"God always protects the helicopter you're on, huh chaplain?"
It was received with chuckles and dismissing groans from the other soldiers in earshot.
But like a spark that flickers before igniting into flame, the comedic claim quickly reified into fact in the desperate hearts of exhausted men. Men barely hanging on to their determination to live as each day dragged on in menial labor, interrupted only by spurs of sobering violence.
The chaplain, simple and reserved except when possessed by a great spirit of grandeur in leading his ragged congregation to worship, replied with silence and a sheepish grin as the troop trudged slowly through the swampy terrain to the field where the helicopters were waiting. It was a South Korean troop, one of but few participating in the Vietnam War, a part of the South Korean government's meager attempt to show alliance to the US. These were men who either had the unfortunate luck of being chosen randomly by the military leadership, or determined the opportunity to be a means of financial relief for their families back at home in the developing, new democratic nation. All shared the experience of coming to the war to come face to face with a nightmare beyond their imaginations.
Oftentimes transportation meant packing several soldiers into small unprotected helicopters to fly over enemy territory, a journey during which any one or more of the aircraft could be shot down without much hope of escape. These men knew the readiness of the possibility that this time it could be theirs, they knew the men who died of these tragedies, and thus were well-acquainted with the fear of each gamble. But as men of military expertise, they also knew well to keep this fear away from the forefront of their consciousness, they knew the futility of succumbing to emotion in such a situation. But as the thought of supernatural safety began to spread like wildfire through the desperate hearts of these fathers, husbands, brothers, sons, hysteria let loose.
The chaplain felt a rigid silence fall over the troop, footsteps began following faster behind him. He approached a helicopter. As he grabbed hold of the door frame and hoisted himself in, the troop's hovering pressure became an outright brawl. They were not pushing and fighting against fellow soldiers, they were reaching to grasp any sense of protection in this strange land of volatile realities. As men climbed over one another to cram themselves through the entrance of the helicopter, the chaplain sat helpless, clenching his hands around the edges of his seat, taking in the scene of human desperation with wide eyes. His heart shattered. Without thought he began lifting up a wordless prayer to God. He prayed of his despair, of deep sadness at the sight of this chaos. He did not ask of anything. He merely relayed his heavy broken heart in all its intensity and solemnity before His Lord.
The commotion was broken by the berating bark of the commanding officer. The depraved men were at one soldiers again. Obedient and lucid to the orders of the hierarchy. The officer stepped up to the doorway of the helicopter, and grabbing the soldier closest to the entrance by the scruff of his shirt collar, yanked him out with a final chastising reproach. He then climbed aboard and promptly secured himself in the newly evacuated seat in the chaplain's helicopter, clearing his throat and murmuring of the ridiculousness of the soldiers' superstitions.
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The chaplain, simple and reserved except when possessed by a great spirit of grandeur in leading his ragged congregation to worship, replied with silence and a sheepish grin as the troop trudged slowly through the swampy terrain to the field where the helicopters were waiting. It was a South Korean troop, one of but few participating in the Vietnam War, a part of the South Korean government's meager attempt to show alliance to the US. These were men who either had the unfortunate luck of being chosen randomly by the military leadership, or determined the opportunity to be a means of financial relief for their families back at home in the developing, new democratic nation. All shared the experience of coming to the war to come face to face with a nightmare beyond their imaginations.
Oftentimes transportation meant packing several soldiers into small unprotected helicopters to fly over enemy territory, a journey during which any one or more of the aircraft could be shot down without much hope of escape. These men knew the readiness of the possibility that this time it could be theirs, they knew the men who died of these tragedies, and thus were well-acquainted with the fear of each gamble. But as men of military expertise, they also knew well to keep this fear away from the forefront of their consciousness, they knew the futility of succumbing to emotion in such a situation. But as the thought of supernatural safety began to spread like wildfire through the desperate hearts of these fathers, husbands, brothers, sons, hysteria let loose.
The chaplain felt a rigid silence fall over the troop, footsteps began following faster behind him. He approached a helicopter. As he grabbed hold of the door frame and hoisted himself in, the troop's hovering pressure became an outright brawl. They were not pushing and fighting against fellow soldiers, they were reaching to grasp any sense of protection in this strange land of volatile realities. As men climbed over one another to cram themselves through the entrance of the helicopter, the chaplain sat helpless, clenching his hands around the edges of his seat, taking in the scene of human desperation with wide eyes. His heart shattered. Without thought he began lifting up a wordless prayer to God. He prayed of his despair, of deep sadness at the sight of this chaos. He did not ask of anything. He merely relayed his heavy broken heart in all its intensity and solemnity before His Lord.
The commotion was broken by the berating bark of the commanding officer. The depraved men were at one soldiers again. Obedient and lucid to the orders of the hierarchy. The officer stepped up to the doorway of the helicopter, and grabbing the soldier closest to the entrance by the scruff of his shirt collar, yanked him out with a final chastising reproach. He then climbed aboard and promptly secured himself in the newly evacuated seat in the chaplain's helicopter, clearing his throat and murmuring of the ridiculousness of the soldiers' superstitions.
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