My good friend, The Honorable Allen B. Clark of Dallas, TX, gave this speech entitled, "Between Two Worlds," to the cadets in Cadet Chapel at the United States Military Academy at West Point, on October 30, 2011.
I wanted you to read it. Allen is clear in his message of hope that he discovered in Jesus Christ Who has brought healing of his soul, and deliverance from severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He is a genuinely born again Christian and a disciple of Jesus Christ. You will laugh, cry, and shout as you read this speech. He is available for speaking engagements.
Allen and his wife, Linda, are both Spirit-filled and empowered Christians. They have asked me to be their pastor. I am honored and humbled by that request and the relationship God have given me with them since I met them in San Antonio, TX, at the MCA (Military Chaplains Association) and National VA Hospital Chaplains Convention in the spring of 2007.
I consider Allen Clark to be a Great American, a hero of the Vietnam War, and a man who gave both legs on the battle field. We are blessed indeed to live in the United States of America. Let us recognize and proclaim to all that we owe a debt of gratitude to those young men and women who have been willing to lay down their lives for our freedoms. What a price Allen has paid, and we must bow our heads in humility acknowledging the fact we can never repay this heroic leader for the sacrifice he has made.
"Between Two Worlds"
It is a distinct privilege and honor for me to be your guest today back at my beloved West Point on the occasion of the 143rd annual presentation of our Holy Bible to members of the Corps of Cadets by the American Tract Society whose President and CEO is Dr. Chris Nogueira. Dr. Nogueira and Chaplain Michael Durham are responsible for my invitation and it will always be one of the highlights of my life.
Held very joyfully and delightedly in my hands is the Bible gifted to me in the fall of 1959 when I was a plebe. It is not my recollection whether I was present in that service or teaching Sunday School that day to my class of five year olds which I taught all my four years here. I figured they would not push me theologically or doctrinally at that age. In other words they couldn’t ask me any question I could not answer.
At 0430 hours on June 17, 1967 at Dak To Special Forces “A” camp in the Central Highlands of the Republic of South Vietnam in the eleventh month of a twelve month tour I was between two worlds, a place many of us experience at times of our lives.
A battalion of North Vietnamese regular Army Communists had ambushed the previous week two of our Special Forces patrols a few miles west of our camp. Several Americans were killed. In my Military Intelligence officer assignment in Detachment B-57 of Fifth Special Forces I was undercover conducting intelligence collection against the privileged sanctuary of Cambodia, Vietnam’s western neighbor. With the heavy enemy infiltration into our area of operations my agents could not and would not go on any missions into the triple canopy jungle to our west toward the Ho Chi Minh Trail.
My commanding officer was arriving by air at 0930 hours from Saigon, the country’s capitol, to remove me from the camp. I was five hours from safety. My operation was closed down and he did not want me killed or captured due to the expected upcoming heavy enemy activity in the area necessitating the movement of the 173rd Airborne Brigade in that morning to take on the enemy. My final duty before departure was the last two hour night shift in the inner perimeter when a heavy mortar and rocket attack began raining shells into our camp. I began grabbing men to man our mortar positions, return fire, and shoot flares into the air to be able to spot what was expected to be a forthcoming enemy ground attack.
Suddenly I was thrust straight down on the ground to my front without executing a graceful parachute landing fall. Two Green Beret sergeants, hearing my cries for help, took me on a litter into the nearby bunker of our team medic Sgt. Jimmy Hill, who was wounded with a piece of shrapnel in his left shoulder blade seconds before I arrived. Even with his own wound Sgt. Hill saved the life of this apparently and probably dying captain whose blood pooled one inch deep on his bunker floor. Jimmy went out under the barrage to obtain plasma and morphine for me. An Air Force officer was propped up on the floor right beside me with a mortar fin having made a direct hit on his head. My Silver Star citation states that I told Sgt. Hill, “I am dying, take care of the other wounded first.” I will never know why I was so magnanimous under that horrific circumstance.
Obviously I lived through the ordeal, but let me reminisce about my life pre-attack. It was my good fortune to have been a contented Army brat who had tunnel vision about attending this rock-bound highland home from about eight years of age. My excitement about obtaining admission to the Academy in fulfillment of my childhood dream was so strong that I accepted a congressional principal nomination during my junior year of high school and entered in the class of 1963 as the youngest member of my class of 760 cadets. I truly was a high school “hdrop out” entering here after eleventh grade!
Back to 1967 my world changed when that mortar round exploded apparently about eighteen inches to my left rear severing my left leg traumatically below the knee. The right leg was broken in five places so it was amputated ten days later. Here I was a twenty five year old captain with an attitude at a height of 4’6” tall with one massive challenging life stretching out before me.
In my next fifteen month assignment of rehab at Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio I endured extraordinary pain and discomfort alleviated the first six weeks by a morphine shot every three hours. As if the physical and medical challenges of twelve surgeries were not enough, after eight months I cratered emotionally with severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that brought me fourteen weeks in a closed psychiatric ward. Six agonizing years followed with psychiatric visits and anti-depressants.
After being invited here today I went and found my Bible from 1959. A book mark was at John 3:16, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” As a teenager I understood, appropriated in my spirit and life, and truly believed that verse. Had I died at Dak To, I had heaven as my final duty assignment for sure. There was no question in my mind that God sent his Son to die on that cross at Calvary 2000 years ago so that I and all others who believe that message will live forever in the spirit. Jesus had been my Savior, but He needed to become Lord of my life for me to begin my deep healing process. My transition into this new world of understanding Jesus’ Lordship began in the middle 1970s. When I had my breakdown in 1968, the strength of my faith had not progressed for me to escape the abyss of emotional and spiritual trauma.
Classmate Andy Seidel and his wife Gail in 1973 invited me to their church only six blocks from my home. I was stuck and my typical previous excuses that churches were too far away to attend was not going to work that time. One day the pastor began to talk about the ultimate war for all time for all of us being that on the strategic level in the heavens between God and the Devil, between good and evil. I was moved in that sermon as never previously when I glanced over at the American flag in the sanctuary and began to tear as all of a sudden I grasped that I had been a good and faithful soldier who had almost died fulfilling my duty to my country and the cause of freedom. I had been loyal to my earthly Commander-in-Chief, but had been totally absent on the really important battlefields of life, that of the spirit.
My warfare for the previous six years had been in the spiritual realm as defined by intrusive thoughts of fear, anger, anxiety, bitterness, and sadness. During my struggle to regain my emotional balance my spiritual dimension had taken a back seat to learning to walk without falling and regaining my self-confidence. My bodily healing in Caesar’s world was making progress, but my God’s world healing had been woefully lacking.
That day, my primary allegiance changed to my spiritual Commander-in-Chief, my God in heaven, my Creator of all that is in the universe. Quantum leaps began in the understanding and maturation of my faith. One of the most practical spiritual truths learned was the incredible power we have by committing all needs and desires of our heart to prayer. What followed was the ascendance of my belief in the power of prayer to my Father in Heaven in the Name of Jesus for all things to include close-in parking spaces. I began to take to heart I Thessalonians 5:17, “Pray without ceasing.” Why not always give prayer a chance? Think of the unceasing efforts we exert on Caesar’s world efforts like study, athletics, and chasing members of the opposite gender. God desires to be asked and when we ask, he will pull out all stops to answer our prayers, if they also fit into his will for us. He has done that for me most assuredly sometimes even before I have formally sent the prayer upwards.
Our Lord God desires to help us in all avenues of our lives. Prayer is powerful, more powerful than all the weapons and armies of the world. I trust in my God when it is written in John 15:7, “If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you.” His words can only abide in you if you read, study, and heed them. You must open this great book throughout your life, believe in it, and attempt to live by what is in its pages. In II Timothy 3: 16-17 it is written, “All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: That the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works.” Studying the words of our Holy Bible leads us to perform Christ’s work desired for us to accomplish. I have always had many needs. I have needed to be corrected, have needed to live righteously, have needed not only to do things right, but to do the right things. When you need direction, ask God in the Name of Jesus for wisdom and insight as to how to proceed.
But, getting things from God is not just like a piggy bank. There is a catch. A comedienne, Gilda Radner, wrote a book titled Its Always Something. To receive answers to our prayers there are some basic criteria to be met. In I John 3:22 it is written, “And whatsoever we ask, we receive of Him, because we keep His commandments, and do those things which are pleasing in His sight.” The commandments are pretty well-defined. It is the pleasing things that are more difficult. Our conscience must be our guide.
However, above and beyond beginning to apply the tactical basics of a Christian life well-lived from the teachings of this magnificent book, our Holy Bible, for my own strategic knowledge level, I began to advance beyond the basic and advanced course level to Army War College level education.
The following is some of what I learned that is important to all of us to understand and survive in this cold and cruel Caesar’s world about Battlefield Earth.
When Adam and Eve succumbed to Satan’s temptation to disobey God (6000 years ago in the Garden of Eden), a battlefield on earth was established. The struggle between good and evil and darkness and light has ensued in the hearts and minds of men and women since that fateful day. If we think the Communists and Nazis wanted domination, it was mild compared to the complete authority over the earth and us desired by our adversary Satan. His ultimate goal is to rule and reign in the place of God. Luke 4: 5-6 tells us that Satan tempted Jesus and “…showed unto Him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time,” adding the chilling phrase “…for that is delivered unto me.” In other words Satan had ownership of the world up to that time.
Thankfully, Christ rejected Satan’s offer and continued on to His sacrifice on the cross. He leveled out the battlefield by retaking the high ground of control of Mother Earth previously controlled by Satan and his angels who had fallen to earth with him in the rebellion against God in heaven (Rev. 12:4).
We are all continually being tested, generation after generation, to separate those who prove worthy by faith, not just good works, for admission into the eternal kingdom. Once I grasped this, I wanted to have that final gift of eternal life. Just as we military soldiers are continually tested here, in training, and combat, so too are we in our daily lives. If we desire success in the daily battles and struggles of life, we must be as disciplined in God’s ways as we are in the military’s ways.
We are all sinners in one way or another at different times in our lives. Romans 3:23 tells us, “For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.” When we sin, we can attain restoration first by identifying our sins. Secondly, we must confess and repent of our sins. In I John 1:9 it is written, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” Thirdly, we must turn and sin no more. With this spiritual process we achieve balance and peace and are restored to the state intended for us. We take back the ground won from us by our sins.
Our ultimate enemy Satan desires us to be dysfunctional, confused, addicted to substances or other evils, and filled with fear and anger for then we become a part of his side of the battlefield and become traitorous to our Lord God. I had been on Satan’s side and needed to return to friendly lines. In I John 3: 8-9 it is written, “He that committeth sin is of the devil, for the devil sinneth from the beginning. For this purpose the Son of God was manifested, that he might destroy the works of the devil.”
Bad consequences in our lives are a result not only due to demonization because of our sins, but also due to the stupid and unwise choices we make in life and to false beliefs we acquire in times of trauma and injury. Injuries (both physical and emotional) cause us to be taken into emotional and spiritual captivity giving up our freedoms. It surely happened to me.
The goal always in our lives is to be returned to the “friendly lines” where God is back in command. This defines our everyday enemy and our everyday battlefield. There has to come a time in all our lives when it is time to get on God’s victorious side. Study of and living by the precepts of our Holy Bible is the only way to have spiritual victory. In my gifted Bible, the first page states, “…that men may know and love Christ…,” reflecting the ultimate purpose for this gift.
It was not necessary that I even had to go to that horrible war zone of Vietnam. My first wife had wanted me to resign my commission in my cherished U. S. Army and return to live the good life in Dallas, Texas. The assistant division commander of the Second Armored Division at Fort Hood asked if I would accompany him to Korea as his aide-de-camp. A tour there and return to the states might have fulfilled my commitment to the Army. But, you well know, our Academy’s motto of Duty, Honor, Country becomes ingrained in us and was uppermost in my mind. I had to take the harder right, not the easier wrong. I could not avoid or evade the pre-eminent defining event for all of us graduates of the ‘50s and the ‘60s, the Vietnam War.
Without consultation or telling my wife I volunteered for the war. Naturally my volunteering was accepted. This relates to differentiation of sin versus stupid. It was not a sin to volunteer for a war, but it surely was a stupid not to talk it over with her. As you proceed in life, remember God forgives all our sins when confessed, but we must be as consistent in forgiving ourselves for our stupids.
My presentation has obviously been very serious. War and peace, the cornerstones of our lives as soldier patriots serving the cause of peace and freedom, are somber and solemn subjects, but, believe it or not, my life has had its lighter moments.
In the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, as I was settling into fatherhood for my two daughters, Elizabeth and Christi, my prosthetic legs were not as advanced as they are today so off they went each day as soon as I returned from work and into my wheelchair I deposited myself attired in my Bermuda shorts. One evening for whatever perverse reason I was watching again that magnificent example of the ultimate in Marine propaganda, the John Wayne WWII war movie, “Sands of Iwo Jima.” My then six year old daughter, Christi, came, sat on my lap toward the end of the movie, got off, and stood in front of me. She asked, “Was that a war movie?” “Yes,” I answered. “Weren’t you hurt in a war?” Again I said, “Yes.” “Is that movie what a war was like?” I said, “No, we had no music in our war.” Then she said very wisely, “Well, Dad, next time you go to war, I want to go with you, but I will wait for you in the car.”
There is one aspect of my life where I have had great fun. I well recall that day in 1967 when the therapist came to my bedside and asked me with my new artificial legs how tall I wanted to be. I was elated. I had been 5’9” tall before my wounds and always looked up to my 6’2” tall father. I told him that was my goal. Then he said I actually should become shorter because I would walk better. With an attitude I retorted, “Then, why did you even ask me?” I settled on 5’8” tall until 1978 when I went on the staff of Texas Governor Bill Clements as his special asst. for administration and increased my height to 5’11”. Then, when I became one of hundreds of political appointees in Washington D.C. in 1989 in the administration of President George H.W. Bush, I went in to the prosthetic clinic and became 6’1” tall. When I went to work at the veterans medical center in Dallas in 1996, I increased my height to 6’2” tall, my current exalted and grand height. This anecdote has two morals, one, never give up on your goals in life and two, grow in all your jobs.
Sgt. Jimmy Hill, the Special Forces medic, who saved my life, never received a Purple Heart for his wound on June 17, 1967. When I discovered this, I told him I would pursue the award for him. He said, “Captain, you are my Purple Heart, I do not need a real one.” In April 2005 I rectified this in a surprise ceremony at my hospital where he was presented his long overdue medal by two Medal of Honor Recipients. When my daughter Christi, now grown up to age thirty three, hugged him, she told him, “Thank you for bringing my Daddy home.”
There is no good reason I should be able to be standing here before you this day, having been able to come home at all. That mortar round could have landed on my head or a few more inches away. In that case I could have taken mortal wounds in the abdomen, chest, or head. The two sergeants might not have been courageous enough to come under fire to rescue me. Sgt. Hill’s wound could have killed him and there would have been no medic to treat me. There might not have been the twenty Special Forces troops and Air Force personnel who answered the call to come in to the hospital to donate the blood type I required after my loss in the attack. I could have remained in therapy gulping down pills every day, but that all ended in the mid ‘70s. I asked Jimmy Hill once why he thought I was able to have lived. He said, “It is only by the grace of God that you lived.” It was that grace and I stand before you always grateful to my God in heaven who extended my life as a soldier. My complete story of faith is at www.combatfaith.com.
You are here at this institution to train to become officers to serve in the Army of the United States of America, to fulfill a patriotic duty, to uphold the Constitution, but, above and beyond that you must be in the service of God throughout your lifetime. The closer you are to God and collectively others in our society also, the stronger will be our great America.
Throughout our nation’s history many a president-a soldier-a sailor-an airman-a Marine-a farmer-a business person-a mother-a father-has found this book’s words to be, “…a lamp unto his feet and a light to his path…” in their darkest hours. We must commit this word in our mind and heart to have it ready at hand to make the right choices to continue to keep America a strong nation originally founded on Christian morality and values.
Francis Scott Key, the author of our Star Spangled Banner, stated once, “…(the patriot) will therefore seek to establish for his country in the eyes of the world, such a character as shall make her not unworthy of the name of a Christian nation.” On our watch let it not be said that we faltered or dropped the torch, but kept the light held high in all our arenas of life for all of our life.
Students of Civil War history may recall that 1846 West Point graduate, LTG Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson, was shot by one of his own men on a picket line at Chancellorsville in 1863. As he lay on his deathbed after having an arm amputated, he is quoted to have spoken these words, “I consider these wounds a blessing; they were given me for some good and wise purpose, and I would not part with them if I could.” My dear fellow patriots here today at this bastion of preparation to protect the peace, but, if necessary, to war successfully against our nation’s enemies, I did not lose my legs, I gave them. All these years since 1967 with these severe wounds, sincerely I would not be who I am to do what I do with my convictions and faith had I left Vietnam uninjured to return to that good Dallas life I had planned. Today just as Sgt. Jimmy Hill saved me to come home in Caesar’s world, my belief in my Savior Jesus the Christ, allows me to be saved and eventually to go home to our Father in heaven.
I conclude in my prayer for each of you hearing my testimony this day that you will make that decision of faith so that heaven will also be your final assignment. May God bless, preserve, and protect you in peace and war.