Taking a Chance on a Pro-American Film

David C. Stolinsky, MD
Feb. 26, 2009

You can’t handle the truth!
− Jack Nicholson as Col. Jessep in “A Few Good Men”

Every man dies. Not every man really lives.
− Mel Gibson as William Wallace in “Braveheart”

If a man hasn’t discovered something that he will die for, he isn’t fit to live.
− Martin Luther King Jr.

I sat down to write a column criticizing the emotional, leftist rants of Sean Penn, Bill Maher and others at the Academy Awards ceremony. I have written on what’s wrong with Hollywood. I have pointed out its anti-military, anti-capitalist, anti-American and anti-Christian bias.

But if I criticize Hollywood when I believe it does something wrong, then I have a moral obligation to praise it when it does something right. This doesn’t happen often, but it just did.

Did you watch “Taking Chance” on HBO? If not, you missed a sensitive, well-written, well-acted film that was pro-military and pro-American. You would do well to see it when it is rebroadcast. There is no surprise ending. The surprise is that the film was made at all.

The true story involves a career Marine officer, Lt. Col. Michael Strobl. He had seen combat in the Gulf War, but had a desk assignment during the current war in Iraq and Afghanistan. Feeling guilty about being home every night with his wife and children, he checked the casualty lists, hoping not to find anyone he knew.

But one day he saw the name of 19-year-old PFC Chance Phelps, who happened to have been born in Strobl’s small home town in Colorado. Strobl volunteered to accompany Phelps’ body home. It is unusual for a senior officer to escort the body of a junior enlisted man, but Strobl felt connected to the young man.

Strobl said goodbye to his wife and kids, then was driven to Dover Air Force Base, where there are facilities to receive the bodies of all those killed overseas.

In brief flashbacks, the film showed how Chance’s body was loaded onto a transport plane in Iraq by an honor guard, then received with equal respect at Dover. The film showed how the melted ice was removed from the stainless steel coffin, and the body lovingly cleaned and prepared for burial. Chance was dressed in an immaculate uniform, although the workers knew that because of the head wound, the coffin would be closed. They did so out of respect for Chance, and because they knew that as a good Marine, he would want to report properly to his Commanding Officer.

What could have been gruesome scenes were instead shown with sensitivity, reflecting the respect with which our fallen heroes are treated. What could have been depressing was instead shown as sad, of course, but also inspiring and moving.

Strobl learned that though Chance indeed was born in Strobl’s Colorado home town, his family now lived in a small town in Wyoming. Thus Strobl’s original reason for escorting the body no longer existed, and Strobl had to confront his deeper motivations.

Chance was placed in a polished wooden coffin, and loaded onto a civilian airliner as Strobl rigidly saluted. He was upgraded to first class by a sympathetic clerk. A cabin attendant, who knew what Strobl was doing, gave him a small silver cross that obviously meant a lot to her.

The plane landed in Minneapolis, and Strobl again saluted as the coffin was off-loaded. He was surprised to see a group of baggage handlers and ground crew who had spontaneously collected behind him, holding their hardhats over their hearts. Apparently they had done this before, and would probably have to do it again.

There was an overnight delay. Though Strobl had hotel reservations, he insisted on remaining with Chance in the baggage holding area. An airport worker loaned him a sleeping bag, which he placed on the floor.

Next morning the loading ritual was repeated, and the airliner took off for Billings, Montana. A young woman sat next to Strobl, and texted her friend that she was next to a “hot soldier.” Strobl saw the message and corrected her, explaining that he was a Marine. Most Marines object to being called soldiers, not wanting to be confused with Army personnel. But one of the greatest Marines, “Manila” John Basilone, referred to himself as a soldier. Note, however, that Strobl did not correct the word “hot.”

When the plane landed in Billings, the off-loading ritual was performed for the last time. As Strobl turned around, he saw the passengers who had deplaned with him also standing respectfully, including the young woman, who was fighting back tears.

The mortician arrived with a hearse, and they set off on the long drive to Wyoming. Along the highway, trucks and cars saw the flag-draped coffin in the back of the hearse, turned on their lights and formed a spontaneous funeral procession.

This scene, and the scenes at the airports, were moving reminders that the heartland remains American at heart. Maybe that’s why they call it heartland. Those who spend their time in Manhattan and Hollywood need to remember this fact. Making anti-military, anti-American, anti-Christian films is alienating much of their audience. Is their leftist agenda worth losing money, or even going out of business? To some, it may be.

Finally the hearse reached Dubois, Wyoming, where the street was lined with people waiting to honor the local hero. That evening, Strobl attended a memorial at the local Veterans of Foreign Wars hall. There he met Chance’s squad mates, who recalled his fun-loving and adventurous spirit. When their convoy was ambushed in Iraq, Chance remained at his machine gun in the vehicle cupola, firing at the enemy and attracting enemy fire to himself, allowing his buddies to take cover. But he died there.

The hardest duty for Strobl was to meet with Chance’s family. He gave them Chance’s watch and dog tags. He also gave them the cross the flight attendant had given him on the plane. He realized that her gift was intended for them.

The next morning, the funeral was held. Though it was impressive, it was almost an anticlimax. The honor that Chance was shown all through the journey was the real theme of the story. Strobl returned to his family and his desk job. But he went on to co-author the screenplay and see Chance’s story filmed.

Kevin Bacon’s performance as Strobl was superb. I can’t think of another actor who could have pulled it off with such quiet dignity and restraint, but a total lack of sentimentality. The supporting cast also was excellent.

We now know that Hollywood still has people with the talent, the ability and the desire to produce outstanding pro-American films. But we had to wait seven and one-half years to see a film that showed our troops as superbly trained, highly motivated, and − most of all − honorable.

And we had to wait seven and one-half years to see a film portraying our people as supportive of our troops in the deepest sense. One might hope that we will not have to wait seven and one-half years more to see another such film. And who knows? The next one may even involve someone who is still alive.

So who was correct, the fictional Colonel Jessep, or the real William Wallace and Dr. King? Can we handle the truth? Can we accept that there are some things worth dying for, and that one of these is freedom? If “Taking Chance” is any guide, I believe that we can face the future with confidence.

The world doesn’t hate America. The Left − including the American Left − hates America. But the rest of us love America and American values as deeply as ever.

The motto of the New York City Police Department is fidelis ad mortem, faithful unto death. I had thought that this was the ultimate of loyalty. But the motto of the United States Marine Corps is semper fidelis, always faithful. Such loyalty continues even after death.

Semper Fi, Chance. We won’t forget. Mike Strobl won’t let us.

Dr. Stolinsky writes on political and social issues. He can be contacted at dstol@prodigy.net.

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