"He Who Stands Firm to the End"

Forward Operating Base Falcon
South Baghdad, Iraq
23 February 2008

For those who monitor this blog, you'll notice I haven't been able to write for close to a month. Working 72 hours a week will limit your free time. (Sadly, this number is not an exaggeration).

In late January, I learned from my command that I would be relocating to FOB Falcon in South Baghdad for a month. FOB Falcon houses the frontline infantry soldiers fighting in THE MOST WAR TORN region to the southeast of Baghdad. Shortly after arriving here one of the other mental health providers had to leave suddenly for Europe to address a medical situation. That left one other clinical social worker (Major R), and myself to address the mental health needs of a FOB of thousands of soldier and civilians. Since 5 FEB to the present day, I have conducted over 100 counseling sessions with soldiers. (Over 85 of them are 19-24 years old). The marital issues still are present, but pale in comparison to the acute stress reactions of these soldiers, and in some, chronic post traumatic stress reactions from deployments past. They've been hit with bombs, they've watched their buddies lose body parts to bombs, they've had flying molten copper bombs fly through their vehicles and destroying everyone but themselves leaving them covered with the blood and flesh of their comrades. Night terrors, flashbacks by day, insomnia, startle response, hyperalertness, sudden increases in anger and rage... they're experiencing it all, and taking these symptoms with such impressive stride and courage. Multiple black steel bands encircle one wrist of one of my young soldier clients. Each band, a lost life. Each band, a lost friend. One soldier has allowed the blood to dry onto the toe of one boot. He will not clean it off. It is a memory. That spot once a living piece of Brian, blood having carried the oxygen, the food, necessary for survival. "I look down and know that he is still with me in some way".

After working from 0800 to 2200 hrs, I walk home (an old Iraq soldier barracks) to what recently has been a full moon. I hear faint weapons fire in the distance, and cast a prayer up to God for safety and protection of these young men. I thank God for life... for vitality and the miracle of my unborn son, Ian. For my wife, and the precious blessing and inspiration she is daily. For the laughter and excited phone greetings and stories from my young daughters, Hannah and Grace.

I then have a choice. I can focus on the negative attitudes and cynical perspectives (as I many times hear incessantly from the 100 encounters recently with frontline soldiers coming from "outside the wire" every single day and night), and dwell upon what a Special Forces friend summizes, "the things that John Q. Public should NEVER ever know about", OR I can choose to focus on that which exemplifies hope. The future with my family. Reunion with friends. The hope, strategies, and homework challenges towards growth, recovery, and vitality I can give this one soldier within this one minute within this one hour that will bring them closer towards seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, that there is a brighter tomorrow, as long as they fight to grow and breathe and strive today. Tomorrow will be slightly brighter, until months of such tomorrow brings healing.

Suddenly, I am taken in by the constellations.. the same that my family and friends see back home. I can't hear the gunfire anymore by night, or the explosion of the mortars (flying bombs) we fire far outside the wall by day...
I am too busy embracing, instilling, embodying, and freeing that
beautiful
critical
absent of cynical
life-giving
pinnacle
of our
experience..
HeAlInG!
HOPE.

"You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. But he who stands firm to the end will be saved".
Matthew 24: 6, 13