Iraq War veteran Yauo Yang fulfills his promise to God

WAUSAU - Two weeks into his deployment to Samarra, Iraq, Spc. Yauo Yang watched a friend get killed by a bomb planted in the street.

It was Dec. 26, 2004, and Yang was walking behind Staff Sgt. Todd Olson, who was leading a foot patrol of the Wisconsin National Guard's 32nd Infantry Brigade. The men were in file formation — walking single file a few yards apart — when the device exploded.

"I was no more than 10 yards away," Yang said. "The shock wave was so powerful I felt it in my abdomen. It burst my eardrum. But I didn't get hit with any shrapnel or debris."

Just hours later, Olson, who was married and a father of four, died in an Army medical facility.

As Yang mourned Olson, who was from Loyal and Yang's friend and mentor, he wondered whether he would leave Iraq alive. He was 24 years old, married, and his wife, Mayla Thao Yang, was pregnant with their first child. Bombs were everywhere, and militants were growing bolder in the Sunni Triangle.

All Yang could do was take it step by step and day by day. Each morning when he woke, he prayed: "Hey, God, if you can bring me back to my bunk, I will thank you."

Each day, he believes, God answered his prayer.

Those weren't empty promises he made in Iraq, and thanking God meant more than words to Yang. His battlefield prayers led him, years later, to form and lead a new church in Wausau, The Cross. But that wasn't enough. Now he's searching for ways to develop a gospel rescue mission that will feed the hungry and shelter the homeless.

It all comes from a sense of gratitude mixed with an uncommon devotion to duty that Yang has felt since he was a kid.

Life molded by war

War has always defined the trajectory of Yang's life.

He was born in the refugee camp Ban Vinai in Thailand, home to tens of thousands of people, mostly Hmong, who fled Laos in the wake of a communist takeover of that country.

Hmong soldiers made up the bulk of Gen. Vang Pao's guerrilla army, which fought for the United States during the Vietnam War. Based in Laos, Vang Pao's fighters had three major missions: Disrupt the flow of North Vietnamese military supplies on the Ho Chi Minh Trail, guard a secret American radar installation and rescue downed American pilots.

When America pulled out of Vietnam, the Hmong people streamed out of Laos into the safety of Thailand. Yang wasn't born yet, but his parents and three older siblings were part of that exodus. The children would not survive.

Yang heard the stories of his three older siblings who died from poor health and nutrition, and he thought a lot about them when he was growing up, particularly when he was a teen attending Wausau West High School.

"I thought, 'Why did they die and why did I live?'" Yang said.

Yang graduated from Wausau West in 2000 and enrolled in the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point, where he majored in communication and political science.

"I was going to be the next Connie Chung," he said. "Then 9/11 happened. That event really changed me."

The attacks on the United States and the deaths of nearly 3,000 innocent people in 2001 weighed heavily on Yang.

"I knew I had to go and fight for our country," he said.

He signed up for the National Guard in 2002. He was 20 years old and not yet a citizen of the United States.

The war in Iraq was a brutal, depressing affair for Yang, but he made the most of it. Whenever possible, he would interact with Iraqi children, engaging them in conversation if he could.

He and other 32nd Infantry soldiers worked closely with Iraqi security forces, and he made efforts to befriend them, too. It was difficult, at best, because you didn't know whether the people you were helping to train were true friends. But he assumed the best, and the relationships he did build lasted the entire time he was in Iraq.

"Today my heart still burns for those guys," Yang said. "I don't know whether they are dead or alive."

Returning home

Yang thanked God each and every day for being able to return to central Wisconsin, but that didn't mean coming home was easy.

"I don't think (the war) ever leaves you," Yang told the Wausau Daily Herald in 2011, seven years after his deployment. He spoke about nightmares he experienced.

"It's like a flashback dream. It brings me back to that place," he said. "For now, I want to put it behind me. It's like living through that experience night after night. It's kind of tough for it to come back to haunt you. And it's one of those things you can't control. ... I want to have all that stuff washed out of my brain, but it's not that easy."

Through it all, Yang remembered his promise to God in Iraq, and worked to keep it. But he struggled with that, as well. He constantly took stock of himself and his life and asked the question: Am I doing what God wants me to do with my life?

The promise, he said, was like "carrying a burden in my heart."

Yang made changes in his life because of the promise as soon as he returned from Iraq. He went back to UW-Stevens Point, but changed majors. He decided he wanted to become a teacher and work with kids.

Meanwhile, he and Mayla continued to add to their family, eventually having six children.

He got more serious about his spiritual life. He regularly attended services at the First Hmong Missionary Alliance Church in Wausau. He started teaching Sunday school. He became an elder. But it didn't feel like it was enough.

"I think God said, 'You can do a lot more,'" Yang said.

So he plunged deep into Bible study and started taking classes and taking steps to  become a pastor.

When he achieved that goal, he spoke with mentors and fellow clergymen. He decided that he would become a "church planter" and start his own congregation. His church would reach out to people of various backgrounds and ethnic groups.

Martin Luther King Jr. once said the most segregated hour in the nation was 11 a.m. on Sunday, and Yang has taken that notion to heart. A church, he said, should be diverse, and he went about creating one and inviting people of all backgrounds and racial makeup to services. He called it The Cross.

At first The Cross met in his home. Then it needed to be expanded, so Yang rents space at the Bridge Street Mission at 115 W. Bridge St. in Wausau.

But establishing the church wasn't enough.

He started reaching out to prisoners, visiting the Marathon County Jail to provide Bible study opportunities. He welcomed people struggling with addictions, with homelessness.

As he wrestled with ways to help those people, he took more classes and training, and has become a certified recovery coach.

That still isn't enough.

Now Yang is searching for ways to open what he calls a gospel rescue mission, a place where hungry people can get food to eat and homeless people can find shelter.

The Salvation Army in Wausau does good work, but it can't meet all the needs in the community, Yang said.

Right now, the gospel rescue mission isn't beyond the idea phase, but Yang is looking for ways to fund such the project, as well as a place to house it. He'll soon need a new home for The Cross, too, because the rental agreement with the Bridge Street Mission is due to end early next year.

None of this surprises Anne Merryfield, a now-retired English as a Second Language teacher who first got to know Yang as a bright young boy. "He's always looking for a way to give back," Merryfield said. "He's such a good person."

Yang is not sure where it all will end, but his heart tells him that this way to help people most in need might be his way to thank God.

"This is what I want to do. I don't just want to be a Sunday morning pastor," Yang said. "We can provide for the spiritual support. But first we need to provide physical support. The two go together."

Find out more about The Cross

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