CHAPLAIN DANIEL BRAVO
US ARMY

Chaplain Daniel Bravo is a Vietnam vet who yearned to fight for his beloved country but discovered that the fight would wind up nearly killing him. Raised in East Los Angeles, Bravo is the eldest of seven brothers. His early years were difficult because although Bravo’s native language was Spanish, teachers wanted the young boy to only speak English. Shy and unsure of himself, Bravo was vulnerable to the gangs that he said “harassed him, trying to get him to join.”

Determined not to join a gang, Richard Diaz, a local in the neighborhood, taught him martial arts, which ended up saving Bravo from going against his gut. At Stephenson Junior High, the other kids continued picking on him, calling him a bookworm and one day, Bravo had enough.

“One of the guys from the gang started bothering me,” said Bravo. “He was beating me pretty badly and I punched him in the face with everything I had. He fell to the floor and from then on out, the other kids stopped messing with me.”

Rather than joining a gang, Bravo stood on his own two feet but still got into trouble because of fighting. He used his fists to protect other kids who were unable to defend themselves. Despite his rebellious nature, Bravo graduated from Junior High with good grades and in 1963, he attended Garfield High School.

“That is when I started hearing about the Vietnam War,” explained Bravo. “I started hearing about it on the radio or in the paper.”

In eleventh grade, Bravo joined the ROTC program, which excited the hopeful young adolescent. It became something that made him feel alive. Learning how to shoot the M1 machine guns and other weapons, self-defense was the theme of this program – something that Bravo was interested in at an early age. This inner passion pulled him away from academics and having spent time with veterans and hearing about their stories, Bravo stated, “My heart went out to them.”

On April 2, 1968, Bravo got a letter in the mail that said, “Report Day.” He knew it was his draft papers and he was happy. “I knew what that meant,” he said. “I knew what was involved – boot camp and possibly going to Vietnam, a place I wanted to go to like all the other guys my age.”

Bravo’s journey began at Fort Ord an Army base where he went for basic training in California. He became a squad leader and was already prepared because of his ROTC training.

“A Drill Sergeant took me under his wing,” Bravo said. “He said he would teach me ‘combat-aikido."

“What’s that?” Bravo asked.

“I am going to teach you every killing point,” replied the Drill Sergeant.

Upon graduation from boot camp, everyone was shipped off to Vietnam except for Bravo, who really wanted to go and do what he’s most enthusiastic about – fighting for those who needed assistance. However, Bravo recalls his Sergeant Major explaining to him that before Vietnam, he would be sent to a special school where the ambitious soldier would be taught how to lead troops into war. Reluctant, Bravo followed his orders but chose to study to be a Sergeant instead of an officer.

“I loved the program and all the classes but instead of going to Vietnam, my Sergeant called me into his office and told me that he wanted me to train troops to prepare for Vietnam,” said Bravo.

Rather than take on this mission, he decided to go AWOL and as a result, Bravo was in trouble. He was warned that he may be sent to Fort Leavenworth for four years, a military prison, and would also receive a dishonorable discharge.

“They asked me if I had anything to say,” recalls Bravo. “I told them that all I wanted to do was go to Vietnam. I wanted to fight for my country.”

Suddenly, a Colonel demanded that his handcuffs be removed. “This is not a criminal,” he said.

Bravo was granted his request, which ended up transforming his entire life into a painful place where fear followed him around for many years. However, sometimes life deals us a hand for a reason. Bravo found that reason years later, but it began in Vietnam.

On October 22, 1968, Bravo’s plane landed in Guam and it was frightening. “Our first greeting by the General in charge was a rough one,” explained Bravo. “He lined us up and walked us into another building where you could smell death."

“We had to load body bags onto carts and into the large C-140 cargo planes coming back to the states. I have never forgotten that smell. In that moment, I said to myself, ‘I am going to die here.”

And in a way, he did.

Feeling prepared for his mission, Bravo went by truck to Zeon, a Big Red One base that had been there since 1965. Many soldiers had already died at the spot.

“The North Vietnamese would hide in caves and would come out at night and try to ambush us,” said Bravo. “We had to conduct many night patrol missions. I was on radio patrol at the firebase and would receive detailed information that I would then forward in code using an on-base antenna. My job was to protect our camp.”

During the last months of 1968, Bravo said that they were losing soldiers every day. “It was hard to keep a Lieutenant or Sergeant to command any units because we were losing them so fast.”

Gun fire was always heard in the distance. Thousands of men, women and children died daily and when a Chaplain came to pray with Bravo and his fellow soldiers, they realized that since they may very well die there, “it was our last chance to get it right with God.”

“We walked up to him and we let him pray and he said something that has been with me ever since,” recalls Bravo. “He said, ‘God, no matter what these soldiers are, protect them, wherever they go and whatever they do. Touch their hearts.’”

We were getting ready for a reconnaissance mission, the 1st Cavalry, the Big Red One, 25th Infantry, 173rd Airborne. The units got behind the tanks and we started busting bush and worked our way through the brush while Credence Clearwater was blasting through the speakers. After this battle, I went on two more missions and I had like two months left and I was feeling hope again.

During his time spent in Vietnam, Bravo received a Vietnam Service Medal, a Bronze Star and a Commendation Medal.

“It was hard later in my life to look at my medals because I began to cry and remember all those soldiers and people who died,” said Bravo. “We protected a lot of people and I thank God for bringing me home. How I made it, I will never fully understand."

“When we departed Vietnam, our 747 plane got hit by a 51-caliber shell and we had to come back down,” remembers Bravo. “I did not feel safe until we took off again and we were pretty far in the air and we all yelled with joy.

“Everyone knew we would never be the same as we talked on our way home.”

On June 11, 1970, Bravo returned to the United States and landed in Oakland, California. “I remember getting off the plane and kissing the ground,” he said. “I said to myself that I will never get on another airplane again – I never have.”

After medical evaluations where the soldiers discovered that they had jungle fungus and leaches, they flew from Oakland to LAX (Los Angeles Airport) and through the plane windows, “We saw a lot of people waiting for us to welcome us home,” said Bravo.

However, as soon as they stepped out of the plane, Bravo realized the truth. A riot erupted and the soldiers were scuffed up. “I was bruised up a bit and I was in a torn uniform with all my medals."

“They had our families in a security section and sense that day things have never been the same. I was able to clean myself up, but I was angry. So, when my family saw me for the first time, they knew something was wrong.”

Everything changed for Bravo. The first three years back at home were brutal. He took on jobs where he was able to work nights because sleep was impossible.

“I never went out during the day, I was confined to my little space,” recalls Bravo. “I put my family through hell those years. I did some crazy stuff."

“I got my GED and went to the Veterans Administration for college assistance. I was sent to a trade school and studied plumbing, air conditioning, heating and other classes.”

Drinking heavily now (especially at night), Bravo still did his best to maintain a normal life. In 1970 he was married, saved money to buy a house in San Dimas, and had three kids - 2 boys and 1 girl.

“I would drink all night and was pretty distant from my family. I also fought a lot with protesters and this went on for years. I put my children through a lot of drama and in 1991, we got divorced,” explained Bravo.

In order to deal with flashbacks and sleepless nights, Bravo would do the only thing he knew how to do at the time – drink at bars and get into fights to alleviate the pain.

“I got into fights with men that were at the bars,” said Bravo, “hoping one of them would kill me."

“One time, I was stopped by the police and when I refused a sobriety test, they started yelling and I tried to explain to them that I was a veteran and deserved more respect. They took me to jail and gave me a beat down.”

In 1989, Bravo’s drinking ended with a terrible bang. The SWAT team came to his home and he was sent to jail. “A Chaplain came to see me and explained that in life, we have choices to make,” remembers Bravo. “He mentioned a program for PTSD.”

Before that moment, Bravo had never heard of PTSD before. The Chaplain explained that if he continued going down a road of destruction – drinking and fighting – he would get killed or die in prison.

“I got drunk one more night after that,” said Bravo. “I was with three girls and we planned to party. I had a gun for myself, it was loaded. I prayed, saying, ‘please God, if you are real, you need to tell me right now."

“I walked out of the room and purchased small bibles for everyone. Something happened to me that night. I told the girls that I was going back to God.”

Spending two years in a program for PTSD, Bravo learned about what was going on with him. Having a better knowledge of his condition, the thing that saved him though was being around other veterans who struggled as he did.

“One day a Marine who never usually spoke in our meetings stood up and started talking about this battle where his unit was trapped in a ravine,” Bravo said. “They had lost many Marines and he was sending out a distress call. I stood up and said that it was my unit who heard his distress call. I was on the radio and he called in for help and I remember calling in coordinates for our Cobra Helicopters to attack the area around the ravine and they cleared it out."

“When we went down for clean-up [picking up the dead and placing them in body bags], there were countless American bodies and sixteen Marines had survived the ordeal."

“We hugged each other and I took him up to Azusa Canyon to a place that looked just like a place similar to Vietnam and we prayed together. He opened up and bawled and felt at peace that day. I never saw him again.”

Bravo’s journey turned into a spiritual one and like all spiritual paths, he fell a few times but never stayed down for long. With a second divorce under his belt, Bravo got discouraged but he never again forgot God. In 1991, a lump was detected in his head and doctors told Bravo that he had less than a year to live.

“Without knowing anyone there, I chose Arizona as the place to spend my last days,” Bravo said. “I took a job collecting rent in a bad area and the units had many gangs living there and I knew that this was my calling."

“I cleaned up those apartments of the drugs and I talked to gang members. They understood me and that is when I knew God was working in my life.”

Time passed and eventually, Bravo went back home to the Veteran’s Hospital that predicted his death and discovered a miracle. After checking files, they realized that his social security number got mixed up with another person who had a similar tumor and Bravo did not have cancer.

With God walking beside him, Bravo felt what he had to do next. It was his destiny to become a Chaplain.

“I went through a long process before becoming a Chaplain, which is called prospecting, said Bravo, “but in 2001, I became the Regional Chaplain and have visited many cities, working with veterans."

“I am proud of our country. I am proud of my heritage. The only thing I strongly dislike are those who would treat our proud soldiers wrong.”

Bravo will spend the remainder of his life offering a helping hand to fellow soldiers. It is his destiny and he wants soldiers to know that there is hope out there.

“You are not alone,” said Bravo.

— Story by: Megan Rellahan - Interview by: Alfredo Perez