Introduction by Lisa Morgan
United States Naval Reserve Lieutenant Commander, Frank Riley, left his home, family and a church that calls him “Pastor Frank” to serve in active duty on the front lines of Iraq and Afghanistan as an unarmed chaplain to America’s finest. Lieutenant Commander Riley’s honest reflections represent the everyday realities and perspectives of those brave men and women on the front lines. Please remember them and their families as we embrace everyday American freedoms that most of us have never had to live without or sacrificed anything to enjoy.
“We wear that Chaplain cross. People notice it right away, and know what we’re there for. It’s not uncommon for people to pull you aside. All of a sudden, you find yourself having a spiritual conversation. Because you wear the uniform, you’re going to have access in a way that no one else has. You can go anywhere as a Chaplain. That is a great gift. But with that, comes a great responsibility. We want to make sure that each person has the right and the ability to worship as their own faith dictates. And for me, that’s a sacred duty.”
— Chaplain Frank Riley, LT, USNR
By Lieutenant Commander Frank Riley aka “Chaps”
I had brought my two children to the pit that had once been the site of the World Trade Center. On this winter’s night, the temperature was just below freezing, the hour late, and the site deserted. Still, it was important for us to be there. It was this place and the events that unfolded here that were about to directly impact my little family, as I was to begin a journey that would include combat deployments to both Iraq and Afghanistan. We needed to be here, to linger and to think about the great loss that had occurred here. It was also a time to contemplate and prepare for the impending loss of our time together, not just for our family but also for so many like us serving in our Nation’s armed forces. For some, that time of separation would only be for a season. For others, that time of separation would be for a life time, as the specter of loss of life overseas loomed immediate and real.
Years later, I would be looking back on that night, far from home, a veteran of one campaign, now donning the combat gear of flak and Kevlar (bullet proof vest and helmet), for a flight that would take us into Afghanistan. The mood was somber, as each service member joined one of two lines, each step taking us toward danger as we walked on board the aircraft. Seated now with the others, the thought struck me that I was in unique company. Together, each of these Americans had volunteered and were willing to give their life for our country. It was an exclusive group here, but not an unexampled gathering for the Nation, as time and time again, from the Revolution through two world wars, Korea and Vietnam, others had formed the same lines.
Thinking about those who had risked or given their lives for my country, I was reminded that we often define too lightly the terms “Patriot” or “Hero”. Oh, many will love, believe and support our country, history and ideals. While that may reflect being patriotic, a patriot will take it a step further. A patriot is one who combines their love of country with a willingness to give their lives for it. As to a hero? A hero is one who braves real threat to self or life for the sake of others. On that horrible day of September 11, 2001, terror and fear struck those within the World Trade Center. A majority were victims of terrorism. On that day, there were those who survived as well as those who paid the ultimate price, shaking off fear with a determination to help others.
In this war on terror, members of the armed forces stood up not only to protect your country, but for the people in far off lands as well. There was the forward surgical team who raced to save the lives of two children who had been on their way to school and been drenched with acid by the Taliban. There were the teams in the country that had set up agricultural projects, and courts of law and building projects, including schools, to allow the people of that place to have a chance at the freedoms we seek constantly to protect and defend for ourselves. There were dangers on every side, and in many places, incessant attack. And yes, there were fallen men and women; military service members of our Nation who had paid the ultimate price for not only our freedoms, but so others might have a chance for them as well.
Having experienced sniper attack, rocket fire and road side explosions, the day came when I found myself returning from war. There had been times when I did not believe I would return, and times when I grieved for those escorted home as fallen heroes. The season definitely changed me. In some ways I was quieter in spirit; in other ways more restless. My love of country had grown, as well as my understanding of those two terms: Patriot and Hero. On the backside of war, being a patriot or a hero was no longer as important as remembering patriots and heroes. And with that had come an understanding of the price and return of our conflict. I thought perhaps, the price of freedom is not always about winning it absolutely, as much as it is absolutely giving a people the chance for freedom.
Leaving Afghanistan, it dawned on me that I was departing from one nation with a chance for freedom, to my own nation with a chance to guard freedom. How will both stories end? We never know on this side of history! And there lies the truth, the question is not how will the story end, as much as what we do with the chances that the patriots and heroes of our nation have transferred to our keeping?
