Debt of Love 

Beau, I woke up at 2:45 AM this morning. August 23, 2019, Caddie told me that your mother’s message indicated that the two Green Berets that were killed in Afghanistan were your team mates and you were understandably distressed by the deaths. Beau, I cannot imagine what you are feeling. But, I do know what I am feeling, even as I cannot go back to sleep. 

Surely, you must feel great sadness and loss along with anger and maybe some sense of guilt that you were not wth them. I am grateful that you are safe and unharmed. 

Beau, I know that your greatest responsibility is to give significance to the lives of those who died by the way you live your life and by what you do with the rest of your life. It is not that you live for them but as we all have a debt of love to someone, you have a debt to those you lived with and trained. You have a deft of love to those who died while you live. This is not a morbid sense of survivor’s guilt but a duty to live well and significantly for those who have died. 

Different lives - Differene Experiences

Beau, on April 6, 2014, when you boarded a bus with other volunteers, you took complete control of your life’s images and of your life portrait. You spent that night with your new family and, April 7th, you flew to your new home. The good news was that you did not abandon your old family but forever you will wew changed. The “band of brothers” and in today’s army, sisters, which you joined on that today, will forever be an intimate part of your heart and life. That was a good thing; but, it required our sharing you with strangers which is not easy, but in honor of you, we did it gracefully.

For much of your life, I have regretted that you have not been able to experience my life as a child and young adult. I have always known that your memories and your experiences were different. I accepted that, but now, you have begun a journey of which I have no knowledge. On April 7th, you began a journey which will change how you approach life. 

Eighteen years ago, I was with a group of people in New Orleans. Gun shots broke out and I ran to a man in a wheel chair who could not seek shelter and I covered him with myself. Years later, as I related that story to a retired Army officer, he said, “I would have found the shooter and disarmed, or disabled him.” I realized then the difference between a defensive action and an offensive one. I realized, Beau, that you have become the one who would not seek shelter, but you would seek the assailant. I accept that; I honor that; I respect that, and I pray for your safety.

I realize that your training will be directed toward making you a part of a unit and in that process you will to some degree lose your personal identify. You will be called, “McMahan” and not “Beau”; and, you will be called less endearing things as well. It is important for you to become a well-oiled part of your unit. It is important to us that others know the fine and noble person you are. We shall always keep a light in the window, figuratively, in anticipation of that wonderful day when “Johnnie comes marching home.” Isn’t it coincidental that on your birth certificate, your first name is, “Johnnie?” 

Processing memories and Grief

Beau, as you process the loss of your two friends, I remind you and myself that this has been the experience of warriors, friends and family for centuries. This was poignantly portrayed in the movie, Chariots of Fire, when the Master of Caius (pronounced "Keyes") College, University of Cambridge, speaking to the Freshman Dinner in 1918, said:

 "I take the war list and I run down it. Name after name, which I cannot read and which we that are older than you cannot hear without emotion. Names which will be only names to you, the new college, but which to us summons up face after face, full of honesty, and goodness, zeal, vigor and intellectual promise. 

“The flower of a generation, the glory of England, and they died for England and all that England stands for and now, by tragic necessity, their dreams have become yours. Let me exhort you, examine yourselves; let each of you discover where your chance of greatness lies; for their sakes, for the sake of your college and your country. Seize this chance, rejoice in it, and let no power or persuasion deter you in your task."

 It is always the sacrifice of those who have gone before which challenge us to our noblest achievements. Beau, seek greatness; not conquest; seek greatness; not surmounting others. Greatness is not defined by winning or by wealth; greatness is defined by honesty, goodness, zeal, vigor, honor, courage, and of intellectual promise exercised in service to others.  

Beau, my nature you shrink from leadership and noteriety. Do not let that inclination deter you ftom fulfilling your debt of love to your fallen comrades. 

The Debt You Incurred

Recognize and embrace the debt you incurred when you accepted the opportunity of membership in the military class beginning in 2014. Watch another scene in your mind as in the movie, Saving Private Ryan, the title character, tremulously, now in his seventies, approached the headstone of Captain John Miller in The American Cemetery at Normandy. 

Miller gave his life that Ryan might live. Beau, your comrades did not give their lives so that you could live, but in your processing of your grief, you may judge that they died in your place. In perhaps the most poignant moment in a great film, tears streamed down Ryan’s face as he plaintively said to his wife, "Tell me that I have lived a good life; tell me that I have been a good man." In that sacred moment Private Ryan knew that the sacrifice of others imposed upon him a debt which only a noble and honorable life could repay. 

Everyone owes such a debt to someone. The circumstances of that debt may not be as dramatic, but it is just as real. Beau you will give meaning to the lives of these men who have died by the life you live. Live it well.

Caring for others has always been a sacred trust. It is a trust which should cause each person so honored to tremble with fear that he or she will not live worthily of that honor. It should cause us to examine our lives for evidence that we have been good stewards of the treasure of knowledge, skill, experience, sacrifice and judgment which has been bequeathed to us by our country. What nobler calling could one have than the opportunity to collaborate with others in their quest for honor and hope? Passion is the fuel which energizes any noble endeavor. It is what makes a person get up early in the morning, work hard all day, and go to bed late at night looking forward to the next day. It is a cause of great sadness that today's society is so devoid of true purpose-driven passion.

 How Do We Heal From aBroken Body or a Broken Heart 

Recently, I re-read my favorite novel, To Serve Them All of my Days, written by British novelist, R. F. Delderfield. It is the fictional story of a young man, David Powlett-Jones, who was injured in World War I. Previously, my focus in reading the story had been Powlett-Jones' life as a teacher and of my own experience as a teacher. It has always caused me a little sadness that I did not spend my life as a formal educator, although in many ways, I have been and am still a teacher at heart. But, this reading was different. This time, I focused on Powlett-Jones' recovery, indeed, I focused on the reality that his healing was the result of his serving others rather than his being preoccupied with his own condition. 

This is not to deprecate the value of physical medicine, or the imperative of excellent surgical, medical, nursing and health care. It is however to suggest that there is an element in healing of the body and mind where that healing and the return to "life," is found in having a purpose for living which cannot be found within ourselves and which cannot be found while focusing upon ourselves. Powlett-Jones suffered serious physical and mental wounds from battle and subsequently suffered the tragic death of his wife and child, he found survival, peace and recovery in serving others. 

Describing Powlett-Jones' physical injury, the author states:

"...at the very end of it all, that ultimate mortar shell, landing square on the parados and pitch forking him over the threshold of hell where, for the most part, he was unaware of his identity as a man or even a thing but floated free on a current of repetitive routine - shifts on a stretcher or in a jolting vehicle, daily dressings, carried out by faceless men and women..." (page 4)

Twelve years later, having recovered from the wounds, Powlett-Jones would experience the trauma of the loss of his wife and child in an accident. The mental and emotional scars of the death of his loved ones would heal but only as a result of his being involved in the life of others. The author states:

"That was the way of it, not only as far as end of term, and through the summer break, but on through the Michaelmas term to his first Christmas alone. It was as thought his existence, as a man with some useful part to play in life, was a shallow-rooted plant, dependent upon the strength of a cluster of root fibers that ran just below the surface, searching for points of anchorage, another, stronger root perhaps, or an angled rock, or a layer of heavier soil... he made the discovery with time and with the caring for others."

It was in the "caring for others" that Powlett-Jones found the care which he needed. It is also the case with us. 

What Can We Learn

Beau, the circumstances of your life and mine are different from the Master at Caius, Private Ryan and Powlett-Jones, but the principles of life are the same.

As you process your anger, grief and maybe survivors guilt, realize that you have been given a great gift. Receive it with gratitude and resolved to make sure that your fallen comrades are as proud of yo-yo as you are of them. 

Seek the course which leads you to the greatness your gratitude places upon you. Whatever path you travel or whatever goal you pursue it knowing that you live also for others. You have a good heart, an excellent mind and a strong body, fulfill your promise and you will thereby positively and appropriately give significance to the lives of those who gave their lives for country and comrades. 

Godbless you my precious grandson. I shall always thank God for you and I will always look forward to the next time we are together. 

Grandy.