Fourth of July

On July 4, 1776, Samuel Adams rose in the Continental Congress to announce, “We have this day restored the Sovereign, to whom alone men ought to be obedient.” Thomas Jefferson voiced the same theme in the Declaration of Independence:  “. . . that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights.” On this day, our Founding Fathers took one of the greatest steps of faith in history—severing the ties of royal authority, representing centuries of tradition, and putting in its place the authority of God. They looked to God as the source and guarantor of their (and our) rights as human beings. At this moment in history a new nation was created with God at the center and individual citizens at the top of the chain of human authority—since it is the individual citizen who has the relationship with God. Ultimate authority came to rest therefore with the private person, not a king, president, parliament, or congress. These are America’s spiritual roots and what has distinguished this nation from all others ever founded.

The sacred rights of mankind are not to be rummaged for among old parchments or musty records. They are written, as with a sunbeam, in the whole volume of human nature, by the hand of divinity itself, and can never be erased or obscured by mortal power. ~Alexander Hamilton

Darkness and Light

During the Vietnam War a Special Forces camp at Duc Co was manned by a few Green Beret troops, several hundred Vietnamese soldiers, and a small artillery unit. It was located about six miles from the Cambodian border and far from other friendly forces. Life in the remote outpost was always tense, but especially so at night:

As the last helicopter fades into an unidentifiable dot and the sun kisses the sky its golden goodbye, you know you’re in for another long night at Duc Co. Though the night has fallen, work has not ceased. For Duc Co and the men of A Battery, Duc Co is a synonym for work, 24 hours a day. The Duc Co world is a small one. Bunkers, homes, fortresses and recreation rooms are all one (and) the same. Last night PFC Baker was bitten by a rat. The night before was scorpions’ night. What will tonight bring? Sunrise is a pleasant sight. For a new day brings relief not only from the things that kill in the night and bite in the dark, but also offers the hope of some mail from home.

Fortunately, most of us associate darkness with rest. We get our much-needed sleep at night and know we couldn’t do without it. We also know, however, that night time can be a time of fear—fear of the unknown and the unexpected. Bad things stalk the darkness, whether insects, enemy soldiers, drunken drivers, or drug dealers. There is nothing worse for a parent than a late night phone call.
Interestingly, the opening verses of the Bible describe the prevalence of darkness in the universe until the moment God introduced light. He then separated the light from the darkness, creating in effect day and night. In the last verses of Revelation, we learn that, when the end time comes, darkness will be finally and totally eliminated. Evil will be purged and, with it, fear of the unknown and unexpected. We are promised that we will live then in the pure light of God’s eternal love. What a promise, and what a future to look forward to!

And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. ~Genesis 1:3-4

The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. ~Revelation 22:3-5

(This devotional is from Stories of Faith and Courage from the Vietnam War)

Happy Valentine's Day

Valentine’s Day was special to Sgt. Edmund Sheldon. On that day in 1968 a Viet Cong mortar round landed five feet from his tent in Vietnam and completely destroyed it. It so happened that he was not in the tent, having been called away a few moments before to take a radio message. Sixteen years earlier, his unit in Korea had been hit by enemy mortar fire on February 14, marking the start of a four-day battle. ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ has had a special meaning to this soldier ever since these events.

Valentine’s Day, as we now know it, has vestiges of both Christian and ancient Roman traditions:

One legend contends that Valentine was a priest who served during the third century in Rome. When Emperor Claudius II decided that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and families, he outlawed marriage for young men—his crop of potential soldiers. Valentine, realizing the injustice of the decree, defied Claudius and continued to perform marriages for young lovers in secret. When Valentine’s actions were discovered, Claudius ordered that he be put to death.

Pope Gelasius declared February 14 St. Valentine’s Day around 498 A.D. Through the ages since then, the day has became ever more associated with romantic love and the exchange of affectionate notes and letters. Printed cards came into vogue in the 1800’s, leading to the billion cards per year industry that we know today.

Although some of us have a certain cynicism about the blatant commercialism of all our holidays, including this one, Valentine’s Day still presents a golden opportunity to focus our attention on the ones we love. If cards and flowers advance certain romantic relationships, that’s a good thing. If well-established couples rekindle a spark, that is even better. I believe that God smiles in heaven when a man and woman nourish the love that brought them together and, in the process, nourish and strengthen their families.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. ~1 Corinthians 13:4-7

(This story is the February 14 devotional from Stories of Faith and Courage from the Vietnam War.

Book Award

I just received notice that Stories of Faith and Courage from the Vietnam War has won a Gold Medal in the Stars and Flags Books Awards. Also, Miracles of the American Revolution has received Honorable Mention. The awards and book cover images are on display at www.starsandflags.com. Thanks to my great publisher and many good editors for making this possible.

9/11

During a radio interview today on WHKW in Cleveland, the host, Glenn Mertz, asked me what I, a Vietnam veteran, thought about the current conflicts in the Middle East. The question took me back to September 11, 2001, the day of the most cowardly attack ever perpetrated against America (in my opinion, even surpassing Pearl Harbor). As my thoughts went back to that day, I was overtaken by the feelings of anger and frustration that came over me and so many others. This declaration of war against our nation required a response. I think I can speak for the vast majority of military men and women, past and present, in expressing the profound belief that such a war needed to be fought on the ground of our enemies, not our own. I think this feeling prevails in spite of the hardship endured by our service men and women during repeated deployments and constant danger. Our modern warriors have been placed under the greatest strain imaginable. Many have paid a high price. We as a nation are blessed that young men and women are still found willing to step forward and pay this price. God bless our people in uniform, and God bless America.

No Stained Glass Windows

Early in the Vietnam War Lieutenant Ronald DeBock was assigned as one of the first chaplains to the field hospital run by Company C, 3rd Medical Battalion, known throughout I Corps as ‘Charlie Med.’ He made it his duty to meet jeep and helicopter ambulances day and night to be one of the first to offer comfort to the casualties as they arrived. He often stayed with the seriously wounded in the operating room and followed up with frequent visits to the wards, bringing reading material, praying, and just talking with the men. He helped some make commitments to Christ.
On Sundays he held services in the hospital chapel, a fly tent pitched beside a nearby rice paddy. The chaplain had good memories of his primitive but spiritual ‘church:’

It had no stained glass windows or even a single picture, but our blessed Lord was ever present, and the men knew it. They sang and worshipped as they had back home. They gradually adjusted to the sights and sounds of the area, and continued to pray or sing despite the noises of jets, helicopters or artillery fire. Attendance at worship services was generally in small groups. In the hospital area and in nearby troop sites large assemblies of personnel were neither practicable or desirable. Nevertheless, they came to worship God. The Marines seemed to take their religion as seriously as their duties.

There is a small chapel at Camp St. Christopher on Seabrook Island, South Carolina with only one noteworthy amenity. It has a large window over the altar with a view of the Edisto River and Atlantic Ocean. As the palm fronds sway and seagulls coast by on the breeze it is not difficult to go to a deeper level spiritually. God doesn’t require much to enter our thoughts. He waits patiently for us to give him our attention. We can worship him in cathedrals or in tents. It has more to do with our own sense of urgency and our own understanding of how much we need him in our lives.

To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul; in you I trust, O my God. Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long. ~Psalm 25:1-2, 4-5

(This story is a devotional for August 29 from Stories of Faith and Courage from the Vietnam War.)

Devotional for the Day

The following is an excerpt from my new book, Stories of Faith and Courage from the Vietnam War The story is titled, "Tracers"

Red-orange fireballs erupted wherever mortars impacted, and enemy green tracers crossed paths with friendly red tracers. Seeing the colorful pyrotechnics, it was easy to forget how deadly the attacks could be. The American red tracers poured out in defense, and the enemy tracers converged inward like a million fireflies at war.

His tracer rounds ricocheted in lazy, bright-red arcs, a breath before the first pinging sounds of steel on steel returned to the south bank. Streams of tracer fire converged on the target, bouncing off in a crazy-quilt pattern and joining four times as many invisible rounds in a giant buzzing hornet’s nest of sound. Then the machine guns on the north bank opened fire in short stuttering bursts and the enemy’s tracers, bright green, came vaulting over the river.

Every fifth round in a belt of machine gun ammunition is normally a tracer. These are special bullets with a hollow base filled with a bright burning pyrotechnic material such as phosphorous or magnesium. When fired, they create a red or green streak that enables the gunner to follow the trajectory of his rounds and adjust his aim accordingly.
Unfortunately, there is an old military adage that, “Tracers work both ways.” The bright red streaks that help gunners adjust fire, also mark their position for the enemy. Hence, the converging red and green fireworks described above.
The Apostle Paul described a similar principle governing our behavior by using an agricultural metaphor: “A man reaps what he sows” (Galatians 6:7). He points out the obvious: When you plant corn, you can expect to harvest corn. When you send out indifference or irritation toward others, you can expect the same in return. Conversely, a smile or friendly gesture will usually lead to something good. The people in our lives and God himself will sooner or later follow the tracers we send out—back to their source.

The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life. Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. ~Galatians 6:8-9