Photo By Staff Sgt. Natalie Rubenak | U.S. Air Force Maj. Matthew Gallo, Space Base Delta 1 deputy chaplain, stands in the...... read more read more
Subscribe
Part 1
[Warning: This article contains discussions of domestic violence and child abuse, which may be unsuitable for some readers. It is recommended that individuals who are sensitive to these themes exercise caution while reading as the content may be disturbing or upsetting. Reader discretion is advised.]
For Chaplain Gallo, hardship and faith have always been inexorably linked. Greater levels of violence, calls for even stronger faith.
“My father was physically abusive in ways that not even an R-rated movie can show,” Maj. Matthew Gallo, Space Base Delta 1 deputy chaplain, said. “I grew up in a very violent home.”
Gallo was raised in the small town of Ramey, Pennsylvania; among the population of 427 people, Gallo grew up with his older brother, sister, mother and father. Illustrating the battleground he grew up in, Gallo described his mother being the one person who he felt offered him protection from the violent hands of his father.
“My mom was our angel and would physically throw her body in the way of my father’s’ fists that were aimed at myself and my brother,” he stated. “It was very normal to fall asleep every night listening to my mom and dad yelling at each other, and eventually the yelling would stop after my dad would beat her.”
After years of verbal and physical abuse, Gallo pushed through the violence and began to explore Christian faith, however, his feelings of unworthiness plagued his mind, screaming at him to sprint in the opposite direction, becoming a theme in his life.
“I became a Christian at 11 and thoroughly started running from it at 15. I didn’t stop until I was 22,” Gallo stated. “I always felt called to go this path; I was just avoiding it.”
The abuse that shook the walls of their home continued until Gallo graduated high school and enlisted in the U.S. Air Force as an air transportation specialist. What he didn’t realize was that in four short months after signing his name on the dotted line, he would be entering a new type of battleground.
Following the attacks on Sept. 11, 2001, deployments to the Middle East became a never-ending rotation of revolving doors for Gallo. Iraq and Kuwait - these locations hold many memories for Gallo. Some joyous, others haunting, pushing him to begin planning his transition to civilian life.
He made great strides to earn his pilot's license and had his plan all mapped out. Learn to fly, travel to South America and become a missionary pilot. It was simple, and he was hungry to start his new journey.
However, two weeks before his contract was to end, Staff Sgt. Gallo humbly walked into the military personnel flight office to reenlist. Orders to McGuire Air Force Base followed quickly.
“Where is that?” he asked inquisitively. They responded with a prompt “New Jersey.”
His body sunk as he disappointedly repeated, “No...no,” as if his pleas would change the outcome.
He had been stationed in Alaska for four years,; surrounded by green, lush trees and vibrantly cold winters. He admired the solitude that Alaska provided him. Forced to be hypervigilant as a child, Alaska afforded him the opportunity to slow down and reconnect with nature. Gallo felt as though God had taken away all his toys. The vast, mountainous terrain in Alaska was no longer his to enjoy. However, he came to learn that he was right where he needed to be.
“Once I got there, I really grew up in a lot of ways. God put me in a place that was really uncomfortable for me; we were deploying every 18 months and we were getting shot at -- it was just normal.”
After settling into his new home in New Jersey, Gallo headed out the door again to Kuwait. This deployment was memorable for one particular reason. He recalled, “God said, ‘You will go be an active-duty Air Force chaplain.’” Feeling conflicted by this new direction, after having worked so hard to become a missionary pilot, he ceased his mental gymnastics and embraced his new calling.
“After our wrestling match, God broke my heart in such a way that I thought, ‘Why would I ever want to do anything other than military chaplaincy?’” Gallo reflected.
Part 2
[This article contains discussions of military combat, death, and the preparing for the deceased, which may be unsuitable for some readers. It is recommended that individuals who are sensitive to these themes exercise caution while reading as the content may be disturbing or upsetting. Reader discretion is advised.]
Enlisted at the time, Maj. Matthew Gallo’s first deployment was to Rhein-Main Air Base in Germany, also known as the “Gateway to Europe.” Rhein-Main AB was a historic installation, standing tall for almost 60 years, and providing support for military cargo throughout Europe.
Gallo felt frustrated that he and his team were not “in the fight” as he thought they should be. He wanted to be in the action, down range. Though this wasn’t what he pictured when he thought of deploying, his perspective quickly changed.
“This was the best schedule we ever worked in our lives,” Gallo recalled. “It was four-on and three-off, 14-hour days.”
Gallo’s tone shifted as he discussed the nature of his work during that deployment.
“As an air transportation specialist, we didn’t get trained in mortuary affairs; however, all of the bodies were coming through this base, living and dead. When the boxes would arrive, we would have to re-ice them and move them. There was a lot of touching and seeing. Some boxes weren’t as heavy as they should have been for a 190-pound male,” Gallo stated.
He and his team had to process the paperwork as each body came through. In doing so, they learned everything there was to know about the deceased service member. Gallo learned of the member’s children and how the person presumably died. He was intimately involved.
This deployment marked the beginning of combat-related traumas for Gallo.
Gallo described his next deployment to Balad Air Base, Iraq, as the worst one, with mortar attacks happening daily. The attacks were so frequent that when you arrived at the base, people would often say “Welcome to Mortaritaville.”
Over the course of three months, Gallo and his team worked non-stop, sometimes 30 days in a row. This type of work, at this rate of speed, is like a flying a plane without ever refueling. Eventually, you run out of gas, no matter how much you will the plane to fly. Leadership recognized this impending crash and gave the team a day off.
A looming feeling of guilt stuck with Gallo like glue. While he was in the fight, Gallo said he never felt like he was doing enough. He couldn’t allow himself to sit or rest on his day off; he needed to be doing something to help.
As he looked upon the vast desert of sand, Gallo saw row upon row of tan military tents. Among the tents stood one building, alone. The inside was stark white, from floor to ceiling; maybe so it was easier to clean up the blood. This facility was the largest hospital in Iraq, with each room holding a different story of hope and horror. Every day off for three months, Gallo walked to the isolated building, checked vitals for individuals in the intensive care unit, carried stretchers from the helicopter pad, and anything else he could do to be useful.
This continued until Gallo experienced something that still affects him to this day and described it in three words:
“War is Hell.”
“There were some munitions from an enemy attack that hit some children nearby, and the remains were subsequently brought to us,” he said. “I saw men get struck by mortars, which made sense given the context of war, but when I saw little innocent bodies come in like that, it tweaked my brain. I told my team that I was going to pump the brakes on volunteering for a little while. I think I went one more time to volunteer before we came back home, but it was just too much for me.”
For many, experiencing this type of trauma could turn a lot of individuals away from God. For Gallo, it solidified his relationship with his savior. He depicted war as not only hell but as mysterious. He was surrounded by death, but among all the pain, he felt a stronger appreciation for God and the miracles he provided.
Gallo’s third deployment was equally as memorable but for happier reasons. After arriving in Baghdad, Iraq, he headed to the airport terminal counter, which seemed higher than the average height it should be. He did not see a face, but only a pair of eyes meet his from behind the counter.
“My wife is only 4’11”,” he said as he laughed. “I saw the rest of my life in those eyes. I didn’t understand that at the time, and it took me a few years to come to the realization that that’s what the feeling was.”
Erica, Gallo’s wife, was an Army reservist and was on a year-long deployment. Gallo ended up working with her in the PAX terminal, so there were opportunities for him to talk to her. Though not ideal, there was a second place they could see each other. Anytime a mortar attack was imminent, people were sent to bunkers to take shelter; this is where Gallo and Erica spent most of their time getting to know each other.
Over the next few months, they became very close until Gallo’s deployment came to a close, and it was time for him to go home. Erica was staying as her deployment was longer.
“We were on a C-17 heading home,” he said smiling. “Everyone was cheering, and I didn’t want the guys to see me crying. It wasn’t until we got on the rotator that I walked into the bathroom and just lost it. I missed her.”
Now both being back in the states, Gallo and Erica knew they wanted to continue seeing each other. As a reservist, Erica had the flexibility to move and decided to make her way to New Jersey to be closer to Gallo.
Eight months later, Gallo spent a day planning how he would ask Erica to marry him. He scoured Jersey for a farmer that would let Gallo write something out in their field by pinning down tarp material to form each letter.
A large smile came across his face as he said, “I had a plan to write out ‘Erica, will you marry me please,’ but I ran out of tarp, so it just said, ‘Erica marry me.’”
Utilizing his pilot’s license, he flew her up over the field, banked left, and pulled out the engagement ring as she looked out the window. They have been married for 14 years.
Part 3
After 23 years in service and six combat-related deployments under his belt, Maj. Matthew Gallo, Space Base Delta 1 deputy chaplain, earned the Military Chaplains Association’s Distinguished Service Award for the number one Chaplain in support of the U.S. Space Force.
This award is presented to those who epitomize the Air Force core values and what it means to be a chaplain.
“Myself and another chaplain were picked by the Department of the Air Force Chief of Chaplaincy Corps to be part of two writing groups. The Chief of Staff of the Air Force is implementing our ‘spiritual fitness’ playbook. This will be given to all officers and help them understand how to utilize their chaplain throughout their careers.”
He humbly attributed his success to his Chaplaincy team, who encouraged him to submit for the award, boasting that this is the best staff he’s ever worked for.
As a chaplain, Gallo serves as a religious leader, guiding the spiritual and moral well-being of service members and their families. This duty often involves significant hardship, as chaplains are who people turn to in their darkest moments.
The rolling chair creaked as Gallo shifted in his seat, looking down at his hands. He took several minutes to process his words and then recounted one of the most influential moments in his career.
“She called me and told me she had a gun to her head,” Gallo illustrated. “The conversation was the same for about six months; she would call up and say she wanted to kill herself. We eventually got to the ‘why.’”
The individual was working through severe trauma and Gallo happened to be the chaplain on-call during that time. He expressed that, as a chaplain, religion is not pushed on those they work with, but in this circumstance, she decided she wanted to commit her life to God. A year and half after convincing her to take the gun away from her head, Gallo baptized the young woman on the shore surrounding MacDill Air Force Base, Florida.
“The question, ‘What makes this makes sense?’ is what truly takes us straight to the heart of the human being that we are dealing with,” Gallo said. “She taught me to ask that question.”
There was no fanfare, medal or recognition after his experience.
“It was just honest-to-God chaplaincy; walking with her in the trenches of her life,” Gallo said. “Her story is the heartbeat of what it means to be a chaplain.”
Gallo shared that weight that chaplains carry can be overwhelming at times and after returning from his sixth combat-related deployment 2023, he chronicled a time in his life where he needed additional support.
“When I got back from Africa, all six deployments kind of meshed together in my head,” Gallo said. “I didn’t feel much of anything at that point.”
He went on to describe a tiredness that went beyond mere fatigue. He repeated the word “tired.” A tiredness of the heart, arising from many compartmentalized traumas he witnessed.
“Once we get back from deployment, we forget to open that box back up,” he stated. “It’s going to open itself up eventually and not on our terms. Some people handle it well, and others struggle more.”
He openly described seeking care at the mental health clinic.
“After about eight or nine sessions, I asked my therapist, do you have any diagnoses on me? Am I okay?’ and she stated, ‘Oh Matt, I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you. I diagnosed you with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder within the first 30 minutes of sitting down and talking with you.’”
He looked at her and cried, finally feeling heard.
While this comment may seem inappropriate to some, Gallo chuckled as he reminisced on the irony of the interaction. At the time, he was unable to pinpoint why he wasn’t feeling much of anything. The therapist made it sound so simple: PTSD.
Gallo’s wife, Erica, was the first person that led him to mental health. They met while deployed in 2008 to Baghdad, Iraq, and have been married for 14 years.
When asked who he thought has been an integral part of his life and career, without hesitation, he began to describe Erica.
“That woman is an incredible human being,” Gallo described. “When I married her, I married so far above my character paygrade. She is more than I ever deserved in life. It’s her loving acceptance that has been a way for me to be the best dad, husband and Chaplain I can be. I am forever grateful for her loving support in this and countless other areas in my life.”
The support of his wife and mental health counselor made all the difference in Gallo’s life and journey of healing. He listed three things he feels are the most important on the journey: counseling, mentors and truth.
“When I say truth, I mean honest-to-God truth. Truth like most human beings never do,” Gallo exclaimed. “You can tell them anything. Truth sets us free.”
Looking back, Gallo expressed that he wouldn’t change anything about the life he’s lived. However, he would tell his younger self something.
“I would tell and show myself that you are more worthy, powerful, enlightening, and stronger than you can possibly imagine because of Him who strengthens you,” Gallo stated.
Gallo eventually made peace with his earliest traumas when he and his father healed their relationship before his passing in 2019. “We were very much a father and son finally, and I praise God for that miracle."
Through unwavering faith, Gallo is prepared to shepherd his flock with resilience, guiding them through whatever challenges lie ahead.
| Date Taken: | 09.05.2024 |
| Date Posted: | 09.05.2024 11:26 |
| Story ID: | 480152 |
| Location: | COLORADO SPRINGS, COLORADO, US |
| Web Views: | 342 |
| Downloads: | 0 |
This work, The Shepherd: Maj. Matthew Gallo, by SSgt Natalie Rubenak, identified by DVIDS, must comply with the restrictions shown on https://www.dvidshub.net/about/copyright.
No keywords found.
