CSC Chaplains in the News

Chaplain urges military spouses to avoid 'compassion fatigue'

FORT CAMPBELL, Ky., Nov. 23, 2010 -- With almost all the 101st Airborne Division deployed to Afghanistan, military spouses here have their hands full taking care of each other.

Photo credit Donna Miles
Maj. Stanley Arnold, family life chaplain at Fort Campbell, Ky., is working with Karin Jenkins (center), wife of Col. Sean Jenkins, commander of 4th Brigade Combat Team, and Rebecca Santos (right), wife of Command Sgt. Maj. Hector Santos, the brigade sergeant major, to identify and address compassion fatigue among spouse volunteers.

Day in and day out, they're called on to help a suddenly-single parent juggle work, kids and household chores, and set aside time to visit with the lonely wife who needs a friend. Too often, they find themselves consoling a widow who has just learned of her husband's death as they quietly wonder if they'll be the next to receive that dreaded knock on the door.

Maj. Stanley Arnold, a family life chaplain here, praised the outpouring of family support that's become a hallmark of the 101st Airborne Division's "Screaming Eagles" and nearly every other military organization.

But he's also concerned he's seeing signs of "compassion fatigue," with spouses already laden with their own responsibilities and burdens giving so much of themselves that there's sometimes little left to draw on.

Arnold met last week with spouses of the division's 4th Brigade Combat Team leaders, encouraging them to recognize signs of compassion fatigue in themselves and each other, and emphasizing the need to take time out to recharge their emotional batteries.

Last week's session was the first of an ongoing process Arnold plans to conduct with family leaders throughout the 101st Airborne Division as their loved ones serve in Afghanistan. He's hoping the message will resonate beyond the Kentucky bluegrass, and strike a chord with military families everywhere struggling to be all things to all people as they deal with their own deployment-related issues.

"You see it in all the brigades, people who are stepping up and helping each other, bringing meals, being there and walking with spouses and families" through the difficult times of the deployment, Arnold said.

Never is this support more important, or more emotionally and physically draining for the one providing it, than when it's for a family who has just lost a love one in combat, he said.

That's when caregivers are particularly likely to experience what Arnold calls "secondary trauma." As they grieve with the family and share in its loss, they also know that their own loved one is serving in the same combat zone, facing the same circumstances and even walking the same bomb-laden roads as their fallen comrade, he explained.

"These spouses are really in a unique place," Arnold said. "They are back here, dealing with the families of our fallen Soldiers, and at the same time, dealing with the day-to-day ups and downs of being that single parent, with their spouse deployed in a combat zone and never knowing whether that knock on the door is for them."

"That places them in a very, very difficult position," he continued. "When they walk with these other families through their grief they are having to face daily the possibility of their own grief."

As the Fort Campbell community rallies time after time again to support each other in the face of combat losses, Arnold said he's seeing troubling signs of compassion fatigue.

"I am seeing the withdrawal, the symptoms of depression, the loss of energy, the change in sleep patterns, irritability, those types of things," he said. "You don't want to watch the news because you are afraid of hearing about another Soldier getting hurt or injured, and you think, 'That could be my knock on the door.'"

Karin Jenkins, wife of the Army Col. Sean Jenkins, the 4th BCT commander, recognizes the signs all too well, particularly among Family Readiness Group volunteers who dig ever-deeper into their own physical and emotional reservoirs to help brigade families.

"We have incredible, caring, loving Family Readiness Group leaders. Why else would you step into a volunteer position that is 24 hours a day, seven days a week for a year or more?" she said. "They want to help. They love to help. That is their calling."

"And because they are so caring, it is hard for them to say 'no' to another human being," Jenkins continued. "They will say 'yes' many times, and many times a day and many times a week, and they are still taking care of themselves and their families and saying 'yes.'"

But as Arnold explained to Jenkins and other senior leaders' spouses, it's not only okay to say "no" and defer to someone else to help - sometimes it's critical.

"What I've learned over time is the importance of taking care of 'me,'" he said. "If I don't take care of me, then I become unable to perform the job that I need to. And if these spouses don't take care of themselves, then they are going to be unable to care for their families and their Soldiers."

Arnold suggested various ways spouses can break the cycle the leads to compassion fatigue. They can take a few minutes to meditate, sneak off into a corner to read a book, soak in a bathtub, meet their "battle buddy" for coffee, whatever helps them relax and reenergize.

Most importantly, he said, they have to be honest about what demands they can and can't carry, and recognize when it's time to step aside so another volunteer can step up to the plate.

"It is really about dialogue," Arnold said. "There are some people who, as the caregiver, feel that it's really not acceptable to talk about what is going on inside themselves. They feel that they have to put on a tough face and pretend that everything is okay. But that doesn't work."

"My hope as I work with the brigades and the Family Readiness Group senior leaders is for them to recognize the toll this is taking on them," he said. "I want them to understand that they need to take care of themselves, because they are being asked to walk into these situations again and again and again."

HELPING SOLDIERS

When soldiers battling the horrors of war reach their breaking point, they turn to people like Capt. Stacie Kervin.

Capt. Stacie Kervin, a chaplain with the U.S. Army and an Aberdeen native now living in Texas, is helping soldiers cope with war in Iraq. She is shown here at her deployment ceremony with her son, Evan, 4. (Photo courtesy of the Killeen (Tex.) Daily Herald/Photographer Catrina Rawson)

When soldiers battling the horrors of war reach their breaking point, they turn to people like Capt. Stacie Kervin.

"They've basically reached their last limit," said Kervin, an Army chaplain and Aberdeen (South Dakota) native.

Kervin, 31, is serving in Iraq with the 85th Medical Detachment, a combat stress control team that provides counseling to soldiers dealing with combat stress. The team will be in Iraq for a year.

Kervin went on active duty in February after eight years in the Army Reserves. Her deployment happened quickly - March 28 - but she said it was as if God was telling her: "You're ready."

Already, Kervin's unit has dealt with an explosion involving six soldiers; two died.

"That was my second day here," said Kervin, a 1997 Central High School graduate.

Soldiers and suicide

Some soldiers who come to Kervin for help are suicidal. Suicides among veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan have plagued the military, with the Army seeing a record number last year, according to a Time Magazine report. Last year, 160 active-duty soldiers killed themselves, up from 140 in 2008 and 77 in 2003, according to a separate Time report (time.com).

Kervin said she knows how to deal with this difficult topic - how to ask the right questions- because she's been through it. Her brother, Kevin Janish, who she said was struggling with depression, committed suicide eight years ago, she said. That's partly what prompted her to be a military chaplain.

Now, she said, she helps soldiers process their trauma and get better.

"That's the greatest thing when you can turn someone's life around," she said.

Intensity levels

Combat stress units are intense, she said. When the stress gets to her or another member of her team, which includes social workers and chaplains, they lean on each other.

But Kervin said she dealt with similar situations during internships, including at Walter Reed Hospital. She's gotten used to it, so it doesn't affect her as much.

But there are still times where it does affect her, including when a soldier is injured.

"They're like a brother or sister," she said.

But, she added, "It kind of makes you realize what's important in life," to value family and relationships.

Family ties

Being away from her family - husband, Michael, also an Aberdeen native; and son, Evan, 4 - is difficult. But they talk via Skype (this allows users to make video and voice calls over the Internet), which she said is an amazing communication tool.

Kervin said her son never really cried when she left.

Instead, she said, he told her, "Mommy, you go fight the bad guys, and I love you and I'm going to be a chaplain like you."

Kervin said her mom and dad, Ron and Joanie Janish of Aberdeen, as well as other family members, know she is supposed to be doing what she's doing. It's her calling.

So she doesn't worry about her own safety - she said she feels a sort of supernatural protection.

Said Kervin, "When you're supposed to do what God calls you to do, you've got this protection."

Chaplain David Plummer: Where Faith and Healing Converge

Chaplain David Plummer is a man driven by his devotion to God, to his family and friends and to every patient he comes in contact with as the team coordinator of Sentara CarePlex Hospital’s Chaplaincy Services Department. The department, which also serves Port Warwick Medical Arts in Newport News, is composed of over 30 volunteer clergy (both scheduled and on-call), five associate chaplains, as well as students from two seminaries and two graduate schools of psychology and counseling.

(Photo by Brian M. Freer)

Plummer began his career in chaplaincy as a volunteer nursing home chaplain in 1980. After serving in health care, correctional and military settings, he joined Sentara in 1999. There he immersed himself in the study of biomedical ethics (the philosophical study of the ethical controversies in health care settings), and in 2000, he completed a fellowship at the University of Virginia’s Center for Biomedical Ethics. Today he serves as an ethics consultant to Sentara physicians at CarePlex as well as Port Warwick Medical Arts. He is co-chair of the hospital’s ethics committee as well as the research ethics consultant for the Sentara Center for Healthcare Ethics, which analyzes the moral and ethical questions confronting health care today. Plummer is also active with the Eastern Virginia Medical School Institutional Review Board, a committee charged with protecting the rights and welfare of research participants.

"Growing up, we were in church on Sundays, attended Sunday school beforehand and also Wednesday night Bible study. It was the classic church experience where afterwards we would get together with family and friends to eat and enjoy each other’s company."

In addition, he is responsible for clinical supervision of master’s degree practicum (first-year) students and interns (second-year students) at both the Regent University School of Psychology and Counseling and the Old Dominion University School of Psychology. Plummer is also pursuing a Doctor of Ministry degree with an emphasis on pastoral care and counseling at Regent University.

In a recent phone interview with The Health Journal, Plummer, who is also a licensed marriage and family therapist, discussed religion, ethics, laughter and tears, and the roles these play in today’s health care environment.

HJ: What life events led you to become a chaplain?
DP: I really enjoy interacting with people and care about their struggles. I come from a religious background, and so it just seemed to be a natural fit. On a deeper level, there was a sensing by my inner person that this was what I was supposed to do.

HJ: Did you attend a house of worship throughout your childhood?
DP: My folks come from an evangelical background. Growing up, we were in church on Sundays, attended Sunday school beforehand and also Wednesday night Bible study. It was the classic church experience where afterwards we would get together with family and friends to eat and enjoy each other’s company. But even though I did all that, and would listen to and appreciate the Bible’s stories, up until my teens I was an agnostic. Later, through a number of events, I became convinced of God’s presence and his love for me and other people. That was my motivation to enter into chaplaincy.

HJ: What part of your job do you struggle with emotionally?
DP: The hardest part for me is when babies are brought into the Emergency Department and are not breathing and are unresponsive, and in fact, die. We have a number of SIDS deaths in the community, and from time to time we see abuse cases of babies and little children. As a dad, well, I instinctively think of my own child. I guess all the feelings associated with that kick in.

HJ: What part of your job brings you the most joy?
DP: My joy comes from talking with people and working with them. I experience it watching people in spiritual or emotional stress or duress come to a position of acceptance, where they are not in continuous turmoil over their circumstances or situation — that’s very satisfying.

HJ: What makes you cry?
DP: It’s hard to get me to cry, but when I do it is generally not a wailing cry, but tears of joy when I see something that is awesome and holy. To see a person achieve something or show tenderness to someone else, or when perhaps someone has made a personal breakthrough — that makes me tear up.

HJ: What makes you laugh?
DP: Spending time with my daughter. She has a wonderful sense of humor. Seeing her and hearing her comments—she just makes me laugh. She is the joy of my life.

HJ: What frustrates and/or angers you?
DP: Injustice, and when I see people being manipulated. In life, there are some very strong personalities—people who are used to getting their way and want to run roughshod over the values or wishes of others. I often see families who are very conflicted with one another about what the extent of treatment should be for Mom, Dad, Aunt Gertrude, whomever. Because of my experience with this, I cannot stress enough the importance of everyone having an advance directive, which is also called an advance medical directive. It’s a way for people to express to their physicians, the hospital and ultimately their family and friends what their wishes are if they are not able to speak for themselves.

HJ: Tell us about the role of ethics in medicine.
DP: The whole concept of ethics is doing the right thing by the patient. We need to make sure that the decisions that are made for patients who are not able to speak for themselves are in their best interest. On the research end, we need to make sure that if patients are given the opportunity to participate in a medical research study, the patient fully understands the benefits as well as the risks involved. We also need to minimize the risk to patients as much as possible. All patients deserve the best and safest health care available.

Medical Aid for Farah

Chaplains salute each of the fallen

Chaplain Kevin Wainwright was preparing his Easter Sunday sermon in Iraq when there was a knock on his door.

(AP Photo/LM Otero)
Army Chaplain Chaplain Jesus Perez pauses while talking about soldiers killed in Iraq during a tour of the chaplains offices at Fort Hood, Texas, Friday, Feb. 22, 2008.

The news was grim: 1st Lt. Phillip Neel was dead. The young officer and fellow West Point grad had been a regular at the chaplain's Sunday church services. Wainwright knew and admired him. Now he had to find the right words to honor him.

Wainwright chose the legend of Sir Galahad, King Arthur's noble knight, and the poetry of Alfred, Lord Tennyson to salute Neel in a memorial.

He spoke of his compassion, his devotion to his soldiers. But in trying to understand Neel's death, the chaplain also posed an agonizing question: "Why does it seem that the good guys are the first ones to fall?"

On Easter night, the sad milestone of 4,000 American deaths in the Iraq war was reached with an announcement by the U.S. military that four U.S. soldiers had been killed in a roadside bombing in Baghdad.

As the toll approached 4,000, Wainwright and hundreds of other military chaplains in Iraq and across America wrestled with hard questions constantly. These are the men and women who pray with the mortally wounded, who administer last rites on bomb-scarred roads, who sit at kitchen tables with grieving families back home.

Army chaplains such as Wainwright have been especially busy: Almost three-fourths of those who have died in Iraq were in the Army. Of the total lost in all services, more than 30 were just 18 years old; about 80 were older than 45, according to the military. Nearly 100 were women. A quarter of those who died were from just three states: California, Texas and New York.

But for every number, there is a name, and for every name, a husband or son, wife or daughter whose life is remembered, often by a chaplain.

"I'm the guy who knows all their stories," Wainwright says. "Of all the people in the battalion, the chaplain is the one who should know a little about everybody."

In 14 months in Iraq, Wainwright comforted countless grieving soldiers, composed handwritten notes to families and conducted memorials, including one for Neel held last year at a concrete-barricaded chapel.

"I remember them all," he says.

Military chaplains don't carry weapons, don't engage in combat, and yet they know as well as any the human cost of war.

Here are four of their stories:

———

When Kevin Wainwright arrived in Iraq in October 2006, it was his second deployment — he had served with the North Carolina National Guard two years earlier. This time he shipped out from Fort Hood, Texas.

The Army captain knew what the dangers were, but he was optimistic.

"I think we all go over there believing ... we're going to be that battalion that doesn't lose anyone," Wainwright says.

That didn't happen.

Of the deaths in Iraq, more than 1 in 10 have come from sprawling Fort Hood, including some very personal losses for the chaplain: One was an airman he had given Communion to days before he was killed, one a soldier he had accompanied on patrol, another he had joined for dinner.

Wainwright was familiar with the rhythms of life and death as a Presbyterian minister serving churches in Wisconsin and the Carolinas. But war was different. "It's personal," he says. "They WANT to kill you."

And each soldier's death, Wainwright says, took a toll. "As a chaplain," he says, "you lose part of yourself that you're never going to get back."

As chaplain for the 3rd Battalion, 8th Cavalry Regiment, Wainwright, 38, sometimes joined soldiers on patrols. He also tended to the injured.

He was there to tell one wounded soldier after he regained consciousness that five of his comrades had died. Wainwright sat with him for hours, then gently told the survivor: "I'm glad you made it and you're here."

He also was there to clutch the wrist of another soldier dying from shrapnel wounds to the head. He prayed in a circle with his friends, then stepped aside so everyone could say goodbye.

Amid so much death, Wainwright remained steadfast in his beliefs.

"My faith is not a stack of cards — it's rock solid," he says. "That doesn't mean I didn't grieve and think this guy is never going to know what it's like to be married or be a father. ... It hits home, too. You have those fears yourself. What would a loss be like for your own family? But if you dwell on that, it makes you less effective as a chaplain."

Wainwright smiles as he recalls the time he had some unexpected help soothing souls.

One day, he was trying to counsel a soldier when Eddie, a bomb-sniffing dog with a pitiful look, walked by. The distressed soldier petted the golden Labrador and instantly brightened.

"I was trying to come up with some theologically significant interpretation of a life crisis," Wainwright says, "but that dog did more ministry in 10 seconds that I could do in a month."

———

Sometimes he arrived by foot, other times by helicopter, but Chaplain Jesus Perez always had the same feeling when he visited a morgue in Iraq.

"I had this sensation of emptiness," he says. "The place is so cold, even colder than you expect. You're losing somebody you probably know, or at least a brother in arms. But when you're there with your commander and rendering honor to the soldier who died, it's a solemn moment in the life of everyone in that room."

In 14 months, the Fort Hood chaplain prayed over 56 fallen soldiers.

After the salutes and prayers were over, Perez, 43, always lingered behind.

"I'd wait for everybody to leave, then I'd cry like a baby," he says. "I tried not to show my emotions in front of the other soldiers. I wanted to be strong for them. But when I was by myself, I cried. ... That was my way of coping with the situation."

As chaplain for the Army's 3rd Brigade Special Troops Battalion, 1st Cavalry Division, Perez conducted several memorial ceremonies. He comforted the survivors, then took care of himself by talking with another chaplain or counselor.

"I had to protect myself from burnout," he says. "There comes a time after you hear so many are dead, you become frustrated, there's some anger. You ask yourself: 'When is this going to end?'"

But nothing he saw, he says, tested his faith.

"I believe God has his reasons," says Perez, who is a Messianic Jew. "Who am I to ask why? I know a lot of people have that question. I don't have that answer obviously. Since I don't have the answer, I don't even ask it."

In February, Perez received a poster he had ordered in Iraq that includes the names of 110 soldiers lost in his brigade. He plans to have it framed.

"It will go with me everywhere I go," he says. "It will go with me if I go back to Iraq. Some people may forget their names, but not this chaplain."

———

The Rev. David Sivret still lives with nightmares, headaches and memories of his brush with a suicide bomber.

The Maine Army National Guard chaplain was severely injured in the Dec. 21, 2004, attack at a mess hall in Mosul, Iraq, that killed 22 people and wounded dozens more.

Sivret has vivid memories of the day: sitting down for a roast beef lunch, saying grace, seeing a bright flash, waking up on the floor — having been thrown 10 to 20 feet — next to a soldier dying of catastrophic head injuries.

"That's one of those dreams that haunts me," he says. "The floor was slippery with residue and blood. People were screaming and hollering."

Sivret managed to stand, but he couldn't hear. He shouted some angry words — language, he says, "unbecoming a chaplain" — then collected himself and began praying with the wounded sprawled on the floor or on tables converted into stretchers.

The chaplain moved outside, unzipping body bags to examine dog tags, performing last rites to those who were Christian.

"I was running on adrenaline," he says. "I had a wicked headache. My left knee was shattered. My ribs were broken."

But Sivret didn't let on, fearing he'd be hospitalized. "I wasn't going to leave them," he says. "They were my soldiers."

National Guard members have accounted for 10 percent of the U.S. deaths in Iraq, including three men from Sivret's unit, two of whom were killed in that blast.

One was Sgt. Lynn Poulin Sr. The chaplain had celebrated his marriage in Maine.

The other was Spc. Thomas Dostie, whose parents had been Sivret's classmates, prompting the Guardsman to teasingly tell the chaplain: "'I know what you were like in high school.'"

Sivret presided at a memorial for the two, breaking down outside before he spoke.

He remained in Iraq a few more months, constantly encouraging the soldiers, telling them they were doing good. "I was trying to give them perspective and hope," he says. "You have to build them up because they have to go back out there again."

Sivret, now 52, returned to being the parish priest at St. Anne's Episcopal Church in Calais, Maine, where Guard soldiers occasionally visit.

Sivret's hearing has returned and his ribs have healed, but the war remains part of his life.

In December, he accompanied a master sergeant to notify a family of a soldier's death. Seeing the father's pained face, knowing the death occurred in Mosul — the city where Sivret was injured — brought back a flood of memories.

"It stays with me," Sivret says. "You change. You're never the same."

———

Chaplain Irvine Bryer faced death before, 40 years ago in another war — in Vietnam.

The skinny kid who survived the jungles returned to a desert battlefield as a grandfather — and Army Reserve chaplain for the 3rd Medical Command.

In Iraq, Bryer dodged mortars, rockets and shots fired at his helicopter.

Still, he says, "Never did I feel there was anything to fear. There is a season for everything under the sun. That's what Ecclesiastes says. ...I take that now and have a for long time as an important part of who I am."

The lieutenant colonel and Baptist minister was based at Camp Victory, the main U.S. military headquarters. He flew more than 11,000 miles in helicopters, frequently visiting hospitals, chatting and praying with the wounded, bringing calm to the chaos.

One day he went to the morgue to pray for a soldier but had been given the wrong name. When a soldier there cursed him and said he should have gotten the identification right, Bryer agreed, and asked him to get the correct information.

Later, the soldier apologized but still admonished him: "Get it right next time."

Bryer wore a Vietnam patch on his right shoulder that didn't go unnoticed in Iraq. Once, he says, a soldier said to him: "You've done this before. You think it makes a difference?"

"I hope so," he replied.

Despite all the tragedy he saw, Bryer had joyful moments — his favorite involving a little boy.

While visiting a health clinic, he says, a little Iraqi boy pointed to the chaplain's shaved head. His mother said her son wanted to touch it.

"He rubbed it like it was a ball," Bryer says.

The chaplain pulled a Snicker's bar from his pocket, broke it in two and gave half to the boy. "We pushed it together, toasting like we're ready to have champagne. I bit in and was making all kinds of sounds like mmmmm," Bryer says. "He was just sitting and laughing."

For Bryer, now 62, this fleeting moment of friendship offers promise for the future.

"I hope that when we're finished," he says, "this is what it's all about."

———

In February, Capt. Wainwright stood in a brick chapel at Fort Hood to honor fallen soldiers.

This was not a day to mourn 4,000 lost, but the eight men from his battalion who did not come home.

"There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of those guys and feel some hurt in my heart," he says.

Wainwright spoke in a chapel with stained glass windows that depict cavalry soldiers. The names of those who've died in other wars are engraved on plaques.

Wainwright remembered each of the eight killed in Iraq by name, quoted from Psalm 20 and told mourners that these soldiers are "beckoning from the grave, demanding us to be the men they were ... good and honorable men."

The chaplain wears a memory bracelet with the name of one of them, Phillip Neel, who is buried in the West Point cemetery next to the Old Cadet chapel, where Wainwright used to worship.

"Every time I go back, even when I'm a decrepit old man," the chaplain says, "I'm going to go to the cemetery and look at the headstone, think and remember him, who he was, what he stood for."

Total commitment: couples committed to Army and each other

FORWARD OPERATING BASE KALSU — After serving a tour in Iraq together, married couples in the 2nd Brigade Combat Team will have certainly fulfilled the 'for worse' part of the their vows.

Spc. Tiffany Doyle (left), 2nd Brigade, 3rd Troop Battalion and spouse Spc. Kelly Doyle, also 2-3 BTB, relax together at the Kalsu Morale, Welfare and Recreation Center.

While all Soldiers are committed to serving their nation while deployed, these couples extend that commitment to each other.

Whether married for a long time, such as the Staff Sgts. Stacey and Krishni Ryland, who have been married five years, or short, like Chief Warrant Officer Jerry Emmons and Capt. Julie Bermeister, married since October 2006, both couples said they are grateful to be deployed with their spouse.

Besides the obvious advantage of seeing each other when missions allow, being deployed together has other benefits.

"Communication skills have become extremely important. It is one of the things that has improved in our relationship," said Emmons, brigade aviation element officer. "We learned how to listen and talk to the other one."

Even when together, such communication is vital in keeping marriage strong agreed Krishni, 26th Brigade Support Battalion dining facility non-commissioned officer in charge, and husband Stacey, 26th BSB chemical/ battalion day battle NCO.

A strong spiritual relationship also helps.

"We have a good relationship with the Lord; it keeps us together spiritually," Stacy said.

The two also said they maintain a good support and trust system in place.

"If you have those two together it (the relationship) is kind of hard to break no matter what is going on," Stacy said.

That is not to say that relationships cannot undergo strain or stress while deployed.

Although married couples serving together on Kalsu avoid the problem of leaving a spouse behind, additional problems in the relationship can be created.

"With her being here it does add to stress; I find myself hesitant to do some things," Emmons said.

Burmeister called the situation a double edged sword. On one hand, she said it is good that as soon as he comes back from a mission, she can see that he is okay, yet each time she sees him drive or fly off, it hurts.

The Rylands agreed, saying that it is stressful when they do not have accountability of each another.

Expressing feelings for each another can also be a challenge, said Chaplain (Capt.) Javon Seaborn, 26th BSB chaplain.

"The reality is that deployed married couples share a different dynamic that single Soldiers or married Soldiers whose spouse is not in the military can't relate to. Deployed married couples see each other every day but cannot express their feelings to each other because of the deployed environment," Seaborn said.

Although the brigade is attempting to secure lodging to allow couples to live together, currently couples are separated.

Work schedules can also interfere with time spent together.

Originally the Rylands were on different schedules; Krishni worked day and Stacey worked nights. Before Stacey switched to day shift these conditions interfered with the couple's ability to spend time together.

Emmons said he and his spouse spend time talking with the chaplain to help with difficulties.

Although his main function is to support the religious needs of Soldiers, Seaborn said another big chunk of his workload deals with helping married couples overcome difficulties experienced during deployment.

"Almost all of the couples that I have seen have had the same issues with communication and how this environment tends to restrict them as a couple," he said.

To help these couples, Seaborn said he suggests couples take time to Ôdate' each other again.

A good date is sharing meals in the dining facility. Besides seeing each other, dinner dates at the dining facility give couples a time when they can come together. They could catch up on what is going on at home and vent to each other about the day or the week, Seaborn said.

Merging the military lifestyle with their marriage lifestyle can also help. Emmons and Burmeister like to go to church and walk to work together while the Rylands said they run and do physical fitness training together.

Seaborn also suggested doing little things like writing love letters, leaving notes, or surprising them with a gift and putting it on their cot or in their sleep area will pay big dividends.

To further help couples, Seaborn said he and brigade chaplain, Chap. (Maj.) Jay Hearn, are planning classes for married couples to attend to strengthen bonds. Retreats for freedom rest are also being planned.

All of these things are being offered to help couples remain strong through their deployment struggles.

Despite some of the struggles, all the couples said they would not trade it for anything.

"I prefer him being here," Burmeister said.

"Being able to see each other; I like having that support," said Krishni, whose first deployment to Iraq was spent away from her spouse. "You can always talk to your spouse."

ADDITIONAL PHOTOS:

Pfc. Jason and Pfc. Jacqui Spillane are one of eight dual-miltary couples serving together at Forward Operating Base Kalsu in the 26th Brigade Support Battallion. The battalion contains 18 dual-military couples.

Sgt. Kareem Brown (left), Headquarters and Headquarters Company, and his spouse Pfc. Diana, 2 Brigade, 3rd Troop Battalion, are one example of couples serving together at Forward Operating Base Kalsu.

FOBs prioritize scheduling, logistics to support Soldiers' religious choice

Forward Operating Bases (FOB) Freedom and Liberty have prioritized scheduling and logistics to support mobilizing Soldiers' religious commitment.

(Photo by Lacey Justinger)
1st Lt. Bryan T. Wright, 478th Engineer Battalion (left), and Maj. Quentin Collins, 1203rd Engineer Battalion (right) baptize Staff Sgt. Edward A. Lewis, 224th Engineer Company, in a handmade, field baptismal font at Forward Operating Base Liberty.

"Freedom of religion; if you honor that, you honor everything the Soldiers stand for," said Chap. (1st Lt.) Bryan T. Wright, with the 478th Engineer Battalion. "Take that away, and you take away everything a Soldier stands for and puts their life on the line for."

"We're here to provide support for all denominations," said Chap. (Maj.) Quentin Collins, with the 1203rd Engineer Battalion. "We're here to provide support for the freedom of religion."

A small crowd, including a unit commander, gathered around a plastic-lined wooden box filled with water located a few yards away from the motor pool, a dusty road and large tent under construction.

Their purpose was to show support for Pfc. Conner L. Green with the 1203rd and Staff Sgt. Edward A. Lewis with the 224th Engineer Company, who chose to participate in a field baptism as a testament to their beliefs.

"It was something I always wanted to get done before I went overseas, and my whole squad turned out for it," said Lewis in response to his field baptism.  

Inside a triple-wide trailer, where the walls are covered in improvised explosive device-defeat posters, road maps of Iraq, sand tables and charts, groups of Soldiers meet weekly to express their faith and set aside time for worship during their mobilization training.

"The FOB got behind us and dedicated one classroom to us all day long, so whenever we could coordinate schedules it was available and ideal," said Chap. (Lt. Col.) Gary D. Gilmore, with the 35th Engineer Brigade, who held services at FOB Freedom. "We had services morning, noon and night with a good mixture, variety and response of all units, at all three services."

(Photo by Lacey Justinger)
Father Patrick Boyle, a contracted Catholic priest, reads a passage and blessing at Forward Operating Base Liberty.

"The Army and the government have an obligation to support a Soldier's right to the free exercise of religion," said Chap. (Col.) Steven Colwell, the Fort McCoy installation chaplain. "Chaplains, chaplain assistants and other religious support personnel are the way the government attempts to fulfill that obligation to the Soldier's First Amendment rights."

Catholic Masses at the FOBs started in July and are held Sundays at Liberty at 11 a.m. and 12:30 p.m. at Freedom. Father Patrick Boyle, one of the Catholic priests contracted to provide services, travels from Mundelein, Ill., to officiate some of the services. He served as a chaplain in Vietnam and offers the same format of Mass that he performs for his home parish.

The Mass includes communion and crowd interaction; Spc. Jacob C. Steele, 2nd Lt. Matthew J. Kremer and Spc. Justin Case with the 478th Engineer Battalion all read passages for the congregation during the second service offered at Liberty this summer.

He tells Soldiers, "Even if you can't get to Mass, keep it in your heart. Pray for everything; pray for the war. Do your part, take no chances and be careful."

Protestant Services are scheduled at both FOBs at 7 p.m. Sundays.

Unit chaplains stationed at the FOBs may offer more flexible chapel schedules. Due to training schedules, chapel attendance has ranged from eight attendees to 120 Soldiers.

"Soldiers have been frustrated when they can't get there," said Gilmore. "It's hard to make time when the training schedule treats Sunday like every other day and there are no two hours where everyone stands down."

"We're all here training to go to war but if we are not spiritually ready to go then all that training will not be effective," said Collins. Collins brings in a personal MP3 sound system, a laptop and a PDA to provide worship service music, slides and sermon notes. "Encouraging, uplifting messages of hope," he said are his main focus. "Joy is the key thing; joy breaks tension in intense situations."

But according to these chaplains, chapel services are only a small part of the mission. Chaplain's assistant Sgt. Joel Taylor with the 1203rd explained that the main focus is to go out and minister in the field and to give spiritual encouragement to the Soldiers.

"Most of the ministering is out with the troops in the field, 11 at night up in the guard tower, praying with them before they go outside of the wire; that's where it's at," said Wright. "Soldiers are good readers of who's genuine and if you really care about them."

"Preaching is a small facet, less than 10 percent of the emphasis," said Collins. "It's a proactive mission; we're called to be with the Soldiers, as a good luck charm, a talisman. Commanders value what religion brings to the fight."

"It's a different worship atmosphere when Soldiers come together," said Gilmore. "It's a boost for morale, a positive impact for the head and heart; then get out there and train."

For more information, contact the Fort McCoy Religious Support Office at (608) 388-3528 or visit the Chapel Center in building 2675.

(Justinger is a public affairs specialist for Eagle Systems and Services Inc., contractor for CONUS Support Base Services.)