On this Memorial Day we share a story from Rev. Doug McLeroy’s book, On My Believing Days: A Story of Life and Faith. A member of our Pastoral Care ministry, Doug previously served as an Army chaplain. The book is available in the Welcome Center ($20).
Rev. Doug McLeroy
One of the things I loved to do was to sponsor a retreat getting the soldiers off the mountain to see other parts of Germany and reflect upon the importance of their spiritual lives. One retreat I enjoyed was a tour to Dachau, one of Hitler’s first concentration camps. The theme of the retreat was combating evil in our world. The retreat not only included a tour of Dachau but a time of reflection that evening in the American Hotel in Munich. On one of my trips to Dachau, a soldier nicknamed by the soldiers as “Sergeant Rock” came along. He was the life of the party. He had been promoted to sergeant a few times and busted back to private a few times. His army uniform revealed the shadow on his sleeve where his three stripes used to be, but he had been reduced in rank. He was a little older and had a few more years in the army than his peers. The soldiers respected him and listened when he spoke. They trusted his experience and he enjoyed being their mentor. He just couldn’t avoid drinking, fighting, and being the last man standing in bar fights.
As we arrived in Dachau, Sergeant Rock was in his element. He was loud and having fun teasing younger soldiers. As we toured the museum, he grew silent as he saw the ovens and the many photos that documented the evil of Hitler’s reign of terror. There was one enlarged photo of a grandmother carrying a child in her arms while also guiding three other small children walking down a path. It was a bitter winter scene and they were not adequately dressed for the severe winter weather. Hitler had ordered their extermination simply because they were of Jewish descent. Under this life size photo, the caption read: “On the way to the gas chamber.” It was at this point that Sergeant Rock stopped. Others passed by him, but he didn’t move. In his silence, he was spellbound by something that would not let him go. He had become a silent sentry bearing witness to Hitler’s evil.
That evening in the American Hotel, I knew the troops were ready to get out on the town. They had been on a remote mountain top long enough. However, I asked them to gather with me to talk about what they had experienced. Many soldiers shared their impressions of what they had seen. Most of them agreed that the most moving experience was standing before the large sculpture that looked like skeletal remains with the words, NEVER AGAIN, printed below. That’s when Sergeant Rock spoke up. He said, “I am glad I am an American soldier.” Silence filled the room as each one pondered his words. For him, the reality of the Dachaus of this world were not to be ignored, but he would live his life as a soldier. Sergeant Rock believed that he had a responsibility to fight against the evil of this world.
Holy Communion was offered for those who would like to remain, the others were free to go. But on that night, every solder remained in the room to receive the sacrament. They came from many different faith traditions and some without any faith tradition, but in that space, they were surrounded by grace. They had seen what evil could do to helpless people. They felt a sense of purpose and meaning as they served their nation as soldiers.
