'Voices From the Front': the dying

The Oregonian ^ | November 28, 2004 | DAVID REINHARD

[hiho hiho]

Death, in the end, hovers over Frank Schaeffer's "Voices From the Front: Letters Home From America's Military Family." This is not a depressing book. Not at all. The letters are almost invariably uplifting, full of simple nobility and a certain kind of life-sustaining joy. But "Voices" is a book about war, and that inevitably means death -- killing the enemy, watching your countrymen being killed and contemplating the ever-present possibility of your own death.

Love letters, camp-life updates, care-package requests, notes of appreciation or longing -- the business of killing or being killed adds meaning to every communication in the book. Sometimes death is implicit, an unspoken backdrop. Sometimes it's explicit and immediate. Always it's present.

There's plenty of warrior bravado on display in "Voices." You'd expect no less. But what is impressive and, in a way, heartbreaking is the sensitivity and awareness. They worry about what war requires them to do or see, and what impact it will have on them in years to come. "These Iraqis are ruthless," Marine Cameron St. John writes from Iraq in March 2003. "They use civilians as human shields and wear civilian clothing, so that we will not engage them. This causes many innocent people to die. I hope [my brothers] and my own children (if I ever have any) do not have to witness the things we do in war. Dead bodies of Iraqi soldiers mixed in with women and children."

Worried a mechanical problem will keep him from manning the turret, an unidentified Marine wrote from Kuwait, "I guess I'm just not sure if it's a good thing that I should be so eager to go out and kill bad guys. I can't help but get worked up about it, kind of like a football game. I know that Saddam and his buddies DESERVE to be put to death, but is it good to want to be the guy to do it? Well, at least writing this down and getting it off my chest helped to make me feel better. Please don't think I'm going crazy or anything. I've just been sitting out in the desert too long."

Too often death comes to one of your own. Marine Cpl. Matthew W. Webster was fighting next to Lt. Therrel Shane Childers when he became the first American to die in Iraq. "I've never seen anyone die before," Webster wrote a week later, "especially someone as close to me as him. . . . He was probably one of the best Marines and men I've ever known. I'd never been so scared in my entire life. I've never felt so all alone. One minute he was there fighting, the next he was gone."

"Voices" contains many love letters, but none is more beautiful than the one Marine Sgt. Aaron White wrote to his wife, Michele, and daughter, Brianna: "I have to tell you, as we grow close to war, I really have some strong fears. Fears of dying, of being crippled, burned, gassed, and of never seeing my two women again. What keeps me up at night is thinking you may never know what you mean to me. I can't explain it [in] my words just how much a part of me you have become. I'll do my best to show you when I come home. If I don't come home, please tell Brianna that her daddy loves her more than life and that I am so proud to be her daddy."

Aaron White was killed in Iraq two days after Brianna's first birth day.

Collections of war letters inevitably include a special -- and awful -- kind of letter. This is one to the parents of Cory Mracek. "Although I have not lost a child, I felt that I lost three sons last week and the pain will always be there," wrote Lt. Col. Bruce Parker, an 82nd Airborne Division battalion commander. "Your son was a paratrooper, friend, and big brother in the company. I want you to know that Cory was not alone when he died, and that he did not suffer. He was a warrior who died doing what he believed in, and he was a terrific paratrooper."

Are these letters tough to read? Yes. Are they macabre or maudlin? Not really. Mracek's mom ended up asking what her son's company needed and sending cookies.

There is, finally, an account of Marine Chance Phelps' last journey home. It's told by Lt. Col. Mike Strobl, who escorted this fallen warrior's body from Baghdad to its final resting place. It's an amazing story of love, reverence and faithfulness by Marines and nonmilitary Americans on the trip from Dover, Del., to Dubois, Wyo. It alone would be worth the price of this fine book. It alone should make you proud to be an American.

[bboop]

It is a great book. Schaeffer is a tremendous writer. Our son has been talking about joining the Marines, so I picked up his first book -- about when his son joined the Marines out of a prep school. This book, Letters Home, is very moving, very touching. I gave it to a friend who is anti-War. You cannot help but admire these young people who are giving their best to protect our country.

[Lion in Winter]

I believe he is the son of the famous Presbyterian theologian Dr. Francis Schaeffer.

However, Frank Schaeffer is a convert to Greek Orthodoxy. One of our nephews read one of his books about that Church, became interested, converted and is considering the Priesthood.

[bboop]

Yes, he is Francis Schaeffer's son. And a wonderful writer.

[Lady In Blue]

Thanks for this thread.Just found it after I ordered the book from amazon.com. I was listening to Captain Dale Dye(sp?)this evening.He had the author on and I was so impressed with the parts of the book that he read that I had to order the book. I wanted to post a thread on the book showing a picture of the book but couldn't figure out how to do it.