Desert Journal Day 3

Posted on February 13, 2009 by Carol Pipes

This morning I headed to the DFAC for an early breakfast. I found an empty seat and was later joined by SGT Smith and SGT Geeley – two nice young soldiers. They were just back from RR in the states and headed back to Afghanistan.

Everyone here is either coming from or going to a Forward Operating Base in the Middle East. Someone said the airbase is like a giant Greyhound bus station but with airplanes instead of buses. Some 3,000 to 6,000 troops come through the base every day. Some are in and out in 24 hours, others spend multiple days waiting on a flight to their destination. It’s a massive operation. And the wait is no fun, according to Smith and Geeley. We chatted over our eggs and coffee. They did their best to prepare me for the weeks ahead.

We have to wait until 1900 to get our passports back and then we can see about getting a flight to Baghdad. I spent the day walking around the base. Everything is brown. So much brown. The base blends right in with the desert landscape. I guess that’s the point.

There’s not much to do except walk past rows of tan tents, or maybe catch a movie at the MWR (I still don’t know what that means). I did a lot of walking. Any direction you looked was all flat desert. I’m sure it’s scorching hot in the summer, but this time of year it feels amazing. There’s always a breeze, and it doesn’t get above the mid-70s.

While we waited, I spent some time with Air Force Chaplain (CPT) Dallas Little who ministers to the thousands of individuals who walk past his office. He always has a pot of hot coffee and an inviting, safe place to hang out.

Little’s focus is to provide a ministry of hospitality. “We provide a safe, comfortable place for travelers as they wait for transport,” says Little. The chaplain’s office is no more than a couple of cubicles, but they managed to create an inviting atmosphere. Visitors to this small oasis are greeted with hot coffee and, if they’re lucky, Krispy Kreme donuts. “We probably go through 25-30 pots of coffee a day.”

Little sees a lot of soldiers on their way back from R and R. For some the trip home brings more trouble than rest. “They’ve been in combat, then they go home and manifest signs of post-traumatic stress,” Little says. “This often leads to trouble with the spouse. By the time they get back here, some wish they’d never gone home.”

Little sees a lot of soldiers and marines who suffer from combat stress and PTSD. His job is to provide a listening ear. “It’s my privilege and my burden to keep anything they say to myself,” says Little. “People come to us, because they know it’s safe to come to us.”

Last year (2018), an estimated 20.2 suicides occurred per 100,000 soldiers, the highest since the Army began tracking the figure in 1980. The figure is just slightly higher than the national suicide rate. 2008 marked the fourth consecutive year suicides have increase, according to the Army’s 2008 Suicide Data report released in January.

“Last year the military had more deaths due to suicide than combat,” says Little. “These guys are eye-to-eye with death. We try to help them deal with what they’ve seen and experienced.”

It’s an intense ministry, but Little is grateful to God for the opportunity to serve others.

Desert Journal: Day 2

Posted on February 12, 2009 by Carol Pipes

Arrived in Kuwait City. I’m not quite fresh or rested after the 13-hour flight. Sleep came in nods and winks. But at least I’m here. A Starbucks and Burger King in the airport lobby were a welcome sight. I’m amazed at how you can walk into a Starbucks anywhere in the world and they all have that same warm cozy feel.

We stepped out of the airport into the cool night air thick with dust. We were just in time to hear the sound of a muezzin from a nearby mosque calling for evening prayers. Our military escorts guided us quickly to their car. They seem anxious about getting us back to the airbase where we will eventually hop a military flight into Baghdad.

We headed north, I think. The lights of the city faded behind us as we drove into the dark.

At the base we handed over our passports and a copy of our orders – yes, real military orders. We were assigned a bunk and mercifully sent off to bed. I couldn’t tell much about the base in the dark. But I did manage to find the ladies’ latrine and shower trailer. Huzzah!

Desert Journal: Day 1

Posted on February 10, 2009 by Carol Pipes

Instant camaraderie develops between strangers when traveling to the Middle East. As I sat at the gate waiting for my flight to Kuwait City, I noticed the nods and smiles exchanged between fellow passengers. “Where you headed?” could be heard throughout the waiting area. “Baghdad.” “Fallujah.” “Kabul.” came the replies.

I was among a handful of civilians on the flight to Kuwait. The majority of passengers were soldiers, marines and airmen headed back to the front lines to rejoin their units and platoons after much-needed R and R.

The two young soldiers sitting near me at the gate had only been home for a few days of emergency leave. Even the Army knows it’s important to mourn the loss of a loved one.

I offered my condolences for each of their losses. Dave’s* mother had lost her battle with cancer. Jim had lost a child and fiancée in a car accident. A death in the family is especially hard when one is thousands of miles from home.

They both quickly changed the subject, preferring to focus on the mission at hand—getting back to their respective units. We chatted about our destinations.

They were quite interested when I told them I was headed to Camp Victory in Baghdad to embed with the 18th Airborne. “I’m reporting on the work of military chaplains deployed overseas,” I told them.

“Our chaplain’s great,” Dave said. “Every Friday he bakes bread for us and always has hot coffee. He’s a good guy.”

It’s the small comforts that make a big difference when you’re 7,000 miles from home.

They were kind enough to brief me on life in the Army and what I could expect living at a FOB (Forward Operating Base) for three weeks.

My conversation with these two soldiers only solidified my reasoning for the importance of my assignment. Life in the military is hard. Many soldiers suffer from combat stress. Add to that the stress of trying to hold a family together with only the occasional phone call or email. Divorce rates among soldiers and marines are significantly high. Military chaplains have the privilege and burden to minister to these highly trained and hard-working warriors. But how does one minister in a combat zone? That’s the question I hope to have answered during my time in Iraq.

As I boarded my flight, I offered up a quick prayer for my new friends. “God, protect them and comfort them.”