Remembering Chance Phelps (b. 14 July 1984, d. 9 April 2004), and all those who served the war against terrorism.

This is a tough subject, laced with vitrolic for some. We look back in history and easily criticise those in power for not speaking out against the atrocities of war. We say, more should have been said and done, and till today academics and various interest groups lobby their point of view. But what are we doing about the war that is still going on? The debate about the morality of war to disarm those who seek to terrorise others is not the question. I think instead of those who serve in the allied forces that represent all of us in this world where we want to walk in our streets, fly across the skies and go to work in peace without the fear of some extremist group planning to gun us down, bomb our offices or fly airplanes into our buildings.
After the events of 11 September, my own career took a direct hit and nose-dived with the economy and regional political play in the organisation I worked in. More than just those who lost loved ones were victims of these events. It included those who also lost jobs and opportunity as a result of the impact of those events on the global economy.

Chance Russell Phelps was born on this day in 1984, and after those events of 9/11 went on to join the US Marine Corps. But he had already decided this was something he could do with his life. On 9 April 2004, he was the turret gunner on a humvee in a convoy in Iraq. After the convoy was slowed by an IED, shots rang out and he responded with valour to draw fire to himself as well as provide cover for the others. He was struck and killed. A PFC with six ribbons showing how much action this 19 year-old had already seen, he was infact promoted to LCP but between 1 April and 9 April, that fact was lost between events. He was post-humously awarded the Bronze Star with "V", for valour in combat. The story of his repatriated remains and escort to his hometown of Dubois was recorded by LTC M. Strobl, which was circulated in the Internet and reached popular attention. This is what my reflections today are about: that we may not speak in ire about the war, but we can support and pray for those in active service there - military and civilian, who are sacrificing their lives for something greater than themselves. I often include these people in my prayer intentions, and am happy to add that watching the HBO Film, "Taking Chance", was very good in framing the context of why I do that. Not all of us can put up anti-war posters or taking our political views to air. We can actively reflect and pray about what is really important. That for me is remembering with respect, dignity and appreciation that sacrifice which is made by those who have put themselves at risk. I remember the media interest which followed this film's Emmy nomination, and picked up the brief profile of Chance Phelps made in the NYT online. It was more than just fascinating - not just about a young man's impact on the lives of so many people across the globe alone, but the underpinning truth about what we can do right and do well in honouring their sacrifice. It is indeed ironic, as LTC Strobl notes: that with the likes of more people like Chance, the world would not need to be at war.

I do not know what can console any friend, son or daughter, spouse or parent, who have lost a loved one as such. I have lost a son, a child, friend and a mother in very recent times. In our grief, we look past the rights and wrongs of our own lives, and just need to pause to honour the memory of the one we have lost. To bring their own lives into relevance in our present "now", even if they are far gone. To that effect, what Michael Strobl and Chance Russell Phelps have done is very remarkable. Grief is a very personal experience, and when this is shared, it is a very potent and empowering influence to elevate our own self-interest to that of sacrificial love. It is a coincidence, maybe, that I chanced on the recording and the DVD of "Taking Chance" today and watched it only to realise that today would have been Chance's 26th birthday. I can understand the pain anyone who has lost a loved one must feel when dates remind us of their absence, when walkways and empty chairs recall their being taken away from us, when smiles and scenes in our every day lives spark off a memory of them which is all serpia and fast fading into grey. For this reason, we do not want to forget, and what we write and speak and share of our innermost loss makes us feel alive again, even so that we can feel them once more. That sacred memory is more than any stone marker or lost footprint, washed anew by an act of simple faith made by a heartfelt prayer.