Perilous
Times
Preparing clergy for war: army chaplains train by the
hundred for the combat zone
By Eric Marrapodi and Chris Lawrence, CNN
Fort Jackson, South Carolina (CNN) – The summer sun beats down on
camouflaged Kevlar helmets. Weighed down by heavy body armor, men
and women of the cloth are crawling through sand, under barbed
wire and learning how to run with soldiers.
Explosions in woods simulate the battlefield as an instructor
barks commands.
"You are not following simple instructions! Cover me while I
move! Got you covered! Let's go!"
This is the U.S. Army Chaplain Center and School at Fort Jackson,
South Carolina, where the Army trains clergy of all faiths how to
survive in combat.
Once many of these chaplains complete this modified basic training
they will head to war in Afghanistan and Iraq, where the
explosions and gunfire are not simulated.
U.S. Army chaplain candidates train at Fort Jackson in South
Carolina.
Here at Fort Jackson, on a range in the woods, there is a bevy of
broken down cars and trucks to simulate an urban battlefield.
The army says being a chaplain in combat is among the most
dangerous jobs because the chaplains move from base to base
ministering to soldiers.
"Once you move behind the vehicle, the chaplain, who has no
weapon, will stay behind the engine block or the wheel base. That
is the safest place for you to be,” the instructor yells to the
long line of chaplains who are readying to run this course.
On the battlefield, chaplains look just like any other soldier.
Decked out in camouflage and body armor, the only addition is a
two-inch patch signifying their religious affiliation. Christian
clergy wear a cross, Jewish clergy tablets showing the Ten
Commandments.
A cross patch signifies a chaplain's religious affiliation.
What they do not have is a weapon.
Chaplains are unarmed at all times.
They travel in combat with a chaplain assistant who carries a
weapon and protects the clergy member.
For this drill the chaplains are learning to hold onto the back of
their assistant as they run from obstacle to obstacle.
The pairs have to stay low and move through the course two pairs
at a time. The chaplain assistants have to cover the others as
they move.
“Cover me while I move!”
“Got you covered!”
Then they run and dive for cover.
Army chaplains must learn to run with soldiers.
"Hold onto him like this and you will not get separated or you
will be taken out. You are the target of opportunity. You stay on
him!" The instructor yells when a chaplain is separated from his
assistant.
This is about as far away from a suburban pulpit or seminary these
clergy can get.
“In school I'm used to sitting at a desk and reading and writing,
so it's definitely a little more physical,” 2nd Lt. Adri Bullard
said. She is a Methodist seminarian, pursuing a Master’s in
Divinity at the divinity school at Vanderbilt University.
“Being in grad school and trying to get your (degree) takes
discipline and the discipline is pretty steady throughout my life
right now. Getting up early, staying up late. These big booms,
that's the main difference. You really don't have those going off
at seminary or divinity school, hopefully,” she smiles and pauses
as explosions punctuate her points.
She is the smallest person on the range and sports the biggest
smile. What she lacks in physical stature, she makes up two-fold
in effort and energy.
Bullard is among 200 chaplains and chaplain hopefuls going through
various stages of chaplain school at any given time. In Bullard’s
class of chaplain candidates, the group covers a wide range.
“We’ve got two of our students who are actually in their 50s and
we have two that are 22,” said Chaplain Maj. Harold Cline, who is
an instructor.
Regardless of age, the candidates are put through their paces.
“When you’re working with soldiers, they’re in good shape. That’s
part of their business. If you’re going to minister to them and
work with them, rub elbows with them, you’ve got to be in good
shape as well.”
The U.S. Army employs around 2,900 chaplains. About half are
active duty and the other serve in the reserves. Eight-hundred
chaplains and chaplain assistants are deployed in the war on
terror and 300 of them serve in the Middle East and Afghanistan,
according to a spokesman.
In order to join the ranks, a member of the clergy also has to
meet the ordination requirements of their own faith and be
endorsed by them to join the military.
Bullard has at least a year of schooling to go before she can be
ordained in her church to serve as a full-time minister and an
active duty chaplain.
She said she felt the call to ministry in college, “(I) did some
of that in a congregational setting, yet felt like there was
something else I needed to be doing, maybe taking it to another
level in another setting. Military chaplaincy seemed to fit
that.”
Even in training she sees a parallel between her spiritual calling
and the military.
“You're helping to meet the most basic needs a person has to live
and thrive and flourish. I'm going to look for everyone around me
and make sure they're drinking water. I'll go get them water if
they need it. And that's scriptural,” she said, referring to a
passage in the gospels where Jesus talks about giving water to the
thirsty.
“So I think it's pretty easy to do ministry out here in the
beating South Carolina sun.”
The task at hand
In the Army, each combat unit is able to have a chaplain with them
if the commanding officer wants one. They report to that
commanding officer and are paid by the military for their
services.
The chaplaincy corps had to grow in a hurry as combat operations
increased in Iraq and Afghanistan over the last decade, said
Chaplain Carlton Birch, the spokesman for the chaplain corps.
It’s a long way from the start of the chaplaincy corps on July 29,
1775, under George Washington.
Today army chaplains minister to soldiers of all faiths regardless
of their own. They hold services in remote areas, connect a
soldier of another faith with a chaplain of their own, and conduct
ceremonies to send a fallen soldier home.
“They are the listening ear, they are there in times of crisis and
turmoil for the soldiers,” Birch said. “The value we hold dear is
to meet a person at their time of need.”
The danger of their job was brought home for many here last summer
when Chaplain Dale Goetz was killed when an improvised explosive
device struck the vehicle he was riding in Afghanistan.
He was the first chaplain killed in action since the Vietnam War.
“The danger is sometimes what gives us the credibility to minister
to our soldiers. They know we've been there. We've been there
with them. We've faced the fear,” Chaplain Capt. Karlyn Maschhoff
said.
Maschhoff is a seasoned chaplain with multiple tours to the Middle
East under her belt.
She came to Fort Jackson for another component of training –
moving from rookie status like Bullard to being a more senior
chaplain and helping those new to this unique ministry position.
Before September 11, 2001, she was writing Sunday school material
and doing mission work. “I came into the chaplaincy after the
events of 9/11. That made a profound impact on me when I saw the
need for chaplains,” Maschhoff said.
“It was a combination of patriotism and recognizing the needs of
soldiers as they climbed on those planes to go to a place where
they would be in harm’s way and I just felt the need to be with
them, to go with them. That is what led to me accepting the call.”
During her prior tours in Iraq she has seen the worst of war on
the battlefield and on the home front.
“My first deployment was in 2005-2006 and that was a tough period.
There was a lot of loss of life, a lot of bloodshed and a lot of
uncertainty. But then I also went back later in 2008 for a
15-month deployment and at that time you got to see things
improving. Incidents were happening, but you got to see
progress.”
“Losing soldiers is always tough,” she said. “Watching families
struggle through a deployment, yet you come on, you struggle on
together. You get through the tough days together. You continue
on. As a chaplain you bring hope for the future and that is our
message to our soldiers, that it's a dark day but it's going to
get better.”
Heading home the hard way
"In country if you're doing one of these it could be 100, 130
degrees, maybe even hotter," Cline barks as rookie chaplains learn
how to send a soldier home the hard way, with a dignified transfer
ceremony.
They practice with a flag-draped metal transfer case, identical to
the thousands of cases used to send slain soldiers home from war.
Before the transfer case boards the plane for the long flight
home, the chaplains say a prayer or hold a brief service.
“She may have moved on from this Earth, but she's still in my
heart," a chaplain in training says as he looks over the transfer
case.
Six soldiers pick up the case. They snap their heels together and
begin to move.
Chaplain Cline instructs chaplain candidates how to do a dignified
transfer for a soldier killed in action.
"You do not want to be the chaplain who is walking too slow in
front of an honors team,” Cline said. “Why? They're carrying the
body, they're carrying the transfer case, and even though the case
is relatively light, it's got a body in it and it’s full of ice,
so they're carrying a lot of weight. Don't slow them down and
don't make them hold that transfer case up while you're doing
something ceremonial."
The chaplain candidate puts his hand on the flag, bows his head,
and sends the solider off with a prayer.
Today is a drill, but the Army says in as little as two weeks,
these trainees could be doing the real ceremony on an airstrip in
Iraq or Afghanistan.
Days after our interview, Maschhoff was on a plane back to the
Middle East to begin her third tour, fully confident of her
mission from her commanders and from on high, “It's challenging
and you know there are tough times ahead, but you're there to do
what you've been trained to do. You're there taking care of
soldiers and it doesn't get better than that.”
–CNN’s John Person and Jonathan Schaer contributed to this report