Family members serve too

by Stan Lowe, Chairman (retired), Wyoming Veterans’ Commission
Tuesday, January 15, 2008 3:43 PM MST

It often is said that when someone goes into the military, his or her family -n parents, spouses, children n- also serve. Though they serve in a different way -n as families fulfill the vital role of home front supporters n- they indeed do serve.

This fact came as a startling revelation to noted novel author Frank Schaeffer and his wife Genie (but mainly to Frank) after their eldest son John enlisted in the Marine Corps fresh out of high school in 1998 -n without telling them.

The transition from no understanding of those who defend him to being a service person’s parent made a big difference in his thinking. So, Frank and John decided to write a book about it, called “Keeping Faith: A Father-Son Story About Love and the United States Marine Corps.”

It starts out with John going to boot camp and later taking other training. While John was learning to be a Marine, Frank was learning how to be a Marine parent.

Frank observed, “My son has connected me to my country in a way that I was too selfish and insular to experience before. I feel closer to the waitress in our local diner than to some of my oldest friends. She has two sons in the Corps.”

“Keeping Faith” became a national bestseller. Frank and John became famous on “Oprah,” “20/20” and “Nightline” and their book on the New York Times’ extended best seller list.

The book struck such a fervent chord among many Americans with family members in the military that Frank was virtually inundated with thousands of e-mail messages.

He worked nights until 2 a.m. reading and answering every one of those messages. He commented, “I’m beginning to think that I need my new correspondents a lot more than they need me.”

One of the e-mails was about Lt. Therrel Shane Childers, USMC, of Powell, the first to die in the Iraq War, felled by Iraqi soldiers masquerading as civilians in a civilian truck at Rumaylah.

Frank talked with Shane’s proud parents, Joe n- a retired Navy chief -n and Judy.

Judy spoke about Shane’s reaction to a newspaper anti-war piece that opined “nothing in Iraq is worth dying for.” He told his sergeant, “There are things worth dying for. Make sure you tell your Marines that!”

When John called Frank on Feb. 18, 2003 n- the day the Iraq War began -n saying he had volunteered to be deployed to Afghanistan (but don’t tell Mom), that initiated another difficult experience for Frank.

It prompted him to write another book. This time, though, it was about parenting a deployed Marine and how he dealt with that new experience. The book is called “Faith of Our Sons: A Father’s Wartime Diary.”

In writing it, Frank used the interesting technique of interspersing among his experiences parts of those e-mails he had received. 

The passion with which Frank narrates what he went through while John was in Afghanistan is compelling.

He said, “To passersby I may appear as if I am one of them, but I’m not. I am only pretending to be in the world around me, but my mind, heart, and soul are with my son, hovering over him, a phantom of anxiety unable to do more than beg unseen powers to protect him.”

Frank bitterly criticizes the national news media’s practice of “body bag” counting: treating the killed and wounded as numbers instead of honoring them by identifying them by name, home and outfit. Equally distressing is the reports’ cruelty to families: striking terror into their hearts, fearful that one of them might be theirs.

One day while driving his old truck, Frank turned on the radio and heard one of those reports. He stopped the truck. His hands were shaking. He felt as if he had been personally assaulted.

In the last Chapter of “Faith of Our Sons,” Frank states matter-of-factly, “John may have volunteered, but I was drafted. We have an all-volunteer military, but we, the platoon of parents, wives, children, and husbands of those who serve, are given only one choice: to love or not.

“Our job is to struggle with our fears in plain sight of the carefree lives we used to live, and in plain sight of our friends and leaders who have no direct involvement; no loved ones at risk … no skin in the game.”

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