thedrifter
12-04-05, 05:08 AM
PROFILE UPDATE
Father and Son Return From War to Home Front in Conflict
Warm welcomes come with questions about how much longer the troops should be in Iraq.
By P.J. Huffstutter, Times Staff Writer
SHAWNEE, Kan. -- Since Chris Phelps, 35, returned from his second tour in Iraq in October, he's tried to ignore the roiling debate about the war in Congress and the media. He stopped reading newspapers. He won't watch the evening news on TV. He turned off the news radio channel in the car.
His father, Kendall Phelps, 58, is doing the same thing.
The two Marines, who served in the same unit in Iraq, came home a few weeks ago.
But after President Bush's recent speech about the future of the military's role in the Middle East, the men say they can't overlook the fact that home has become a far more conflicted place than when they boarded planes for the Al Anbar province about nine months ago. The father and son were profiled in The Times in January before they shipped out.
For two men who believe so strongly in the cause, the political brouhaha is baffling.
The military has said it would welcome having the father, a master gunnery sergeant, and the son, a major, voluntarily head back to Iraq in the spring.
In their recently completed tour, Chris spent his days on security patrols to Fallouja; snipers in Ramadi routinely shot at Kendall.
"I'm proud of what we've accomplished and what we're doing over there," Chris said. "But there's such conflict. The government told us this was our patriotic duty to be there. Now, there's talk about backing off before the mission's done.
"If we can't finish what we went over there for, then why do this in the first place? It'd be foolish for us to leave now."
If the two men return to Iraq, they may encounter another family member: Joshua Phelps, Chris' younger brother, is applying to the Marines' officer training program this month.
For months, Joshua has spent his days studying at Washburn University in Topeka, Kan., and his nights trying to reassure his mother, Sherma, 57.
Now, Joshua considers it his duty to enlist.
"My father's getting older, and this was probably his last hurrah as a Marine," said Joshua, 22. "Chris will probably go back to Iraq. If Dad can't be there, I will be."
Josh let his father break the news to the rest of the family last week. "Things were finally getting back to normal, and now this," said Sherma. "I don't want to think about the future."
Not long ago, life seemed far simpler.
Kendall Phelps, a Vietnam veteran and high school music teacher in Silver Lake, Kan., retired from the Marine Reserve in 1999, when military rules required him to leave after 30 years' service.
When his son Chris, who is active duty, was sent on his first Iraq tour in 2003, Kendall swore he would persuade the Marine Reserve to take him back and allow him to fight by his son's side. In an unusual move, prompted in part because of Kendall's teaching background, the Marines agreed.
The men departed for Iraq within days of each other. Kendall Phelps left behind four other grown children, six grandchildren and Sherma, his wife of 37 years. Chris Phelps said goodbye to his wife, Lisa, and four small boys, now ages 7 and younger.
The men were assigned to the 5th Civil Affairs Group, whose mission was to help Iraqis open new schools, train police, build roads and set up local governments. Reservists, drawn from a nationwide pool, dominated the 193-member unit. During its seven-month tour in Iraq, at least six Marines were injured and one officer was killed.
Upon Chris and Kendall's return, the excitement of their being home was quickly followed by questions.
After the first tour, I came back to people slapping me on the back in congratulations," Chris said. "Now, people are still slapping me on the back. The next thing out of their mouth is, 'Don't you think it's time for us to leave?' "
Neighbors and friends held parades and parties to honor the Phelpses in their hometown of Silver Lake, about 75 miles west of Kansas City, Mo. And they asked: Haven't you given enough? Risked enough?
Again and again, the men answered that they were not giving anything more, or anything less, than any other Marine.
But there are limits. When Joshua told his dad and brother last month about his decision to sign up, Chris and Kendall were torn.
The men were proud that Joshua would honor his family tradition and support his country. But neither could bring himself to tell the enthusiastic young recruit about the horrors he could expect to face.
"How do I explain what you have to experience firsthand?" Chris said. "He's old enough to make his own decisions. He's old enough to do this."
Kendall contacted the Marine Corps to see if there was a way he could remain in the service — but not return to Iraq.
"It would be too hard on Sherma to have all three of us gone," Kendall said. "It's too much to ask, too big of a risk."
Chris has tried to reach out to the community, speaking to local schools and volunteer organizations in an effort to explain why he believes the military shouldn't pull out of Iraq just yet.
On a recent evening inside an elementary school cafeteria near his home in Shawnee, Chris talked to several dozen Cub Scouts and their parents about his experiences.
He told them how the Iraqis were excited about the idea of holding elections. How Iraqi children attend schools with no blackboards, no books and no playgrounds. How children played in the streets, despite the danger of sniper fire.
"We promised these people that we would help them change their country," Chris said.
"When you make a promise, it's important that you keep it. We need to be there and finish what we've started."
Chris' style was relaxed and warm. As a father, he understood how to captivate the imaginations of boys: On a nearby table, he put out military helmets and an Iraqi police flak jacket they could try on.
A somber-faced boy in the back raised his hand, and looked Chris straight in the eye. In a quiet voice, the child asked, "What started the war? Why are we there?"
Silence fell over the cafeteria. Chris opened his mouth to answer, but no words came.
He quickly changed the subject.
Ellie
Father and Son Return From War to Home Front in Conflict
Warm welcomes come with questions about how much longer the troops should be in Iraq.
By P.J. Huffstutter, Times Staff Writer
SHAWNEE, Kan. -- Since Chris Phelps, 35, returned from his second tour in Iraq in October, he's tried to ignore the roiling debate about the war in Congress and the media. He stopped reading newspapers. He won't watch the evening news on TV. He turned off the news radio channel in the car.
His father, Kendall Phelps, 58, is doing the same thing.
The two Marines, who served in the same unit in Iraq, came home a few weeks ago.
But after President Bush's recent speech about the future of the military's role in the Middle East, the men say they can't overlook the fact that home has become a far more conflicted place than when they boarded planes for the Al Anbar province about nine months ago. The father and son were profiled in The Times in January before they shipped out.
For two men who believe so strongly in the cause, the political brouhaha is baffling.
The military has said it would welcome having the father, a master gunnery sergeant, and the son, a major, voluntarily head back to Iraq in the spring.
In their recently completed tour, Chris spent his days on security patrols to Fallouja; snipers in Ramadi routinely shot at Kendall.
"I'm proud of what we've accomplished and what we're doing over there," Chris said. "But there's such conflict. The government told us this was our patriotic duty to be there. Now, there's talk about backing off before the mission's done.
"If we can't finish what we went over there for, then why do this in the first place? It'd be foolish for us to leave now."
If the two men return to Iraq, they may encounter another family member: Joshua Phelps, Chris' younger brother, is applying to the Marines' officer training program this month.
For months, Joshua has spent his days studying at Washburn University in Topeka, Kan., and his nights trying to reassure his mother, Sherma, 57.
Now, Joshua considers it his duty to enlist.
"My father's getting older, and this was probably his last hurrah as a Marine," said Joshua, 22. "Chris will probably go back to Iraq. If Dad can't be there, I will be."
Josh let his father break the news to the rest of the family last week. "Things were finally getting back to normal, and now this," said Sherma. "I don't want to think about the future."
Not long ago, life seemed far simpler.
Kendall Phelps, a Vietnam veteran and high school music teacher in Silver Lake, Kan., retired from the Marine Reserve in 1999, when military rules required him to leave after 30 years' service.
When his son Chris, who is active duty, was sent on his first Iraq tour in 2003, Kendall swore he would persuade the Marine Reserve to take him back and allow him to fight by his son's side. In an unusual move, prompted in part because of Kendall's teaching background, the Marines agreed.
The men departed for Iraq within days of each other. Kendall Phelps left behind four other grown children, six grandchildren and Sherma, his wife of 37 years. Chris Phelps said goodbye to his wife, Lisa, and four small boys, now ages 7 and younger.
The men were assigned to the 5th Civil Affairs Group, whose mission was to help Iraqis open new schools, train police, build roads and set up local governments. Reservists, drawn from a nationwide pool, dominated the 193-member unit. During its seven-month tour in Iraq, at least six Marines were injured and one officer was killed.
Upon Chris and Kendall's return, the excitement of their being home was quickly followed by questions.
After the first tour, I came back to people slapping me on the back in congratulations," Chris said. "Now, people are still slapping me on the back. The next thing out of their mouth is, 'Don't you think it's time for us to leave?' "
Neighbors and friends held parades and parties to honor the Phelpses in their hometown of Silver Lake, about 75 miles west of Kansas City, Mo. And they asked: Haven't you given enough? Risked enough?
Again and again, the men answered that they were not giving anything more, or anything less, than any other Marine.
But there are limits. When Joshua told his dad and brother last month about his decision to sign up, Chris and Kendall were torn.
The men were proud that Joshua would honor his family tradition and support his country. But neither could bring himself to tell the enthusiastic young recruit about the horrors he could expect to face.
"How do I explain what you have to experience firsthand?" Chris said. "He's old enough to make his own decisions. He's old enough to do this."
Kendall contacted the Marine Corps to see if there was a way he could remain in the service — but not return to Iraq.
"It would be too hard on Sherma to have all three of us gone," Kendall said. "It's too much to ask, too big of a risk."
Chris has tried to reach out to the community, speaking to local schools and volunteer organizations in an effort to explain why he believes the military shouldn't pull out of Iraq just yet.
On a recent evening inside an elementary school cafeteria near his home in Shawnee, Chris talked to several dozen Cub Scouts and their parents about his experiences.
He told them how the Iraqis were excited about the idea of holding elections. How Iraqi children attend schools with no blackboards, no books and no playgrounds. How children played in the streets, despite the danger of sniper fire.
"We promised these people that we would help them change their country," Chris said.
"When you make a promise, it's important that you keep it. We need to be there and finish what we've started."
Chris' style was relaxed and warm. As a father, he understood how to captivate the imaginations of boys: On a nearby table, he put out military helmets and an Iraqi police flak jacket they could try on.
A somber-faced boy in the back raised his hand, and looked Chris straight in the eye. In a quiet voice, the child asked, "What started the war? Why are we there?"
Silence fell over the cafeteria. Chris opened his mouth to answer, but no words came.
He quickly changed the subject.
Ellie