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From Chaplain Richard Townes, First Battalion, Seventh Marines Stationed in al Qaim, Iraq on the Euphrates River at the Syrian border in 2006.

March

We recently suffered our first KIA (Killed In Action). It turned out that the very Iraqi who shot our Marine was on the same medevacuation flight as his victim. You can imagine the tension and emotion those of us who greeted the flight felt toward him.

Our remarkable Navy corpsmen and doctors went immediately to work and saved the Iraqi’s life, though there were many Marines nearby who felt that his life was not worth saving. That, of course, came from the emotion of the moment. We are not our enemies, therefore, we show compassion and mercy even on those who just gunned one of our own down.

Jesus said, “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’ But now I tell you: do not take revenge on someone who wrongs you.” This was not an easy verse for me to hear at that particular moment as I stood over a young Marine giving him the Commendation of the Dying. I can honestly say that for the first time in my life I experienced true hatred and it scared me.

As a pastor of the Church, I know how God wants us to treat our enemies, but as a man who has slept in the mud with our boys, as a man who has laughed with them at their silly antidotes over a cold MRE (Meals Ready to Eat), as a man who has cried with them at the death of a child or the break-up of a marriage, I didn’t want to hear God at that moment. I was angry at the man who killed my Marine. I took it personally as did the rest of us standing there.

This kind of anger is dangerous and it’s sent by Satan. It didn’t take long for me to regain my Christian composure. There were many standing around me who wanted immediate retribution. They were very frustrated as their desires (revenge) didn’t match with their orders (compassion). When I saw their conflict of emotions I immediately fell back into Pastor mode and began to pray for guidance. Then I began to offer the advice of Jesus.

Our Lord said, “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love you friends, hate your enemies.’ But I tell you: love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” With these words on my mind and heart I began to counsel our people that we are not like our enemy. This is the difference between them and us, it’s also the difference between the true God and the one our enemy follows - God’s love and forgiveness shines through even in the face of horror and death.

I am well and healthy, mostly. I have a cold right now, but that’s alright. My Religious Program Specialist (RP) and I have been busy moving into our new chapel – St. Michael’s – so called because Michael is the warrior angel. We will dedicate it on Easter Sunday. A big day for us here in Al Qaim.

Keep the e-mails, cards, and letters coming. I miss and love each one of you.

In Christ, Rick

July

A few days ago as I walked from my quarters to my office, I noticed a little bird. He was a young sparrow, probably just pushed out of the nest by his mother. He wasn’t doing anything extraordinary, just playing on the ground under some concertina wire, picking at something. I needed to see that little sparrow just at that moment because he was normal. I miss normal.

The night before I had been called upon to give the Commendation of the Dying to three men: two Marines and one Navy corpsman. This was particularly difficult for a couple reasons. One was that they died in a very horrific manner. They had hit an acetylene mine, and their Humvee was propelled 30 feet into the air as a fire ball. The other reason this was difficult was because I knew these men well.

That little bird under the concertina wire drew my mind away from the horrors of war, away from death, away from tragedy and back to a time when I felt normal and to a time when I didn’t need to think about the simple task of driving from one place to another. That little bird reminded me that there is still great good in the world and as a Christian that good centers upon the work of my Lord.

There is also another side to the story of this terrible attack: a fourth man survived. He was a fellow with whom I had spoken before about God and he had told me he wasn’t religious. He was married and his wife was pregnant, so I told him that it was time to think about Christ and all He did for us upon Mt. Calvary’s cross. I could tell he was thinking, “Come on, Chaps, change the subject. I really don’t want to hear about it.” However, less than two weeks later he was spread out on the trauma center gurney with 65 percent of his body burned, fighting for life, but he was alive and conscious.

After a few minutes of the doctors working on him, he asked to speak with me. I was in the back of the room, praying as the medical team treated him, when I heard, “Chaplain, up.” I immediately went to him. His face was rather badly burnt to the point that his lips were gone, although he was not beyond repair. He looked at me with pleading eyes and said, “Chaps, do you remember me?” It was hard to recognize him, but I did remember him and our conversation. “Yes,” I said, “I remember.” Then this man, who just days prior had not wanted to talk about God at all, said something remarkable, “Pray, pray.” So I did. I prayed for his comfort, for strength for his wife, for his family, for the medical staff, and for him and his recovery. Then I prayed the Lord’s Prayer. I will never forget the look of relief I saw in his eyes as I said, “Amen.” With that word the doctors went back to work, putting him under sedation, and probably saving his life.

The next day when I saw that little bird under the concertina wire I was reminded of another aspect of the normal life, for I was reminded of the graciousness of God. The Lord’s grace spared that man, the only one of the four in that flaming vehicle who did not confess Christ, so that he would be led to place his trust in the Savior.

I am anxious to visit him upon my return to the states to see how he’s doing, not just physically, but, more importantly, spiritually. I am anxious to tell him more about the Lord, and I am anxious to pray with him again, only next time it will be a prayer of thanksgiving.

Therefore, next time you see a little sparrow, a common little bird of the field, think about the normal action of our Lord for us, the bestowal of His grace through Jesus work on the cross, and then, thank Him.

Rick

September

This is the last of my e-mails as I will very soon depart this place. With my departure comes a flood of emotions.

The bond formed with these boys under the pressures of combat is strong. Having counseled men immediately following the news that their wives deserted them, having laughed at their really stupid jokes and foolhardy actions, having slept at night in same 110 degree hooch, having helped to wash the blood and bone fragments of the insurgent off their faces, and having wept openly with them as they stood next to the mass of burnt flesh that used to be their buddy, I am sure you can understand the strength of our connection.

Gen. Robert E. Lee once said, “It is well that war is so terrible, or men would grow to like it too much.” He is correct. Though each and every one of us desire nothing more than to return to our loved ones, we will also regret leaving a significant part of ourselves here. We have accomplished great things, but we haven’t done enough because others have to come after us, that means more Marines will die. Amongst the men of the United States Marine Corps, this is unacceptable. We finish jobs. We are dedicated to the cause of freedom and the protection of our own nation’s interests and citizens, so leaving is not as easy as you might expect.

The people of the United States have long justifiably appreciated the World War Two generation, I submit the warriors of this present engagement also deserve to be appreciated in the same manner. Yet there will be no parades for them, and, except for a few people at the airport, there will be no mass hero’s welcome. Then again, that might be appropriate for these Marines because for them the title “hero” should be reserved for those who went above and beyond, and those who gave their lives and not merely to those who showed up to do their duty.

May God bless you all and I hope that these missives have helped give you a glimpse into our life here – a viewpoint that you won’t see on CNN or NBC. Finally, don’t let the media’s lies or the politicians’ rhetoric confuse you – just keep your eyes on the flag for earthly freedom and the cross of Christ for freedom of an eternal nature.

I’ll see you soon.

Rick