What soldiers need
From the shores of Omaha Beach to today, faith has carried people through their hardest moments. But after the sudden dismissal of the Army’s Chief of Chaplains, the question isn’t just what happened—it’s what we, as a community, are called to do next.
I was watching a World War II documentary about D-Day. One of the interviewees, Richard Fazzio, 5th boat, 1st wave at Omaha, described being on the boat leading up to the beach.
“As I was going into the beach, I could hear the bullets hitting on the side of the ship—on the side of my boat. And then that’s when I realized—I says, ‘well, this isn’t gonna be a piece of cake. This is for real.’ I looked into the well of the boat and there was 35 soldiers in there and I don’t think there was an atheist in there because every one of us was making a sign of the cross as we were going in.”
That is what those soldiers, in that boat, in real danger, needed in that moment. Something to hold on to beyond themselves.
On April 2nd, for the first time in U.S. history, a Chief of Chaplains was fired. Major Gen. William Green Jr., a native of Savannah, Georgia, and only the third Black chaplain to hold the position, served as the Army’s chief of chaplains since 2023. Endorsed by the National Baptist Convention, he built a decades-long career in military chaplaincy, including service in Operation Iraqi Freedom and senior leadership roles at the Pentagon.
No reason was given for Green’s sudden dismissal. That silence has fueled concern among Black faith leaders and lawmakers, with the National Baptist Convention warning that the decision raises troubling questions about political interference, fairness, and whether spiritual leadership in the military is being shaped by ideology rather than calling.
So how should we react?
I asked two Evansville voices. Merrick Korach, who describes himself as a “community advocate for everyday people”—someone who thinks about power from the ground up, not from inside institutions.
“I think it sets a precedent that those in power are able to control outcomes, whether or not they’re justified, solely based on preference,” he told me. “To lose a position like that—it leaves room to ask, ‘In what way was that spiritual leadership controlled by the system rather than the spiritual undergirding of why someone would be called to hold that position?'”
For Evansville specifically, Merrick sees a warning. “We have to ask ourselves: when do we draw the line?”
Pastor Ryan F. Jackson of New Hope Missionary Baptist Church had a more direct answer. “We need to mobilize civic leaders for a review of this decision,” he said. “It is imperative that we push accountability and due process.”
The Catholic Church has a term called quietism—the idea that we can kick our feet up and let the Lord do everything. “I don’t have to do anything because I’m saved. God’s going to do what He’s going to do anyway.” That’s not Christianity. The Great Commission is active: Go forth and make disciples of all nations.
Silence-especially from those in power- is a problem.
Perhaps the real silence is in not asking the question directly: what do soldiers actually need?
I asked Pastor Jackson what soldiers need from a chaplain, especially during war.
“I wholeheartedly believe that soldiers need presence and prayer in the midst of war,” he said. “They need chaplains who can help them carry weight and fully listen to them without judgment.”
Merrick went deeper. “Soldiers need to be able to ask real questions. For example: ‘Can I be a man of faith and carry out what is expected of me from a military perspective?’ Without chaplaincy, men and women only have an authoritative, forceful means of wrestling with that. We’re left with a nationalistic perspective and source of discernment if we take out the spiritual role a chaplain would play.”
He continued: “If we’re able to talk about the hard things with our chaplain while honoring the country we’re living in, soldiers are able to come to a balanced approach of their allegiance and responsibilities. If you don’t have a voice to bounce that off of, it seems as if you’re only blindly following orders. I think it makes us less human if we’re not able to talk about those deep things and we’re just told to obey orders.”
In that moment, in that boat, those soldiers needed a shepherd. That’s what a chaplain is. A pastor. A spiritual guide. Someone to help men face death. Minding what soldiers need is an act of service. Rejoicing or outrage over Chaplain Green’s firing must be rooted, ultimately, in the service of his soldiers. Otherwise, we’re just reacting to react—and that helps no one.
Pope Francis said, “A pope is the servant of the servants of God.”
Whatever you feel about this decision—good, bad, confused—take it and serve in our community.
If you think it was wrong, serve in a way that prevents it from happening again. If you think it was right, serve in a way that puts better shepherds in place. If you’re not sure, serve anyway.
At the end of the day, that’s what the Lord told all of us to do. He washed feet and said, “If I, your Lord, can wash your feet, then how much more can you wash one another’s feet? That’s how they will know you belong to me.”
Not by having the right opinions about terminations. By washing feet. By serving.
Maybe service is as simple as saying what those soldiers said in the 5th boat of the first wave on Omaha Beach.
In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.
