Covered by His Armor

"Therefore, take up the full armor of God, so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand firm therefore, having girded your loins with truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; in addition to all, taking up the shield of faith with which you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God." — Ephesians 6:13–17 (NASB)

In the middle of 2009, I separated from the U.S. Army and made a few meager attempts to find a more peaceful line of work. Things did not work out as I had hoped. By September 2009, I was back in Afghanistan, delivering U.S. mail and other supplies throughout the country on behalf of the U.S. Government.

I first arrived back in Kabul on a Monday morning around 8:00 a.m., and by 2:00 a.m. the following morning, I was deployed on my first mission. We were ambushed twice that day, and during the second attack, three men were wounded and one man was killed. Yet, something inside me felt strangely at peace amid the chaos. The frenzied world around me mirrored much of what was taking place within me. However, the inner peace I initially experienced after returning to Afghanistan was short-lived.

On September 15, 2009, we were conducting a routine resupply mission to a forward operating base outside Sharana, located in Paktika Province. We had a new convoy team leader with us that day, and we were traveling in three SUVs accompanied by at least six additional vehicles filled with armed Afghan security guards. Many of the guards were frequently under the influence of drugs, and many had never received professional military training in the use of their weapons or in how to shoot, move, and communicate during enemy contact. Nevertheless, there we were.

Around midday, we had just departed the base in Sharana and were heading back toward Kabul. Up to that point, everything had been calm and quiet. However, as we approached an intersection commonly referred to as "4 Corners," we were suddenly ambushed with machine-gun fire and rocket-propelled grenades. Rounds from 7.62 mm Kalashnikov rifles pierced several tires and shattered multiple windows. Someone in the lead vehicle dismounted to return fire, while all of the Afghan security escorts continued driving and eventually took cover in a local market one to two kilometers farther down the road.

Jammed in behind the lead vehicle, we dismounted and returned fire from the roadway until a rocket-propelled grenade impacted only a short distance from where we were standing. We immediately abandoned the vehicles and took cover inside an abandoned mud house beside the road.

From behind cover, I pulled out my phones and called Bagram Airfield (BAF), just north of Kabul, as well as an Afghan Army colonel with troops stationed in Ghazni. Meanwhile, the firefight continued. At one point, our Director of Operations (a very close friend) was struck by a small piece of shrapnel. Wiping away a narrow trickle of blood, he laughed and assured everyone he was fine.

Just as I turned to respond to more questions over my unreliable mobile connection, my friend was struck again.

This time, a bullet entered his face and neck before exiting through his shoulder, sending him to the ground. Because of the location of the wound, a pressure dressing, tourniquet, or the clotting agents we carried would have done little good. I sent one final urgent message to Bagram Airfield requesting the immediate deployment of a quick reaction force. Otherwise, my friend would almost certainly bleed to death.

No thanks to the coalition forces at Bagram, or to the Polish Army positioned less than two kilometers away, ground support finally arrived. Our rescuers came in the form of an Afghan National Army platoon dispatched by the Afghan colonel in Ghazni. Armed with two Soviet-made DShK 1938 heavy machine guns, they arrived quickly, and the enemy fighters immediately ceased fire and dispersed from the battlefield.

Although the firefight had ended, the battle for my courageous friend was only beginning. With multiple flat tires, shattered glass, and bullet holes riddling our vehicles, we made our way to a nearby Polish Army outpost and again contacted Bagram Airfield for a medical evacuation. This time, they responded.

I remained with my friend until U.S. Army personnel from the 101st Airborne Division landed and urgently transported him by helicopter to Bagram Airfield. With one man critically wounded, our vehicles badly damaged, and daylight quickly fading, we decided to return to the forward operating base in Ghazni for the night before attempting the drive back to Kabul the following morning.

That was when I realized I was not wearing any body armor.

Earlier that morning, shortly after departing Kabul, my local driver (a family member of my close friend) had informed me that he had not yet been issued body armor. Since we were already too far into the mission to turn around, I gave him my own armor and instructed him to obtain his issued equipment as soon as we returned to Kabul. Until that moment, I had completely forgotten that I had gone through the entire firefight without any body armor.

Then I remembered something.

When my wounded friend was medically evacuated, he had left behind his weapons, ammunition, and body armor.

So I put it on.

Using bottled water, I attempted, with little success, to wash away the blood. Nevertheless, I put on the armored vest and immediately felt protected. As we traveled back through enemy territory, I knew the possibility of being wounded still remained. Yet I also knew that the blood-covered body armor would shield my heart and other vital organs if we came under attack again.

Although we lost another vehicle during the return trip to Kabul, we arrived without any further injuries.

Even now, it is nearly impossible for me to read Ephesians 6:13–17 without thinking about my friend and that dreadful September day in 2009. In a way that few people experience, I have come to appreciate the significance of the armor God has provided through Jesus Christ.

In much the same way that my friend left behind his body armor to protect me, Jesus willingly laid down His life so that we might be clothed in His righteousness. Covered by His blood, our hearts are secure when we put on the breastplate of righteousness and stand firm in Him.

Jesus of course did not remain in the grave. He rose again in victory over sin and death. Because of His sacrifice and resurrection, we are not merely protected, we are more than conquerors through Him who first loved us.

Written by JCT