Calling on God

This evening we rendered honors and welcomed home 11 more fallen servicemembers. The Dignified Transfers were witnessed by over 15 distinguished visitors from Washington DC, to include the Deputy Secretary of Defense. We had secret service security all over the place to ensure a secure environment was managed for all the general officers, senators and representatives from congress. Each passed through the Center for the Families of the Fallen to pay their respects and offer their condolences. Afterwards, they walked out on the flightline to witness each and every Dignified Transfer. I believe it was a sobering and necessary experience for all of them, so as to keep them mindful of the real world aside from politics and bureaucracy that they are so often tangled in.

I mingled and spoke with many of the family members that were here to meet their fallen loved one. The dynamics that exist among these grief stricken people are just indescribable. Some are centered and able to cope within the moment. Some are silent and lost in their own world of sorrow and grief. Some are in awe of the the circumstances they are in and are at peace with a sense of calmness about them. Others, a very select few, are inconsolable and crashing in hurt, anger and disbelief. All this can be experienced in just one family or in a group of families attending (1) Dignified Transfer. Those of us working with them have to be able to key in and tune ourselves to each individual and find a way to help them work through what they are about to witness. This extremely impactful life event, that will change their lives forever, is where we are placed to share in their profound sorrow and try to offer care, compassion and peace.

One such gentleman that I met tonight, was there to see his son come home. He was as "cowboy" as I have ever seen a man be. Hat, boots, vest, jeans, belt buckle and all. However, he was in a state of grief that led me to believe he was close to a nervous breakdown. He could hardly catch his breath. The stress and anger oozed from his lips and I just knew he was going to have extreme difficulties watching the Dignified Transfer. The chaplain and I spoke to him early on and settled him for a time. He seemed to calm down and gather himself while other families were preparing to go out and witness their hero be transferred to American soil.

I went out with the first movement, which consisted of 7 fallen. Emotions were high, which is predictable and normal for each Dignified Transfer. All the family members cried and held each other as the transfer cases were positioned, then moved one by one from the aircraft to the mortuary transition vehicle. What is interesting is that people will sob and cry, ask for God's strength, and then peace will shelter them after their loved one is moved. They also watch each of us as we render honors and salute during each transfer. I think they get lost in the respect and honor shown to their loved one and it moves them in such a way that it calms their spirit. I've seen this time after time and it is comforting in a way.

The second movement included the father, who hailed from Oklahoma, and as I mentioned was all cowboy. When we arrived at our position on the flightline I exited the surrey bus and was followed by this man. He walked toward the end of the roped area and my fears were realized. He rounded the corner and headed for the K-Loader, which held the transfer cases of the fallen set to be carried and transferred in this movement. I quickly intervened in his path and held him, blocking him from walking any further. He pressed an pushed into me, uttering how he wanted to see his boy. I kept calm and kindly asked him to remain behind the rope line for his safety and the safety of all on the flightline. My biggest worry was that the secret service agents would spring into action and intervene to protect the dignitaries participating in the movement. But, I was able to keep him from going any further and coerced him to stand with me as we honored his son. He groaned and growled (literally) as he tried to catch his breath. I believe, he was bound and determined to make it past me and the others who eventually surrounded him, so he could intercept his son's transfer case. He asked which case his son was in and I softly and quietly told him where his son was located. He stared and focused on that case with every fiber of his being. He continued to push against me looking side to side, as if seeking a detour around our human barricade. As the Dignified Transfer commenced, he broke a few times into tears and sobbed in between determined growls. I sat beside him, on one knee and silently prayed, calling on God to work and move in this moment and settle this restless, grief stricken soul. I asked for God's strength to help me, should I have to restrain this gentleman, but above all I trusted God to work through me to bring peace and calm to this situation. I calmly whispered the word "peace" as I held the man's hand. He gripped me with the force of a vice and I returned with a grip of my own equal to his. At times, he took deep breaths and sighed, between growls and grunts and I knew that my prayer was in the process of being granted. Silence fell over him as the carry team was about to move his son. I let go of his hand and snapped to the position of attention. He rose beside me and again tried to push past the corner post, heading in the direction of his son. I thwarted his attempt by leaning into him and grabbing his hand again. I was holding his right hand with my left as I saluted when the command was given. Then, the man took his hand from mine and began to salute beside me. I remember saying to him, "That's it, sir," "you're doing good," "hang in there with me." He was quiet and patient for a time. As the other cases were being transferred, he continued to salute with me for each one, 3 all together. Once all the cases were within the waiting vehicles, the attendants began to ceremoniously close the rear doors. The man broke yet again, calling out to his son and wanting to go to him. I calmly held him and told him "let us take care of your son now," and we would return him home safely. That was what he needed to hear. From that moment, he said, "I'm good now." "I'm glad he's home." The chaplain and I walked him over to be among the other families at the rear of the surrey bus and watched the transfer vehicles depart the area. The man knelt down and cried some more. I kept my hand on his shoulder and just sat with him. My last words to him were, "God's peace be with you now."

Quite an emotional and stressful evening, but all along, I just kept thinking God is in control here and I'm just one of his instruments to guide and assist as led. Glory be to Him.

Dignified Transfers witnessed (57)