Page 187 - Anthology

WHEN THE CHAPLAIN GETS KILLED

9 OCTOBER 2012
The Rev. Chris J. Antal

Last night I had dinner at the Goetz Dining Facility (DFAC) at Forward Operating Base (FOB) Walton,
which is a short helicopter flight from Kandahar, Afghanistan. Before the meal, I raised a “near beer” (non-
alcoholic) with a chaplain colleague to toast Dale Allen Goetz, the Army chaplain after whom the DFAC is
named. Chaplain Goetz died in Afghanistan on August 30, 2010, not far from FOB Walton, and is the only
military chaplain from the United States killed in action since 1970, when Phillip Arthur Nichols was killed
in Vietnam.

I remember when I got the news that Chaplain Goetz had been killed. I was in the passenger seat of our
family mini-van, my wife was driving, and our five kids were in the back. We were on our way back from a
vacation in the Adirondack Mountains of New York. I was a few months short of accessioning as an Army
chaplain, and the whole family was beginning to prepare for my first deployment to Afghanistan, which at
that time seemed likely to happen sometime before spring. The notification came to my Blackberry from
the Department of Defense List serve: “Captain Dale A. Goetz was killed when his vehicle was hit by a
roadside bomb.” The notice said nothing about Captain Goetz being Chaplain Goetz, but a quick search
of his name on Google revealed a more complete story.

When I learned Dale Goetz was a chaplain my gut tightened, and I wanted to vomit. My first thought
concerned my own mortality: I had not until that moment acknowledged the real risk I would face going to
Afghanistan as a chaplain. The next thought was about the unit served by Chaplain Goetz -- the soldiers
of the 1-66 Armored Battalion of the Fourth Infantry Division. When a soldier dies, the unit turns to their
chaplain for comfort, hope and guidance. Their chaplain performs the memorial ceremony for the unit and
provides grief counseling to individuals. In the horror of war the chaplain is a reminder to many of a
loving and compassionate God who is present even amidst terrible suffering. But what does it mean when
the chaplain gets killed? How do soldiers cope with the existential angst that must arise from such a
tragedy -- the very angst, which in the moment I heard the news, was making me nauseous.

When the chaplain gets killed some will face one of life’s most perennial questions: why do bad things
happen to good people? When the chaplain gets killed some will question the invincibility of “the armor of
God” (Ephesians 6: 10-18) which fails to protect God’s very own representative. When the chaplain gets
killed some will face the dreadful realization that we are all vulnerable and nobody is really safe. When
the chaplain gets killed -- the chaplain who is a non-combatant and carries no weapon -- some will ask
where is justice? Where is fairness? When the chaplain gets killed some will examine previously held
assumptions: “God is on our side,” “God will protect us,” “God will not let anything bad happen to us,” and
“In God we trust,” -- and perhaps reject long held beliefs.

Yes, when the chaplain gets killed many will suffer moral injury -- defined by Jonathan Shay as “a
betrayal of what is right.” And sometimes a moral injury can be the most debilitating wound of war -- the
wound that is most difficult to heal. To heal from moral injury we need to give meaning to tragedy which
might otherwise be inherently meaningless. I have made the tragic killing of Chaplain Goetz meaningful to
me by reflecting on his death, examining some of my assumptions, and correcting false views. I am glad
for the simple memorial of the Goetz DFAC at FOB Walton, which reminds me of his death, and the
sacrifice made by his wife, Christy, and their three sons. I thank and honor Dale Allen Goetz for helping
me, in his death, move beyond self-deception towards a more right view of warfare and a greater
reverence for life.