Five years ago....

Yesterday was a great day on many levels. First and foremost, it was the Resurrection Day of our Saviour. It was also my greatly adored little brother's 26th Birthday! Happy, happy Birthday, Scott!! We love you!! In addition, yesterday marked the 5 year anniversary of the "Ambush of the 507th".

One of my dearest friends, and fellow blogger, asked if I'd consider posting about that day; at risk of being labeled a bore, I'll attempt to put in writing our experiences during the days leading up to and following the ambush.

Sunday, March 23, 2003 started early. The kids and I had stayed the night in Moab, Utah, on our way back to El Paso, after spending Spring Break visiting family in Salt Lake City. Matt had enlisted in the Army (for the third time!) several months earlier and had deployed with his Battalion in February. We all missed him terribly and needed to do something fun to distract us from Matt's absence. I had intended to start heading home a couple of days earlier, but the kids had all been sick during our visit, so we stayed an extra day. Between the six kids we had four kids with Strep throat, three with bronchitis, and two with walking pneumonia. What a fun time we had running between the local Urgent Care clinic and the pharmacy! Our little Banana was just days shy of 5 months old, and was one of the kids diagnosed with bronchitis earlier in the week. I spent most of Saturday night hovering over her while she slept next to me, her nursing was weak and she didn't seem very hungry. We loaded the van and continued heading south, stopping in Gallup, NM, so the kids could run around in the McDonald's Playland.

As I held Banana I noticed that her breathing didn't feel right; she felt like she was tugging with each breath. I debated whether we'd get the best care for her in Albequerque (an hour's drive) or back in El Paso (6 hours), and decided if the Gallup hospital was right on the way, we'd stop and have her checked, otherwise we'd continue on to Albequerque. The blue hospital sign on the side of the road made the decision for me. I checked little Banana in and the older kids spread out across the exam room floor with color books while we waited for the doctor. Within half an hour Banana had been diagnosed with severe pneumonia and put on oxygen. The doctor informed me that we could anticipate up to a week before she would be ready to leave the hospital. A week in a strange town with an oxygenated, nursing infant, and five older kids. Leaving my baby alone in a hospital while I slept in a hotel with the other kids was not an option, but I had no idea what else to do.

I used the phone in the exam room to call my in-laws to let them know where we were and what was going on. When I finished filling my father-in-law in, he asked me if I'd been watching the news. Of course, since we'd been on the road all day, I hadn't. He then told me that the 507th had been ambushed that morning and that there were several soldiers killed and several taken POW. He'd already been in contact with our commander's wife, who confirmed that Matt was involved in the ambush, but that his status was unknown. I don't think we can ever be adequately prepared to hear words that could change our lives forever. How can something as intangible as spoken words have the power to alter our realities? At the very moment I heard those words my world split in two. The inconceivable had violently forced its way into my ordered little universe. As uncertain as the future appeared at that moment, I was absolutely certain of one thing. My husband was not one of the dead. He might be wounded, or he might have even been captured, but he wasn't dead. I knew he would be coming home, and nothing could have dissuaded me otherwise. During my quiet prayer time before the deployment, the Lord had given me absolute peace about Matt coming home. He also impressed on me to pray Psalm 91 for Matt every day during the deployment, and I did. My biggest fear was that Matt would be identified as one of the POW's and that he'd suffer horrific abuse that would psychologically alter him. I knew he was coming home, I just didn't know in what condition.

Making sure we were in that hospital at that very time was the most loving thing God could have done for me. The hospital staff were unbelievable! After hearing the news, one of the nurses took the older kids on a tour of the hospital so I could have time to make phone calls to the rest of my family. Another one ordered food to be delivered for the kids since it was after 8:00 and we hadn't eaten. Without exception, every doctor and nurse we saw during our stay took the time to tell me they were praying for Matt and for us. When Banana was ready to go to her room, one of the nurses came in to tell me the hospital administrator had approved them clearing out a large room and moving extra beds in there for all of us. They brought up pj's, towels, and toothbrushes, and they let Banana sleep in my bed so I wouldn't have to get up to nurse her. "A" was in the room when I spoke with my father-in-law, but none of the other kids had a clue that anything was amiss, other than their baby sister being sick.

My darling sister was able to find one open seat on a flight from my mother-in-law's home to Albequerque, so Mom-in-law flew in and drove to Gallup the next day. That she was able to find a seat at all during spring break and at the last minute, was more evidence of God's loving hand over us. I was so humbled by her willingness to drop everything and come to us, without even knowing if I was going to have to give her devastating news about her son.

Shortly after Mom-in-law arrived, the Diabetic Education nurse came into the room, introduced herself, and invited Mom and the kids to stay at her house. She was a widow and had a large home and wanted to do something to help us. She and Mom hit it off, so the kids packed up and left with Grandma. I've never before experienced the level of love and caring that the staff at that hospital showed us. It was such a gift from God. One afternoon an employee came in our room and offered to take our laundry downstairs and wash it for me. She knew we were living out of suitcases and wanted to help. Countless people from nearly every department stopped in to check on Banana and let me know they were praying for us. An employee from the local grocery store brought in bags of food and snacks (I think my darling sister was behind that, but she's never really fessed up!). Nurses came and took the kids out to play in the park so Mom and I could have a few minutes of down-time. One employee brought in a portable dvd player and a stack of Veggie Tales and Disney movies for the kids to watch during the long days. The hospital Vice President personally visited us and brought an age appropriate book for each one of the kids to read on the way home. The hospital Chaplain gave me a little pewter box shaped like an angle with an angel pin inside to wear as a reminder of her prayers for Matt's safe return. There really was no better place for us to be that week, than in that hospital.

I spent the evenings reading my Bible, praying, and trying to write to Matt. I refused to watch the news and everything else on tv seemed completely inane. My husband was, literally, God-only-knows-where. My baby was very, very sick. And my other kids needed to be shielded from what was going on until I knew for sure what really was going on.


Banana made a recovery the doctors deemed remarkable and we were able to check out on Wednesday afternoon. I'd been told that the official list of KIA's, MIA's and POW's would be released sometime that day, so we headed out knowing that we wouldn't have specific information until we made it home to El Paso. I think the first thing Mom and I did, after walking in the front door, was turn on CNN. Within minutes we saw the confirmed list and cried with relief that Matt's name wasn't on any of them. But Jessica Lynch's was. Jessie was Matt's clerk and driver. Knowing she was missing, while he wasn't, kept me praying all the more for him. My darling husband won't even pretend to be progressive. He firmly believes, as do I, that men are meant to be the natural protectors of women. Men have an instinctive desire to shield and protect us from danger. I knew that seeing Jessie taken by the enemy would have been very difficult for him; he would have personally borne all the responsibility for anything she suffered from that point on. So I continued praying Psalm 91. When I realized that Jessie and Matt were riding in separate vehicles at the time of the ambush, I knew it was further evidence of God's protection.

The following Monday, as Mom and I were enjoying a morning cup of coffee, the phone rang. My "Hello?" was answered with "Hey, Babe!", and, for the second time in 8 days, my world seemed to come to a screeching halt. I was so flooded with emotions, I could hardly breathe for a moment. Time stood still. And once again, God's goodness shone brightly. Matt's mom was there, so she was able to talk with her son before flying home a couple of days later. As a mom, I know how much that meant to her and I was so grateful for the perfect timing of that call. During our conversation Matt shared many of the details of the ambush, and I was left speechless at how Divinely protected he really had been. So many details all worked together to put him exactly where he needed to be. From his personal truck breaking down, to the truck he was squeezed into, to the next truck he was put in, to the position of that truck in the convoy line, to the fatigue of his substitute driver. Everything perfectly orchestrated to place Matt exactly where God needed him.

Because of his actions and leadership in the moments following the ambush, Matt was credited with saving the lives of 4 of the wounded soldiers, while putting himself at mortal risk due to mortars being fired at him as he worked to stabilize and move the wounded. He was awarded the Bronze Star with V-Device for Valor in a nationally televised ceremony in July. Needless to say, we were all very proud of him. In the weeks and months following the ambush, Matt and I both had several opportunities to share our experiences through television and newspaper interviews. It was exciting to be able to talk to so many people about the fact that God was very much present in the midst of the chaos and devastation. Not to ever make light of the senseless and mind-numbing loss, but He was there. Ten of our soldiers came home draped in the American flag, as did nineteen Marines. It was ugly and mind-bogglingly painful. But God was there.

Two days after the ambush a group of Marines was sent in to recover whatever they could from the remaining vehicles. The truck carrying Matt's gear had been hit and almost everything in it destroyed. The only things the Marines were able to salvage for him were his toothbrush and his unscathed Bible. He'd someday like to have a shadow box displaying both his award and that Bible, opened to Psalm 91. "Though a thousand may fall at your side and ten thousand at your right hand, it will not come near you...For He will give His angels charge over you to protect you in all your ways. With their hands they shall support you lest you strike your foot against a stone...Whoever clings to me I will deliver; whoever knows my name I will set on high. All who call upon me I will answer. I will be with them in distress. I will deliver them and give them honor." Matt lived these verses. The soldier sitting next to him, who was the only licensed truck driver and should have been at the wheel instead of Matt, was hit in the face with glass and had shrapnel in his foot. Matt didn't have a scratch. I could almost hear the Psalm being sung in the background as he walked me through the details of that day. Guns pointed at his head, bullets flying through the windshield and out the back, glass shattering, mortars exploding and sending dirt and debris flying. So much chaos, and he didn't even strike his foot against a stone. Both physically and psychologically, he was completely protected.

It doesn't seem possible that five years has passed since that day. Yet, on the other hand, it seems like a lifetime ago. I pray that we all really become a praying people. Praying for the thousands of families living every day with the painful void of a beloved soldier. Praying for our leaders and the leaders around the world. Praying for peace. And praying that in any way He chooses, we each might be instrumental in the name of our God being glorified throughout the earth.