Posted on 04/06/2003 8:46:08 AM PDT by Jakarta ex-pat
During wartime, questions confront Navy Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Sholtes: A Carson City mother whose son is in Kuwait wants to know what to expect if anything happens to her 21-year-old during the war.
A Marine at the Mountain Warfare Training Center north of Bridgeport is called to the side of his best friend’s wife. His friend, a Marine, has been killed, and he wants to know how to support his friend’s widow and her children, his godchildren.
When the war comes home to the small, tight-knit communities that surround the Mountain Warfare Training Center, Sholtes works to bring them comfort.
“As a chaplain, I am a teacher, a counselor and a social worker,” he said. “I do all kinds of things. I meet all these people and draw energy and faith from them. It is a privilege.”
For the past 18 months, the Navy chaplain has performed weddings, counseled homesick Marines, offered parenting and marriage classes, baptized babies, taught current events at Coleville High School, dedicated flagpoles and officiated at retired Marines’ funerals as far away as Bishop.
He also must prepare Marines and their families for the possibility of death.
“That’s the worst part of my job,” said Sholtes, 44.
The base hasn’t suffered losses, but the casualties have touched the lives of the 248 military personnel, 24 civilians and 30 contract workers.
“One of our Marines’ best friends was killed and he is the godfather of his kids. He had to go to the family,” Sholtes said. “A lot of that will be going on.”
Sholtes, whose previous tours included the 13th Marine Expeditionary Unit in Somalia for the evacuation of Mogadishu, said protocol requires a personal visit to the bereaved.
“There are no telephone calls, no telegrams,” he said. “A couple of people accompany the chaplain. They explain the benefits, what’s available to the family and leave the chaplain behind to provide whatever comfort I can.”
Sholtes sees his role as twofold.
“I try to find out what is the family’s faith background prior to the visit. I am familiar with most religions’ tenets on life after death, eternity, judgment and related issues. I discuss those issues with them to offer spiritual hope,” he said.
“At the same time, I initiate the grieving process by helping them to mourn and deal with the vacuum left behind.”
Promise to a mother
Sholtes has not had to perform the sad duty often in his 10-year military career, but invariably, he said, the families can’t believe what they are hearing.
“The news never sinks in right away,” he said. “I would rather be the one who comes later. When I do this, I can’t be their pastor because I was the bearer of bad news.”
But at the Marine Corps Warfare Training Center, there is no one else to go but Sholtes.
“A mother in Carson City whose son is in the Marines said, ‘If anything happens to my son, it is you who will tell me.’ I promised her I would. That’s another Marine I am looking out for.”
June Joplin who owns Comma Coffee in Carson City said Sholtes came in with a contingent of Marines after they learned she’d lost business from a customer upset with her support of the troops.
Her son, Marine Pfc. Clinton Darquea, 21, is in Iraq, but she isn’t sure where and hadn’t heard from him since war broke out. Her oldest son, 23-year-old Nicholas Darquea, is stationed with the Army in Southern California preparing for deployment to the Middle East.
“A whole bunch of Marines came in Sunday,” she said last week. “Chaplain Sholtes was with them. I wanted to know what would be done if something happened. You think about it all the time, it’s just there. I wanted to know would it be done privately. We’re enough of the ‘Truman Show’ around here as it is.”
She said Sholtes’ visit and the support of the other Marines reassured her.
“You see these casualties on television and I have to wonder, ‘Has the family been notified?’” she asked.
Courage under fire
Since the war began, the chaplain said his routine hasn’t changed.
He’s just busier.
“The phone rings more, people want to come in and talk,” Sholtes said. “Families want to know where their Marines are and I don’t have all the addresses yet.”
Sholtes said he accepted his role as one of the troops left behind, but at the same time he longed for the front lines.
“I very much want to be in the desert,” he said. “I wear this uniform, I want to know how well I will react. How will I ever know if I pass this test under fire? Will I crumble or will I be courageous? I want to be in the desert to help an 18- or 19-year-old who tells me, ‘Chaplain, I just killed somebody.’”
Sholtes, who was born in Hungary and came to the United States at 24, brings a passion to the job and support for the war that precludes any sympathy for protesters.
“I grew up under communism,” he said. “People don’t understand fear, how you can just disappear in a basement and be tortured and killed and never missed. How can people understand that when the worst thing that happened to them is that they got a speeding ticket or their girlfriend broke up with them?
“These are evil regimes,” he said. “Speaking for myself, I believe it is our moral obligation to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. That’s why these young Marines are willing to die.”
He said the anti-war movement hurts the troops.
“It breaks their hearts and makes them angry,” he said. “I pity the protesters, I feel sorry for them. They just hate the president. It’s not about the war; it’s about the president. Why didn’t they protest the bombing of Kosovo?
“We all pray for peace,” he said. “That’s the most common request I get, but don’t attack the people who are going. It really degrades their (troops’) morale to see their clergy protesting especially since the war actually started. I disagree with my colleagues who do that.”
The training center deployed 39 Marines to join combat operations in Kuwait with the 1st Marine Division on March 5 with a rousing sendoff that stretched 200 miles. The families who stayed behind are checked on regularly.
“We take care of them. If a trash can blows away, we put it back,” Sholtes said. “We fix their cars. If somebody notices that a child might need a new coat, we take care of it. When it comes to family, the Marines are the best employers.”
In addition to his duties on the base, Sholtes pastors the Presbyterian Church 54 miles away in Minden, and conducts Sunday services at the old Methodist Church in Coleville.
“Both of my churches are very, very pro-military, very pro-Bush,” he said. “The locals love the Marines. I have never seen civilians this close to military personnel. I cannot distinguish anymore between the base and the community. There is nothing happening in Antelope Valley that doesn’t involve the Marines or vice versa. It’s not we and them, it’s us.”
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.