It would be very rare, as the SFQC is an MOS producing Course, and the Army would lose the services of a Chaplain while he is in the pipeline. More likely for an SF qualified guy to get out and go to Seminary to get qualified as a Chaplain. Our 7th Group Chaplain was a Major who had been an SF SSG or SFC in Vietnam and ran Recon. He had earned a Silver Star there. He married my wife and I and he went on to retire as a Colonel. Great man, proud to have him as a friend.
Probably make a lot more sense to ask for Ranger School.
Having said that...
TR
Unconventional Warfare
Leadership secrets of a Green Beret chaplain.
Tim Crawley CH (CPT)
http://www.christianitytoday.com/le/...tml?paging=off
What do a preacher, a new CEO, and a Green Beret have in common? They all seek to change a culture from within their jungles.
A preacher navigates the jungle of spiritual entanglements. The new CEO seeks to change the wasteful or complacent jungles of past failures. The Green Beret lives in remote jungles of conflicted areas persuading village chiefs of geo-political realities. The jungles are different. The resources are different.
The heart of the mission is not. Each seeks to change a culture. This means changing people's assumptions, loyalties, and efforts. It is every leader's greatest challenge.
As a military chaplain and spiritual leader, I learned this vividly during my training with Special Forces (SF).
After my chaplaincy training, I was given the opportunity to attend the Army's Special Forces Assessment and Selection (SFAS). Upon successfully completing selection, I was invited to attend the Special Forces Qualification Course, the arduous "Q Course," approximately 18 months of physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual exhaustion.
You are trained by "the cadre," seasoned Green Berets who ensure that you are challenged with physical, mental, and ethical dilemmas. This training is designed to ensure that those who graduate are able to represent the strategic interests of the United States with minimal supervision and significant authority.
The "bread and butter" mission set for Special Forces is Unconventional Warfare, which is defined as "operations conducted by, with, or through irregular forces in support of a resistance movement, an insurgency, or conventional military operations." Not to get tangled in the military lingo, this simply means being intentional in your efforts, in the people you work with, and in your purpose.
Changing a culture requires intentionality. But intentionality without focus can be the difference between a child's night light and a surgical laser. Whether we are ministers facing evils of "the world, the flesh, and the devil" or whether we are SF preparing a village to resist the Taliban, we are taking on culture change in a challenging context.
During this training, what I learned about Unconventional Warfare has uncanny application for ministry leadership. There are seven phases of Unconventional Warfare. Allow me to tell my story through these seven phases.
Preparation
I appreciate the phrase "Not all activity is productivity." As an Army chaplain, I enjoy being surrounded by type-A personalities, goal-oriented and motivated. I get jazzed as I consider the possibility of a church full of men like Peter. Just imagine the benefit for the Kingdom of God with a group of all-or-nothing men on fire for the Lord and their families! That was one reason I was excited to attend the Q course, where I'd be among this kind of men.
Jeremiah 12:5 says, "If you have run with footmen and they have wearied you, how can you contend with horses?" My heart was pounding and I questioned my sanity when I agreed to attend the Q Course. What have I just gotten myself into? I was a non-tactically trained chaplain about to contend with horses half his age. But I wanted unfettered access to these men, and taking the full SF training was an important step.
My preparation phase included getting up at 2 a.m. to go on 16-mile road marches with a 65-pound pack, then going to work, working out for two hours at the end of work, extensive foot conditioning, going home to juggle family time, recovery, and hitting the manuals. Many evenings and weekends included land navigation (often at night, over unfamiliar terrain), map reading, and route planning training. This was all just to pass the three-week selection test hoping I'd get selected to move on to the Q course.
Cheating the preparation phase is a great temptation for a leader. In ministry too, many times we fail before we get started because of poor preparation. In order to lead successfully in changing your culture, you cannot bypass the lonely and laborious phase of preparation-physically, mentally, emotionally.
Initial contact
For SF, initial contact means getting in there and taking a thorough first look-the proverbial sneak-behind-the-curtains-so you know what you're dealing with before making any drastic decisions or commitment of resources.
In ministry, people's initial contact with you often begins with your reputation.
It's what people know (or think they know) about you.
"Your reputation in the regiment starts now." If I heard that once, I heard it 300 times. The military is a fairly self-contained culture. And in a culture like that, word travels fast. Your reputation, your character, and your performance of yesterday follows you into tomorrow.
Yes, "the Lord grants favor, and controls the king's heart," as Scripture says.
Yes, "He redeems our failures and the years that the locusts have eaten." But we can't forget that "a good name is rather to be chosen than great riches."
The man of God walks with integrity of heart, treats all as image bearers, and lives from clearly defined principles.
For example, "Mr. X" was perhaps the crudest and most vile man I have ever encountered. He also happened to be one of my primary instructors for Small Unit Tactics training. From the beginning, he made it clear that he did not like me. In fact, one night after coming in from doing patrols, we were filthy and exhausted. He called me out in front of everyone.
Oh great, I thought. What now? Eloquently and profanely he expressed his complete disdain for me, a chaplain, being in the course. He boisterously stated that a chaplain had no business here where "real soldiers" were training because their lives depended on it. After 10 minutes of berating, he sent me back to my squad. Some of the men tried to console me; others simply kept their distance from me.
Fast forward two months. Once again after coming in from patrols, we were filthy and exhausted. Once again, Mr. X called me out in front of everyone.
Once again it was a 10-minute ordeal. This time, however, he concluded: "Chaplain, you ask a lot of questions. You ask some dumb questions ... but you are hungry to learn. You are learning from your stupid mistakes, and the mistakes of others. I know I told you I didn't think you belonged here, but some of your teammates have a lot to learn from you. I wish everyone coming through this course had your attitude. The regiment would be better for it."
Could this really be happening? Was that actually a compliment Mr. X just gave me? Apparently so. From that moment on, I was "in" with him and his life. I have seen him multiple times since graduating, and each time we greeted each other with a hug and warm exchanges.
Your initial contact opens the door for you to implement needed change.
(cont. below)