SAN FRANCISCO — Father Paul Donlan, 64, an Operation Desert Storm Navy chaplain, saw nearly every wartime experience imaginable.

His story is the story of what war and its combatants look like through the eyes of a priest. To him soldiers were not statistics but real men whose confessions he heard, men he said Mass for and to whom he gave Communion, men whom he shepherded through the trying time of war.

Father Donlan even spiritually directed some men he will remember this Memorial Day—men who did not return home alive.

“It was a profoundly enriching experience,” said Father Donlan, who now lives in San Francisco. “It taught me never to take anything for granted: sunshine, securi-

ty and safety, a restroom, a bed. The minimum comforts of every day are absolutely luxurious.”

Chaplains such as Donlan are the unsung heroes who risk life and limb for the souls of those who risk life and limb for their country, said Gilbert Duran, 40, a first sergeant in the U.S. Army who has been in the military for more than 20 years.

Their role can be simple and profound. “They're somebody in uniform who has compassion,” Duran said, “someone you can confide in and turn to in any crisis, whether it's dealing with missing home, loneliness, death, marriage-counseling. They're looked upon highly.”

Father Donlan, a priest of the Prelature of Opus Dei, was sworn in and commissioned as a lieutenant in the United States Navy in 1988. Within four years, he was on the front lines of the Persian Gulf War.

During that anxious time, Father Donlan ministered to many soldiers— Catholics and non-Catholics alike—in Al Jubayl, Saudi Arabia. “I said daily Mass most of the time,” he said. “I carried the Blessed Sacrament in a pyx with me always. I was ready to give Communion at all times. I was a walking tabernacle.”

While in Saudi Arabia, Father Donlan baptized two soldiers: a private first class and his commanding officer, a lieutenant colonel.

“The [private first class] and I stood on a sand dune at sunset along with his sponsor,” he said. “I used my canteen to baptize him.”

He also spoke a lot about compassion and remembered telling troops that “these Iraqi soldiers don't want to fight, they want to be with their families. They are being used by a dictator. We are not to be vicious or cruel.” He encouraged soldiers to detach themselves and to remember that “we're here to do a mission, to do it and get home.”

Memories of War

His pastoral care also included bittersweet moments that he said showed him what it means to be a part of the human family.

Before departing Camp Lejeune, N.C., a Southern Baptist organist who played at Sunday Mass approached Father Donlan about a Marine who was friends with her daughter. The organist knew the Marine was Catholic but had not been practicing his faith for some time. Both she and her daughter were concerned for his soul as he was being deployed to Saudi Arabia. Father Donlan wrote down the name of the soldier — Cpl. Michael Cooke.

While in Saudi Arabia, Father Donlan providentially befriended Cooke. With Father Donlan's support, he returned to the sacraments and the practice of the faith. Not long after that, Cooke was killed by the accidental explosion of a hand grenade, after having completed a dangerous mission of reconnaissance behind enemy lines.

“On the day he died I was administering to the Catholics of another battalion miles away,” Father Donlan said. “When I returned to my battalion, a bunch of Marines were waiting by my fighting hole to talk. It was very emotional. I spent the rest of the night counseling.”

Cooke was posthumously awarded the Silver Star for a particular heroic deed performed during his last mission.

Father Donlan also sadly recalled a 19-year-old Catholic Marine who committed suicide.

Father Donlan arrived at the bloody scene and gave the dead man conditional absolution and anointing. The incident greatly disturbed fellow Marines. “It was sad,” Father Donlan said, “I did grief counseling. I talked to one officer who threw himself into my arms. The soldiers were close, like fathers and sons.”

He said the fraternity and solidarity of men in combat is very close and very real. “It's a strong brotherhood,” he said. “It really is a band of brothers. It's grounded in God and can be built on. It teaches you what it means to be a human being. We depend on each other.”

A Battlefield Christmas

Christmas of 1990 was an exceptional time for Father Donlan. “I heard many confessions. It was a great time for prayer,” he said. He remembered in particular celebrating Christmas Eve Mass and talking to the troops about the similarities between their Christmas and the world's first Christmas. He told them, “The Holy Family had been uprooted from Nazareth by a decree of Caesar Augustus. Imagine the loneliness of it all. But they had each other. They had love. We have God and each other.”

That Christmas, Father Donlan said, “we sang our hearts out. We prayed up a storm.” And, indeed, a storm came.

On Jan. 17, 1991, one day after the deadline for Iraq to comply with the U.N. mandate that Iraqi forces withdraw from Kuwait, the month-long bombing of Baghdad began. It hailed the advent of Operation Desert Storm. On Feb. 24 the ground war began.

“We were one of the first units to go in,” Father Donlan said. “It was a very tense combat situation. The adrenaline flowed. There were some scary moments.”

One such scary moment was when he was with a convoy advancing in Kuwait. Suddenly the convoy stopped. They were told to put on their gas masks and MOPP gear—Level 4, which meant covering every exposed part of their skin. They were expecting an attack of nerve gas.

Father Donlan remembered the incident: “For the first time in my life I felt panic. I remember praying ‘Lord, not like this. Lord, not like this.’ I said an act of contrition.” Fortunately, the attack turned out to be a false alarm and Father Donlan survived the rest of the 100-hour ground war.

Looking Back

Rabbi Jon Cutler, 45, a fellow chaplain and the only Jewish Rabbi for the Marines during Desert Storm, recalled Father Donlan's good nature. “We were and still are good friends,” Rabbi Cutler said. “He's a very likable person, and he has a real sense of integrity and fairness. He was truly committed to being a priest and a chaplain.”

Rabbi Cutler adds, “I was very impressed with Father Paul's tremendous respect for Judaism and other religious faiths. I was impressed with his ecumenical nature, his openness. He was never judgmental and had a good sense about him.”

Father Donlan's relationship with the Marines was also very strong according to Rabbi Cutler. “He was tremendously respected by the Marines. They respected him because he showed respect for them.”

In retrospect, Father Donlan said he knows God supported him both physically and spiritually during his time in the Persian Gulf.

“The five months were short but very intense. Physically, you adapt to everything,” said Father Donlan. “I think the Lord gives you special strength to adapt. We lived in hot, cold, windy and dry weather. There were flies. You got used to everything.”

He added, “I knew people were praying for me. I felt the communion of saints. I truly experienced the communion of saints.”

As America is now engaged in a far more insidious war, Father Donlan offered these words of counsel to soldiers and civilians alike: “The time has come for the American people to be ready spiritually, psychologically and emotionally to be able to handle an attack as great or greater than those of Sept. 11. We haven't seen the end of it yet. We must have an awareness that at any moment something could happen.”

Martin Mazloom writes from Los Angeles.