By Annette Lyon

The Mormon Battalion never fought in battle, but some consider the National Guard 222nd of Cedar City, or the “Triple Deuce” as they are often referred to, one of their military descendants. Since its inception, the unit has fought in seven wars from the Mexican War through the Iraq War, including the Civil War, World War I, and World War II. As far as they know, in spite of the numerous dangerous missions the soldiers have encountered, the 222nd has never lost a soldier in battle.

According to Sergeant First Class Dan Gubler, who served with the Triple Deuce in Iraq, the unusual record is due entirely to the hand of Lord watching over the servicemen. The 222nd left for their training January 2005, and their deployment lasted eighteen months—an unusually long tour.

The artillery unit ran into potentially life-threatening situations on a daily basis. They held the Muslim motto, “If it be God’s will” as their own, often volunteering for dangerous missions, but knowing that they needed to trust in Christ, and that if their lives were in order, they would be preserved. And if they died, then it would be God’s will—all would still be well.

They frequently met up with IED’s (Improvised Explosive Devises), and anything that looked like garbage or debris on the side of the road was suspect since IED’s were often planted by the insurgency. On one occasion an IED was disguised to look like a dead body, dressed in full clothing. The enemy knew that U.S. soldiers would have compassion and give it a burial. The base was periodically attacked with shells and rockets. Through it all, the Triple Deuce remained protected.

“I personally have a testimony of Helaman’s promise,” Gubler says, remembering the stripling warriors of the Book of Mormon, another group of righteous young men that never lost a life in battle. He spoke with respect of the amazingly high-caliber men and women of the 222nd, of the prayers given in their behalf, acknowledging that God watched out for them.

Gubler goes on to recount how, when they were training a new battalion to replace them, the new group lost seven soldiers doing the exact same things the Triple Deuce had been performing for about a year without incident.

In the documentary The War Within the War, which chronicles the Triple Deuce in Iraq, Chaplain Gaylon Springer says, “We had guys that parked their vehicles right next to IED’s and nothing happened. . . . We had trucks blown up on both ends of our guys and nothing happened.”

Springer also comments on a powerful lesson the soldiers learned, something that LDS mission presidents often tell their missionaries in the field. In the case of the Triple Deuce, it likely kept the soldiers protected even further: “The unseen enemy for us over there was ourselves a lot of the time. . . . It was when we started to feel like we didn’t have to keep all the rules and restrictions. And yet one of the lessons we learned over there was to be in the right place at the right time doing the right thing.”

The unit made checklists for things they needed to take with them on every mission, such as body armor, food, shaving kit, sleeping bag, and so on. The final item? Say a prayer.

Many credit the fact that no one died to that important practice. Although the vast majority of the soldiers were Latter-day Saints—Gubler estimates 80-85%—religious affiliation didn’t matter. Regardless of the denomination, when it was time to go, they knelt together and prayed.

Spiritual moments weren’t reserved for when it was time to leave for missions, however. Prior to deployment, four Latter-day Saint soldiers were set apart as missionaries, so that while in Iraq they could share the gospel with their fellow soldiers. In at least one case, those efforts paid off, when, on Christmas Day of 2005, they baptized another member of their unit.

“I hadn’t realized he wasn’t a member,” Gubler says. “I wish I could have participated.”

He wasn’t at the baptism, however, because of what had happened about a month before. Gubler and a group of his men encountered another IED that looked like an innocent box at the side of the road. But this time, as they went closer to investigate, the hairs on the back of his head stood up.

Whether an unseen enemy detonated the bomb or whether someone touched it and tripped the device, no one knows. As they walked away with Gubler at the back of the group, it exploded. He was thrown between 30-90 feet and knew immediately that his left arm was gone. His eardrums blew, and he couldn’t see.

But somehow he was still alive. The miracle of the Triple Deuce was still in place.

Gubler spent the next forty-five minutes with a tourniquet on the remaining stump of his arm as they waited for a helicopter to rescue him. He kept command of his men and received a priesthood blessing from one of his lieutenants. For comfort, he hummed Primary songs with his comrades.

“My experiences coming home were very different from most, even from those who are injured,” he says. “I was surrounded by the priesthood.” The difference began even at Walter Reed Medical in Washington, D.C., where miraculously, he found that his doctor, an amputee specialist, was a Latter-day Saint and holder of the Melchizedek priesthood. His nurses were often LDS as well. As he healed, he was surrounded and cared for by the Church.

A few weeks after his injury, a soldier trained in disarming explosives, wearing full protective gear, worked on disarming an IED very much like the one that had injured Gubler. It went off and virtually vaporized the man, bringing home the fact that it’s a pure miracle that Gubler survived at all.

“It’s just awesome that I made it home,” he says. “It was truly a blessing. And you can’t tell me that the Lord didn’t have something to do with that.” After his injury, he reread part of his patriarchal blessing and noticed a line he hadn’t paid particular attention to before: “You will be spared.”

Coming home isn’t easy on soldiers who have faced the trauma of war. Gubler insists that it’s the gospel that has helped his transition and cannot imagine what it would be like without having faith to pull you through. He points out that while war is horrible, it can plant seeds that can later yield good fruit, and that other wars have opened doors that have then led the gospel to other lands, such as with the Korean War.

“I hope I’ve done some good in Iraq,” he says, then points out an important lesson that the gospel provides: “War doesn’t mean we have to lose our humanity.”

If Helaman’s example is any indication, then so is that of Gubler and the noble men he has served with—righteous examples of the height such humanity can reach.

Note: To order the documentary DVD The War Within the War, visit www.majorscaleproductions.com