When Something Slips

By Joseph S. Bonsall

Then shall two be in the field: the one shall be taken, and the other left. Two women shall be grinding at the mill: one shall be taken, and the other left. Matthew 24: 40, 41

The young and handsome U.S. Marine waited patiently at the front door of the Virginia farmhouse. He stood in silence and stared at the yet unopened door. He searched his soul and tried desperately to find the courage to knock. He knew the family was at home – and not just because there were cars in the driveway.

He could feel them. The boy’s keen sense of awareness had already witnessed to him about the fact that the man, woman, and twin girls were certainly inside of this house. He was also well aware that this beautiful home in the Virginia mountains had become a house of pain and sadness and ........ immeasurable loss.

What he didn’t know was how this family would react to his presence on their front porch. He would not learn the answer to this mystery until he willed himself to actually knock upon the front door.

He knocked twice.

An attractive woman in her early forties opened the door. She stepped back a bit and shuddered at the sight of the young Marine in his dress blues. Her eyes welled with tears as she called out to her husband, “Honey, come here.”

A well built man in a plaid shirt and khaki pants suddenly appeared beside the woman. A lifetime of hard farm labor and law enforcement work normally made this silver haired man a bit intimidating. However at this moment in space and time, he seemed small, bent and sad.

Grief can take a big toll on a man, no matter how strong he appears. He had, in point of fact, not left this home in two months.

They all stared at each other for several seconds before the Marine began to speak the words that he had come to say.

“Sir. Ma’am. My name is Andy Gentry, and I was with your son when he....... when he.........”

The boy choked on his own tears and could not finish. The woman stepped forward and took him in her arms. She held him close. The man stepped forward and hugged them both.

Tears fell like raindrops on the front porch of the little farmhouse in Virginia, as a young Marine and the parents of his, now dead, friend dealt with the pain and loss. Perhaps together they could find a measure of healing.

That was why he came! To meet the family of his fallen comrade. Hoping to find a bit of peace in doing so.

As with all veterans of combat from every war since the beginning of time, this young Marine was trying to deal with that which so many brave young men have had to face before him: Why is he here, walking and talking and breathing, while his buddy, Corporal Jonathan W. Bowling, is not.

But the Bowlings of Stuart, Virginia, would do all in their power to befriend and help this young Marine. That is the kind of people they were. The kind of people who rise up. The kind of people who give us a fine young man like Jonathan to begin with.

But now, Jonathan has become yet another young soldier who has joined that long, gray line of those who died in the service of country. A big, strong, good-looking boy of twenty-three years. Gone from this earth and now wrapped in the gentle arms of the Savior.

This little story is true. I have met and come to know all of these fine folks. Although, as an author, I am guilty of paraphrasing the event in my own words, I hope the Bowlings and the young Marine Gentry approve.

It would seem that scenes like this are playing out across our nation a lot these days. We are at war with vicious people who hate us for our very way of life, and the price for being at war always includes sacrifice on many levels.

It is an awesome and very meaningful sacrifice. The lives of our young men and women who are being lost for the cause of freedom and protection in this war on terror.

It is tough to take. A hard pill to swallow.

This has always been the case.

I have had the honor of spending a lot of time with veterans of late. The Oak Ridge Boys recently played a major role in a celebration called Operation Homecoming in Saddlebrooke, Missouri, where we helped to finally “welcome home” thousands of Viet Nam vets… and thank them for their service. It was very humbling to be certain.

We have also performed for our nation’s troops several times over the last few years. And I have, personally, spoken in front of many veteran groups because of my song and book, G.I. Joe and Lillie.

There have been so many sacrifices made for each of us. But as with my own mom and dad, who now rest in Arlington, would tell you, ‘No matter what price that one may have paid in combat and beyond, it was those who did not come back who were the real heroes.’

I have never met a veteran who didn’t feel this way.

Bruce Springsteen once wrote an obscure song called, Brothers Under The Bridge. It’s about Viet Nam veterans who came home from this brutal and unpopular war, lamenting the death of a fellow soldier. He uses the phrase ‘something slips,’ which I have never forgotten. I used the phrase in my book, G.I. Joe and Lillie, in this context…

The emotion swells from down deep in the soldier’s soul – not due to his own battle trauma – but because the old veteran remembers all the young friends who never came back.

The buddy who was right beside him, living, breathing, and laughing, and then – like the words of an old Bruce Springsteen song – “something slips!” Suddenly, he is gone.

The veteran is constantly overwhelmed to realize that he has lived out his life, earned a living, and raised a family. Yet, if not for the grace of Almighty God and a healthy dose of good luck, he would be resting on a green hill buried beneath a white cross like so many others who did not live to see the age of 21. A veteran carries these thoughts with him throughout his life like a piece of luggage that is handcuffed to his heart. (From G.I. Joe and Lillie, published by New Leaf Press. Copyright 2003.)

Something slipped in Iraq on that January afternoon when four out of nine Marines were killed by terrorist insurgents. Marine Gentry will have to deal with that memory for the rest of his life.

I must also add that Marine Gentry is going back to Iraq.

In his words, “It is an important job that we are doing over there. I want to go back for Jonathan and the others to finish the job that we all started together. I have to go back!”

May God bless and protect him!

Yes, I believe that Corporal Bowling, and others like him, throughout our nation’s history, died for ME!

Yes, it is that personal.

Sacrifice....... FOR ME!

I wrote a song by that title two years ago, making the observation that every sacrifice was made for me personally. I truly believe that. The soldier in Viet Nam, the Marine in Iraq, and the fireman in Manhattan, who all die in the verses of the song ……. died for me.

As Christ died on the cross for my sins, young men and woman throughout time have sacrificed themselves for my rights to live and work. To enjoy and pursue goals in a free society.

So I can live

In the Land of Free

Raise my kids

Live my dreams

There’s a price

For liberty

Sacrifice.............

For me

Remember these words the next time ‘something slips’ and a hero like Corporal Jonathan W. Bowling USMC is taken from us. I wear his name on a memorial bracelet that his own mother gave me so that I can be reminded each and every day. Reminded of him and those like him who have made the supreme sacrifice ....... FOR ME ....... and for YOU.

On the day of this writing a MH-47 Chinook Helicopter was shot down in Asadabad, Afghanistan. The Chinook was carrying a Night Stalkers Special Ops unit who had been routing out Taliban insurgents in the mountains. Something slipped and sixteen more American young men made the supreme sacrifice. Sixteen more like Corporal Bowling gone ……. for ME!

So no matter what your political persuasion. No matter how you feel about this president or his policies. No matter how you feel about this war. Please remember and always look kindly upon these young men and women of the United States military. Thank them when you see them! Love them! Pray for them and for their families!

They are the best of us!

God Bless America,

Joseph S. Bonsall

Lyrics from Sacrifice For Me, Copyright B’s In The Trees Music/ASCAP. Administered by Bradley Music Management, Inc.