Johnson's road from infantry to ministry

SEELEY LAKE – In November of 1967, when the Vietnam War was heating up, Don Johnson received notification he had been drafted into the United States Army. Though repulsed at the possibility of having to kill another human being, his sense of patriotism and love for his country impelled him to embrace his duty and honor the draft notice rather than run from it. That decision was the beginning of a circuitous route which would guide him to the evangelical ministry.

Johnson said he hoped the Army would train him as a cook or a clerk or some other type of non-combatant. Instead he was assigned to the infantry.

"It was a personal struggle and a prayerful for one for me," Johnson said.

During his infantry training at Fort Lewis, Wash., Johnson scored well on tests and was asked if he would like to go to Non-Commissioned Officer (NCO) School to become a Buck Sergeant. He said, "absolutely not" – so they sent him anyway.

At the conclusion of his NCO training, Johnson returned to Fort Lewis as a leader responsible for training 50 soldiers. He said always in the back of his mind was the knowledge of what those young men soon would be facing, as would he also. At that time, few infantry soldiers came back from the war unwounded. Johnson had already talked to his brother about the disposal of his belongings if he did not make it home from the war.

In fall of 1968 Johnson was sent to Vietnam and assigned to the 11th Armored Cavalry Unit, nicknamed Blackhorse Regiment. Though the previous training he had received and given was for infantry foot soldiers, he now found himself Track Commander of an armored personnel carrier converted to an infantry assault vehicle (APC). He was responsible for six other men. His own position was in the turret on top of the APC, operating a 50-caliber machine gun.

Johnson talked of the bond that was quickly established within the group, despite their diversity of backgrounds and life experiences.

He said, "Your goal is to stay alive and help each other and have each other's back. My constant prayer was not wanting to see guys that I was responsible for have anything bad happen to them."

Johnson recounted an incident where he was eating supper with a man from a different unit and the enemy began lobbing mortar shells in their direction. Everyone scattered. While Johnson and his crew ran to get into their APC, the other man ran in the opposite direction and was hit by a subsequent mortar round.

Johnson said, "I knew within minutes that he was killed. But our job was to pursue and stop the attackers and I remember having to make a decision to stuff that down. I couldn't let myself think about it. I had to stay focused on what we were doing. That was one of the survival mindsets of combat. You did what you had to do. That helped you function in crisis."

On New Year's Day 1969 Johnson was on a convoy and his APC drove over a road mine. He said months later he talked to someone who had been in the convoy behind him.

That soldier told him, "There were five of you guys flying around up in the air. I don't know how you kept from banging into each other. You must have gone about 30 feet in the air."

As for Johnson's own memories, he said, "I remember, amazingly [the mine] hadn't flipped the APC. Had the vehicle flipped over, it would have landed on me. I watched one of my guys come to a rolling stop on top of the APC, and he was all bloody. Some machine gun mount broke and I knew that had to be another gunner's body. I remember laying there and I couldn't move anything below my waist."

Johnson's thoughts turned to the status of the other men. He said the platoon sergeant came running up and told him everybody was all right, but he knew that wasn't true. Later he overheard the medic tell the platoon sergeant he thought Johnson had it worse than any of them because apparently his back was broken.

Johnson said, "That was the greatest relief for me. You know, the insanity of the moment. But I felt that meant nobody was dead."

Johnson was medivacked to an emergency hospital and kept there until they could determine whether he had internal injuries in addition to the back issues. He described the experience of being at the hospital as equally as traumatic as the mine incident.

He said, "I remember they were checking me out and there was all this screaming and noise going on from blinded and delimbed people."

Johnson interrupted his narrative to say how much he respected the medics who had to deal with that kind of mayhem every hour of every day. He marveled that each medic who examined him was able to set everything else aside and focus solely on him and his needs.

Eventually Johnson was able to move a few toes. He cycled through a hospital in Japan before ending up at Madigan Hospital in Washington where he remained for almost three months. Even though he had a back injury, he was placed in the amputee ward. One of the first soldiers he saw there was a sergeant he had trained with, and the man was minus a leg.

Johnson said a lot of what happened after his road mine incident brought the reality of war to him in a particularly heartbreaking way. It set the course of his life on a path toward a ministry focused on spiritual and emotional healing.

When he was finally released from the hospital, able to walk normally but still subject to chronic back pain, Johnson was put on limited duty and served the rest of his time in a non-infantry position. Two weeks after he returned to civilian life, he started college. He said that was during the Vietnam War protest days. The stories spread about the war were very different from the reality he had experienced. Though he said he personally did not have a problem with either those who were for or against the war, some very hurtful things were being said and perpetuated.

"It was an adjustment time for me," Johnson said. "Refocusing. Taking on an attitude that the war's behind me, that I want to get on with the rest of my life."

Even before receiving his draft notice, he had felt a pull to become a minister, and after the war his empathy for suffering people was even stronger. While still in college he was mentored by the pastor at Garden City Chapel. In 1972 Johnson got married and three months later was confirmed as a minister. He later stepped into the role of senior pastor when that mentor left.

Johnson said both he and Ruth brought "unresolved baggage" to the marriage. Ruth had undergone a life-threatening situation during an abduction in college. In addition, Johnson underwent a late PTSD breakdown and had to seek help.

He said, "It's made me by far a better person, much more sensitive to people around me."

Johnson added the medical profession is finding it more and more common for combat veterans to experience PTSD later in life. He wanted to assure fellow vets that it is never too late to seek help and that there are VA counseling services available in Missoula.

Though Johnson pastored at Garden City Chapel in Missoula for 25 years, his ministry has also extended outward to Indian reservations and places in South America. Because of their traumatic experiences, the Johnsons have focused much of their energy on people who are hurting: military veterans with PTSD, people trying to recover from destroyed marriages or broken relationships with their children, abused women, kids in orphanages, or just people who are lonely and depressed. Johnson called it, "a door bigger than we can walk through in terms of the need and the response."

Looking back on his road from infantry to ministry, Johnson said, "War was hard, but I really am a proud American. After all my travels, I still say this is an incredible country."