U.S. Navy photo by Lt. j.g. Kyle Terwilliger
Just after midnight in the new hours of Dec. 9, 1944, New Yorkers saw the British ship Monarch slip silently out of the harbor, carrying members of the US Army’s 125th Evacuation Hospital on their way to deploy to the front lines of Europe in World War II. Among them, another ordinary New Yorker, but extraordinary to me: my great-great-aunt Lt. Luella Cochran, who — although unaware of this at the time — was beginning a wartime tour of duty that would take her through England, France and Germany for a year and a half. Her first surgery as an anesthetist nurse was a leg amputation.
Faith was integral to enduring the war. Her first letter home let her mother know that she “went to Communion last Sunday, yesterday and will go tomorrow. So don’t worry. All is well.”
Her mother, Rosa, indeed had cause to worry, for she had already buried a child one world war prior. My great-great-uncle, PFC Joseph Lorenz, of the US Army’s American Expeditionary Force, Rainbow Division, was laid to rest in Suresnes, France, after making the Ultimate Sacrifice on Nov. 21, 1918, at the age of 21, after first sacrificing one of his legs.
Aunt Lou visited his grave twice during her deployment, following the footsteps of her Gold Star mother who visited as part of the historic Gold Star Pilgrimage of 1930, and preceding the footsteps of my mother, who visited her great uncle’s final resting place in 2015.
History books chronicle the ferocity of war, portraying the details of battles, successes and failures, and describing courageous and honorable actions by soldiers who exceed duty and secure freedom in the thick of combat. But what those black-and-white details don’t reveal is the unseen force at work: the origin of tide-turning courage, the source of the invisible protection, the embrace in which a soldier finds comfort. In the depths of fear, the throes of pain, the brutality of violence, the moments of jubilation, where do warfighters turn? Faith.
In 2006, nearly one hundred years after Lorenz’s death, the same unfathomable loss was suffered by Gold Star mother Laura De Roo. Her son, US Army Sgt. Gabriel De Roo, was killed by a sniper’s bullet in Iraq during the Global War on Terror.
Nicknamed “John 3:16” by his fellow soldiers, Sgt. De Roo dreamed of returning to Iraq in peacetime after the war as a pastor. Even at his young age, he valued eternal life beyond his earthly one, presciently telling his family, “If there’s a grenade, I’m going to be the first one on it. These other guys need more time to get right with God.”
Sometimes prayers come from above. My two married cousins — US Navy aviators Lt. Cdr. Chris and Lt. Cdr. Angie Baker — both piloted variants of the Lockheed EP-3, even flying missions on the same nights over Afghanistan for different squadrons. They each prayed mightily for each other and their crews on their respective missions, and knowing they were in God’s hands brought them security. Both made it home safely.
“Faith gives me a chance to focus on what’s important to get the mission done,” Chris told me. They also prayed for the warriors below, at times seeing the flash of firefights. The soldiers below called them the “eyes in the sky,” but perhaps didn’t know they were being covered — not just by air power — but also in prayer.
US Army SFC 18/Z Green Beret Jeremiah Wilber grew up on a Native American reservation in Montana, where he repeated a seemingly meaningless phrase every time he felt fear, carrying the phrase throughout his entire life. He learned what the phrase meant during the thick of a ferocious firefight in Iraq — as time slowed and the phrase presented in English: Jesus is always with me.
Sometimes the fight isn’t left on the battlefield. Sgt. Michael Verardo, US Army 85th Airborne, has endured over 100 surgeries and counting after being severely wounded by two IEDs in Afghanistan in the span of two weeks.
His catastrophic injuries continue to bring physical and mental challenges, and his incredible wife Sarah serves as his caretaker in addition to so much more. But faith keeps both her and Michael strong: “If it’s not good, God’s not done,” she says.
“Good” can looks different than expected. Col. Tim Karcher lost his legs in an IED explosion, three days after he took care of me while I was stranded in Sadr City, Iraq, as an NFL cheerleader on a USO tour in 2009. “God promised me eternal life! Not eternal legs,” he quipped. “But I know prayers saved my life.”
One of the central principles of Jewish faith is tikkun olam: “repairing the world.” US Navy Lt. Morgan Ortagus stood in front of the entire world as the US State Department spokesman, bold in her faith and modeling for the world an important visual symbol: A visibly pregnant, Jewish woman speaking out against human rights abuses, calling attention to the atrocities being committed against a Muslim minority population and showing the persecuted Uyghur women they were seen and supported.
And who ministers to the minister? “To this day, the greatest case of PTS I have witnessed was a fellow chaplain,” Col. Doug Collins reflected.
The psalmist tells us the Lord is our refuge and our fortress, our God in Whom we trust, under Whose wings we will be protected, His faithfulness our shield and rampart. For our warfighters, there is no greater test than the brutal demands of war. Violent battles and long deployments test resolve and courage; the anguish of loss due to the Ultimate Sacrifice and family separation distresses even the strongest hearts. Every role soldiers play in the constellation of combat requires above-and-beyond perseverance, determination and bravery. Sometimes miracles are required. But with God, all things are possible. The stories in my new book, “Under His Wings,” reveal just that.
Emily Compagno is the cohost of “Outnumbered”on the Fox News Channel. “Under His Wings: How Faith on the Front Lines Has Protected American Troops,” is out Nov. 26 from Fox News Books.