I saw the parade pass by with the last soldier marching. I saw politicians stand by not in pride, but in shame as they recited the names of the dead and admitted their failure. I saw the marching band step in time to silence, no more hymns of glory could they play. I saw mothers and fathers say,...

The first stop on U.S. soil after a deployment is the airport. From there, it’s all downhill until you get to see your family and loved ones again. But the airport is its own scene when you’re a soldier in uniform. On my trip home, I’m reminded of the last time I was in the airport—returning...

I lean back in the chair and exhale a long breath of thick white cigar smoke into the night sky. It rises upward, swirls in a light breeze, and disappears. I think to myself, “Damn this is a good cigar, a good night, and a good place to be for these few moments.” Earlier today, I walked through...

My son has sent me a “Build-A-Bear.” Dressed in the latest digital camouflage ACUs.* (Build-A-Bear hasn’t yet caught up with multicam.) It came with a note in my eight-year-old’s handwriting: “Press left paw for I love you and I miss you.” Sure enough, when I press the left paw, my...

“You sargin or commandant?” a young Afghan lieutenant asks as he points to the cross on my chest. I try to explain what a chaplain is. In the end, he suggests Army mullah, and I agree. Not the most accurate description, but the most meaningful for him. Chaplain has little meaning for him.

When my youngest daughter was about two years old she came across a tattered paperback on our bookshelves, Ten Thousand Baby Names, and for a little while this was her favorite book. Drawn by the shining face of the baby on the cover, she brought it to me over and over and demanded that I read...

My prayer today is that I learn to stay a war atheist— my prayer today for each of us, for everyone in this nation, in this world, is that we all learn to be war atheists. I don’t believe in war anymore. My prayer today is that I never again succumb to fear, fear which seduces me to believe that...

We join together now in a time of meditation or prayer, spoken at first and then for a time in the peace that silence brings.

For their service and their sacrifice, we pause in the silence of memory and respect.