “Five loaves and two fish are all we have here.” Then Jesus said, “Bring them hear to me,” and he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass.

A doctor who was quite lukewarm in his faith returned from a church sponsored mission to Honduras and Guatemala on fire for Jesus. His compassion and love for the poor was growing every day. His prayer life was becoming very intimate to the point that he could hear God speak in his heart. One night in prayer, the doctor asked God a few questions to which he was surprised at how he could hear God’s voice in his heart.

“God, how much is a thousand years to you?”

God answered, “About a second.”

Then he asked, “God, how much is a million dollars worth to you?”

God answered, “About a penny.”

The doctor thought he would go out on a limb and asked, “God, please give me two pennies for my mission work in Honduras and Guatemala?”

God answered, “Sure! Just give me two seconds.”

The doctor’s heart was in the right place. However, he didn’t realize that his intimate relationship with Jesus is worth far more than two million dollars. You see a million or two dollars does not address the problem of the poor. It is a temporary fix. I am sure that the poor people of Honduras or Guatemala need much more from the doctor than his fund raising/ appeal to God. They need to see the doctor working side by side with Jesus, never separated.

Like the disciples, we look at what we got and focus on our own limited resources rather than the abundance of God. “Five loaves and two fish is all we have here!” God invites all of us to give from our own needs, not just our surplus. How often does Jesus point out to us how our own faith is the source of healing for ourselves and for our loved ones? “Go in peace. Your faith has healed you!”

Our ideas about ministering to the poor often miss the mark just like the disciples who believed that their concerns for the crowd were greater than Jesus. They tried to tell Jesus to send the people away to get food. Discipleship requires great emotional sacrifice and humility. Jesus tells us that the kingdom of God is already with us for all eternity. We have nothing to fear. God loves us, what could we fear?

Jesus seems to be suggesting that we get in the boat with him and travel to the deserted, poor and war torn places. When I get in the boat with Jesus who is grieving the death of his cousin John who was violently beheaded, it can be overwhelming. Can you see how Jesus feeds the crowds every time with our meager offerings?

Jesus feeds millions with just a little bit of bread and a few drops of wine. We truly will all eat and be totally satisfied after eating the Bread of Life and the Cup of Salvation today. Nothing, absolutely nothing can separate any of us from the love of God, not for a second nor a thousand years.

Jesus can teach us how we together can feed millions in both heart and soul with just five loaves and two fish. Just bring what you have to Jesus.

Then Jesus will take our bodies, look to heaven, say the blessing. God will break our bodies that are one with Jesus. Then God will feed the world with our unconditional love.

Now that is Good News you can sink your teeth into.

OUT IN THE DESERT

The Spirit drove Jesus out into the desert
where he remained for forty days
tempted by Satan.
He was among the wild beasts and the angels ministered to him.

Jesus fasted and prayed all the time, not just when he was in the desert. When I went to the desert for 40 weeks, I saw things I would have never seen before. When a rare and solitary bird perched in the distressed and pitiful tree while I was praying one morning behind the hospital, my heart and soul made room for the gratitude in my heart. This little bird of God’s creation filled me and sustained me in the desert of my surroundings and the desert of my being. Fallujah Iraq sits between the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers. This is near where the story of Abraham began his journey and walk with God. Abraham was driven from his home.

I was very reluctant to leave St. Patrick’s behind and serve with the Marines out in the desert. I was literally driven. In my heart, it seemed to be something very sacred calling me into the desert. Before I even agreed to go, I begged God to send someone else since I was so terrified. In the silence, Jesus assured me that he would never ask me to do something he would not do. Jesus would never let me go to the desert without Him.

Lent is like being forced into the desert. Out in the desert we discover things beyond our wildest imaginations. In the Gospel we heard on Ash Wednesday Jesus promises us that prayer from the heart will be repaid:

“But when you pray, go to your inner room,
close the door, and pray to your Father in secret.
And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.”

We never go alone into the desert of our fasting and prayer. It will always bring us to an encounter with the burning bush or the voice of God. God, our Creator, will listen to our tiny cries! The prophet Isaiah speaks the Word of God and shares with us the fruit of the true fasting and prayer requested by God:

This, rather, is the fasting that I wish:
releasing those bound unjustly,
untying the thongs of the yoke;
Setting free the oppressed,
breaking every yoke;
Sharing your bread with the hungry,
sheltering the oppressed and the homeless;
Clothing the naked when you see them,
and not turning your back on your own.
Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your wound shall quickly be healed;
Your vindication shall go before you,
and the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.
Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer,
you shall cry for help, and he will say: Here I am!

Isaiah 58:1-9

Out in the Desert

Out in the desert, God spoke to me no matter what kind of terror or boredom I was wrestling with. God said to me, “Here I am!” as death and violence raged about me. When I was forced to empty myself, God filled my emptiness that sustains me to this day. I shared the attached story this past weekend. This story is for me.

Have a blessed and holy week of Lent.
Love, joy, peace,

Father Ron Moses +

Bring an empty cup

There’s a story about a little country parish. One Sunday a rich man was passing by the church and, as he passed by, he heard the priest giving his homily. The man came in and sat down to listen After Mass, he went to the priest and said, “What can I give or do to become part of this parish? I have a lot of money. I also have power and prestige. What can I do?”

The priest said this: “When you hear about the forgiveness of sins, say to yourself, ‘This is for me.’ When you hear the gospel preached, say, ‘This is for me.’ When you receive the Body and Blood of Christ in the Eucharist, say, ‘This is for me.’

And one more thing. Every time you come to worship, bring an empty cup. Carry this cup with you whenever you come. It will remind you that you can give nothing. It will remind you that you’re really a poor beggar, and that everything is a gift from God.”

And to this day, people see that man carrying an empty cup when he goes to Mass. And not only that, but it seems that some of the other parishioners have started to carry empty cups too. They carry them wherever they go. It reminds them that they can bring nothing. It reminds them that they too, are beggars. And it reminds them that everything – literally, everything – comes by the grace of God.

Empty Vessel

Empty Cup

This is for me

PACHYDERMS: One Soldier’s Experience of the Vietnam War

By Danny Buoy
Link to Pachyderms updated

This book was updated and edited and reads well. The story is truly a diamond

Review by Ron Camarda MWSA
January 26, 2012

Pachyderms is a diamond in the rough. The book reads like a screenplay of a movie with substance…but better. The characters come alive, albeit complex, simple and surprisingly likeable, through the mind of a very gifted and clever author. St. Augustine’s Confessions came to my mind as I finished this book. Danny looks deeply into his own heart and soul and recognizes his own faulty judgments and foibles. The book is raw and demands that you feel, think about, experience and observe the fears, terror, boredom and blunt force of an illogical war. This is accomplished through the observations of a young new recruit who was overwhelmed by the inevitable deployment to an unpopular, seductive and perplexing Vietnam War. It was a war that blasted the body, mind and soul of the people who endured it.

If you dare to take the journey of this book, you will require a good dose of courage for the self-reflection. The author forced this Iraq combat veteran chaplain to re-evaluate some of my false assumptions of Vietnam Veterans and all combat veterans for that matter. Humbling.

To me, the book is more than real. It explores the depths of the heart and soul of young unsuspecting kids thrown into a caldron of invisible enemies, confusion, lust, virtue, immorality, poor leadership, superb leadership, terror, friendship, passion, fickleness, greed, death, red tape, the Army way, and love.

The story is compelling and resonates with life on many levels and dimensions. The book is connected and comes full circle in most cases. Some of the “unresolved” issues are just that, irresolvable. How could anyone understand suicide, returning soldiers treated like criminals, inept commanders receiving awards for causing so much misery, or a scared friend not saying goodbye?

The story, which more resembles a memoir, is complicated. Vietnam Veterans are complicated. This story really got under my skin. Any American History teacher or scholar would discover that Pachyderms is a hidden treasure, to use a Scriptural analogy. The story has the power that could assist healing in combat veterans.

Before I read about the deployment of PFC Cooby, the soldier narrating, I was so intolerant and skeptical of Vietnam vets in general. I was blind to the plight of the enlisted. When I read in shock about the R & R trysts of the soldiers to places like Hong Kong and Penang with the debauchery, lust and plain bad behavior, I was really angry with the soldiers. But I still really loved them unconditionally and I understood that they were not thinking with their brains, but only with their broken hearts. I forgave them and read on, as difficult as it was.

I am filled with gratitude for these men who suffered and were tormented by even their own family members upon return. There is much dissimilarity in the return of troops from the war in Vietnam compared to the recent wars. I am not sure I would have survived it. In war, “Charlie” (code for the silent and invisible enemy), can never hurt us other than physically. Only friends and loved ones can inflict the wounds of the heart and soul. And that is very clear to me, what all of us Americans did to our returning Vietnam Veterans. For some of them, death was a more humane or compassionate outcome compared to returning to a hostile America of the time. It just is. Vietnam Vets are not innocent nor without sins, but they do deserve to be forgiven for their own sins. They do not need to take the responsibility of those politicians and lousy leaders who sent them there without true support for the troops. My own sins are plethora. Who are we to judge?

Danny, like his Sergeant who went from feared boss to endearing friend, mentored me through this journey. Just as his former Sergeant corrected Danny Coobat, when he failed to mentor his replacement, in a very subtle way, Danny encourages those who dare to listen to his story.

‘The reader’ has never been in a bunker during incoming mortar, has never pulled a burned body from a Chinook, didn’t return from R & R only to find his buddies rotated, and has yet to be hailed by Rule number four. As far as I know, ‘the reader’ did not lose his first love Madilla, and only has one talent like you in July 1966. “Live and let live.”

At 17 years old, I entered into the overwhelming world of the military complex. Danny touches on many of those highs, middles and lows in navigating the torturous journey of becoming, not just a modern warrior…but also a decent and mature human being capable of honest and humbling self-criticism. He also shares with us the ability to love and to be loved.

The story is ordinary, gut wrenching, extremely thought provoking, and profound.

Thank you Sergeant Danny Coobat (and your friends both living and dead).
Welcome Home!

“Not good enough, Danny.” I wish I could embrace you, Sergeant Coobat, in a long hug,
engrossed in a feeling ‘brothers in war’ share. My eyes are too wet to confirm seeing a tear in yours, but my ears heard your voice crack when you said, “Good-bye Reader.”

CROSSING THE LINE by Bill Cain

Review by: Ron Camarda, MWSA

Crossing the Line takes the reader on a journey to Iraq and back again. The subtitle is misleading. The story isn’t just about one soldier, his eight-month pregnant wife, his children, an embedded journalist, or even the 42nd Field Artillery Brigade faced with a deployment to a warzone that was different than any other war, and yet a war like all other wars. As the story unfolds, the reader is allowed to experience, taste and be frustrated by the absolute boredom, tedious desert buildup and the aching for home along with the adrenalin rushes of the battle. The book is personal.

Those of us who have served or deployed (and those of us who watched and prayed for a loved one go off to war and return), Bill Cain captures that incredible place where a few days of waiting seem like an endless twilight zone. As a young intelligence officer at the time, Cain gives insight about how difficult and frustrating simple communications were in 1991. Cain places letters and notes of family, peers and enlisted throughout the book in chronological order, even though many were actually received days, weeks, or months later. It seems to be effective. Bill was tortured by not knowing whether his son was born. Historically, this book is very important for us to understand a time when most communications were done by snail mail. Today it is unfathomable for us to experience a war without Skype, Facebook, or cell phones. Yet the real fear of biological and chemical warfare wreaked havoc on the troops and all of us back home. It reminded me of my first convoy in Iraq in 2004 when I was terrified, whiney and just didn’t know what was coming next. Cain does a good job in showing the differences and similarities of the two Iraq wars. If a picture is truly worth more than a thousand words, the picture of Cain just before deployment with his caption pierce our humanity: “That’s me in the holding area, Rhein Mein, trying to cope with all the emotions of the moment.”

Even after we veterans return, we notice that something is left undone. Something remains in the desert, in the loneliness of being with others, and longing for the love in our bed beside us. Lovers have lost days, weeks and months that will never ever be found. We attempt to write them in books, journals, poetry, or songs, but we seem to never finish the story that has no ending. Crossing the Line is about crossing into the place of being lost, and then taking a shot at finding our way home…even if home is now changed forever. The true war is within. It isn’t political, although it often masquerades behind the political, capitalist, or communist machines of man’s creation.

Bill and Renee’s son who was born during the Desert Storm is now almost 20 years old. Their children’s lives are forever affected by this five-month deployment to a war zone. Their choice of studies, the kind of family they grow, and their involvements with the military were and are probably profoundly affected. It was only mentioned that their oldest son served in Operation Iraqi Freedom. Yes, we are soldiers and soldiers’ spouses…but our greatest love always sustains us and is victorious over any war or battle. The book left me longing for the real mark of the war in Bill’s relationship to his wife, family, and self over the years. Regrettably, Cain inadvertently puts too much emphasis on Saddam Hussein as the source of the war and evil. Much self-criticism of country and self is missing in action.

The last chapters were the most intriguing for me. Bill shares his wisdom as a seasoned colonel with his own bias that sometimes bordered on apologetics. In the chapters leading up to the “crossing of the line” I was a little bogged down by the military jargon, complaints, and tedious details of the plan of war. However, the weaving of Bill and Renee’s letters of love throughout the book kept the storyline anchored. Conclusions were based on his intimate experiences blended with his trustworthy and professional assessment in which disagreement was an option. On a few occasions his neutrality as an historian was skewed to the right, but for the most part he presented a very fair presentation. As one who went into Fallujah, Iraq in 2004 as a chaplain without this knowledge and understanding of the Gulf War, the book would be of great value for college and high school American History courses. The discussions would be lively.

When Bill writes about OIF: “…it’s easy to see how the insurgency was initially fueled by our failure to properly account for the immediate aftermath of war.” and “…it was clear that we had problems to solve beyond the enemy situation in Iraq.” These quotes revealed to me how crucial this book was to our growing awareness of the part we play in the wars of the world. Self-evaluation is always tough. Bill Cain was courageous in his attempt.

Bill Cain offers his own insight, craftily written to allow the reader to insert one’s own insight without negatively or positively reacting to the author. Bill is a hero for serving…especially for writing this thought provoking journey. It warrants all liberals and conservatives to read and then to come together and discuss on a back porch treating each other with profound respect and love.

This book was an honor to read. It offered me the opportunity to also go back to Iraq again to better understand what I (and those who love me) experienced. Thank you.

Journey of a Soul into Eternity

It doesn’t matter who we are, we all are on a journey in this life.

We all must be born and thrust out into the world usually against our will. We were all created from the sperm of a man and an egg of a woman. We strive to understand these donors as “Father” and “Mother”. Sometimes, because of circumstances that just are, others must step in out of love as foster parents to raise and love us.

Who would want to leave the warmth of our mother’s womb? We can’t fathom nor dream how total consciousness gets better and better. Human beings seem to be the only living creatures that are capable of contemplating the future and past. We think about an afterlife. Susi Pitman’s book, Animals in Heaven? Catholics want to know, contemplates whether our pets and animals will or are in heaven. We human beings can raise this kind of question, however animals don’t appear to “think” about it. Animals don’t write about thoughts like this article is doing, nor do they read and understand like you are doing at this moment. It isn’t good or bad, it is just an observation.

Sometimes, when life and being human becomes difficult, we wish we were like our pets. A dog or cat in a loving family really doesn’t worry about much. Nothing keeps them awake at night thinking. All of their worries and needs are in the present. Unlike our spouses, the more delayed you are in getting home, the happier the dog gets when you finally return home!

Basically, we are all more like animals than we are different. All of us strive to survive. We want to live. Even the person who commits suicide wants to live. The emotional, spiritual and physical pain has become unmanageable. The suicidal person, who basically has a “spiritual heart attack”, is hoping to get the life back flowing in their lives.

God is good, just look around. God doesn’t make junk. Too often, we focus and belittle ourselves mostly as sinners without looking at ourselves as a miracle of life. My experience of God is a loving Father and Mother. My hope is that God will always be this loving. God is always waiting for me to come home. God embraces you and me everyday with breath and a heartbeat. Mean dogs are only mean because they were trained to be mean by human beings. We are all first and foremost incredible, fantastic and beloved children of God. None of us would ever believe for a second that it is okay to abuse or injure a baby or toddler. And yet, we were all once just that. Loved. The only time a child is abused or aborted is when we fail to see the child as a one-of-a-kind and unique person like all of us. Those people are simply blind or dead to being open to the miracle of life and transcendence.

It is difficult to live. And it will be difficult to die. We see it coming and know that no one gets out of this world without dying. It is natural. I look forward to my death for it will be a journey, my journey. Don’t be afraid of living in heaven today on this earth. Life is an opportunity to journey and transcend our world and become more and more like our Creator. Amazing! Crazy! Fabulous! Forever.

Newborn babies don’t have a clue as to what is happening, but consciousness is a slow process. I suspect heaven will be the same. We are loved and God understands that we couldn’t possibly feed and protect ourselves from the beginning.

Trust God’s love for you and have a blessed day as a Steward of God’s Creation, which includes being stewards of our “thinking” and “birthing into heaven”.

Love, joy, peace,

Father Ron Moses +

Pura Vida