*Desert Moon
\nGrove*<\/A>. It wasn’t a coven, in the traditional sense, but a meeting place
\nfor all pagans within FOB Sykes. It was a place to learn, debate, and
\nask questions more than a place of worship. Though they did the
\noccasional ritual together, upon request.<\/P>
\nJust being in the tent with so many magickal people made my heart sing.
\nI felt so full of energy that I probably could run two miles
\nwithout losing my breath. This was where I had belonged, around others
\nso much like myself. I had been by myself in all of my short time as a
\npagan that I never really knew what it was like to be surrounded by so
\nmany wonderful people.<\/P>
\n
When I got back to my CHU (Combat Housing Unit), the sergeant inside had
\na lot of questions. At first I was nervous about answering them; he made
\nfun of me the most through Graf. and Hohenfels. It got easier and easier
\nthough, because he was genuinely interested in learning about my faith.
\nWe talked about magick, myths, and about how the group was run. By the
\nend of that night, I had a devout catholic interested in learning about
\nan alternative religion and not be judgmental about it.<\/P>
\n
I am here now in Tel Afar, Iraq, able to practice my religion freely and
\nwithout fear, talk to the other guys when they have their questions, and
\njust be myself. Since I have told everyone of my faith I have never
\nfelt so free in my life! Now, I understand that there is still prejudice
\nin the world, and that I shouldn’t go around screaming, "I am pagan hear
\nme roar!" at the top of my lungs. And, I don’t expect anyone else to do
\nit either.<\/P>
\n
***<\/P>
\n
author bio:<\/P>
\n
Don Grant<\/P><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Like most military pagan, I was a little apprehensive about stepping out of the broom closet for fear of the possible repercussions that might occur. Though, my experience has shown me, coming out was the best decision I have made in my short military career. Everyone in my platoon found out that I was a pagan believer in the fall of 2005 at a training area in Germany called Hohenfels. I was laying on my cot reading a book on Wiccan beliefs and practices when someone asked me if I believed in what I was reading. In a panic, I closed the book and got off my cot and headed for the entrance to our tent in hopes of a clean getaway. My efforts were thwarted because they asked me again just before I hit the door. I just nodded my head and proceeded to exit the tent. After that my greatest worry came to be; they teased, taunted, and asked questions that I knew to be insincere. This kept up all the until the end of our gunnery in Graffenwoher Germany. I thought there’d be no end to the suffering. So I asked the Lord and Lady one night to help them open their minds and see that my religion was just that, mine. I just wanted them to leave me alone. By the time we redeployed back to Friedberg, Germany, all the torment ceased. It was like they had all forgotten what I was; and this lapse of memory was definitely a welcome thing. I didn’t hear anymore about it until we all touched ground in Iraq. (And this time, it was of my own doing.) One day I went to eat chow at the FOB Sykes chow hall. I noticed on the door a sign posting all the times for the different religious services. I always stop to look at these in hopes of seeing something that pertained to me. This day, I found it. On the very bottom of the sign it read: *Pagan Fellowship: 1930 *(7:30 PM)* At The Old Chapel*! So, after chow I ran to my sergeant and asked to be able to attend it later on that evening. He immediately told me I could without hesitation. I will never forget that first night I went. I even showed up thirty minutes early just so I wouldn’t miss a thing. Well, I waited about half an hour before I saw two people walking towards me. As the two silhouettes moved closer my heart was pounding with excitement, and before I knew it I heard, "You here for the pagan meeting?" I told them that I was and they told me to follow them. They explained to me that they didn’t use the old chapel anymore and that they have a separate place to meet up every night, and that they used the old chapel as a benchmark for all the new-comers. I was led into an old army tent with Christmas lights strewn across the outside. On the inside was a new pagans playground! They had lots of books, candles, herbs, and anything else you could think of for practicing pagans in a war zone. Also the head of the group’s alter was set up in there; it was a beautiful alter honoring the great goddess Morrighan. Well, they offered me a seat, some coffee, and asked me to fill out a questionnaire that was inside a folder. In this folder was all the information, history, and regulations of their group, *Desert Moon Grove*. It wasn’t a coven, in the traditional sense, but a meeting place for all pagans within FOB Sykes. It was a place to learn, debate, and ask questions more than a place of worship. Though they did the occasional ritual together, upon request. Just being in the tent with so many magickal people made my heart sing. I felt so full of energy that I probably could run two miles without losing my breath. This was where I had belonged, around others so much like myself. I had been by myself in all of my short time as a pagan that I never really knew what it was like to be surrounded by so many wonderful people. When I got back to my CHU (Combat Housing Unit), the sergeant inside had a lot of questions. At first I was nervous about answering them; he made fun of me the most through Graf. and Hohenfels. It got easier and easier though, because he was genuinely interested in learning about my faith. We talked about magick, myths, and about how the group was run. By the end of that night, I had a devout catholic interested in learning about an alternative religion and not be judgmental about it. I am here now in Tel Afar, Iraq, able to practice my religion freely and without fear, talk to the other guys when they have their questions, and just be myself. Since I have told everyone of my faith I have never felt so free in my life! Now, I understand that there is still prejudice in the world, and that I shouldn’t go around screaming, "I am pagan hear me roar!" at the top of my lungs. And, I don’t expect anyone else to do it either. *** author bio: Don Grant<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"iawp_total_views":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-273","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/273","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=273"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/273\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=273"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=273"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/paganpages.org\/emagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=273"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}