SULAYMANIYAH, Iraq — Every Sunday evening for the past few months, some of the boys of Battery B congregate in their small, second-floor dining room on base in Sulaymaniyah, Iraq.

They come for nourishment, though it’s sustenance of a different sort the soldiers seek as they settle in at one of the four tables. Amid the containers and packets of mustard, ketchup and hot pepper sauce are manuals of faith, such as the New Testament and The Book of Mormon.

“We have a good little service here,” said 30-year-old Staff Sgt. John Murdoch, who often leads this group of warriors in worship.

Mormons toting M-16s is not an image that readily comes to mind when pondering the spiritual leanings of soldiers. And yet Mormons do serve, and have for generations, harking back to Capt. Jefferson Hunt in the mid-1800s.

The list of Mormons who have left an indelible mark of military service is longer than people think. There’s Gail Halvorsen, the “candy bomber” of the Berlin Airlift; Army Lt. Gen. James King; Air Force Gen. Robert Oaks; and retired Air Force Col. Bernard F. Fisher, the first airman to ever receive the Medal of Honor — and live to tell about it.

Fisher’s story is compelling.

In 1966, while flying over the A-Shau Valley in Vietnam, his wingman is shot down. A Special Forces team is near the downed pilot, but rescue is not imminent. So Fisher lands his plane, rescues the flier and departs while his aircraft gets peppered 19 times by enemy fire.

Iraq is no different. Currently, there are 14,000 Mormons in the military. A large National Guard contingent from Utah and Idaho — Battery B, 1st Battalion, 148th Field Artillery — is deployed in the northeast, where Sulaymaniyah is located. Many are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

“People have to fight for our freedom,” Murdoch, a resident of Shelley, Idaho, said after the service, “or we won’t be able to worship as we want.”

Sunday worship services at Forward Operating Base Stone are unique, if only for the setting. On the walls of the dining room are notes and charts reminding troops of operational security, leadership procedures and maintenance. A pair of glass windows face west, fly strips hang from the curtain rods, pictures of Europe adorn the room and a soda cooler constantly hums, though not enough to drown out the singing.

Murdoch swings his right arm like a symphony conductor as 18 soldiers sing loud and hit just about every note.

“Those boys can sing,” said U.S. Army Corps of Engineer employee Dave Varner, a non-Mormon who recently took in one of the worship services.

There are scripture readings and open discussions. Few, if any, of the soldiers need to be prompted to participate. As hands shoot up, Murdoch first addresses the attendees as “Brother” followed by his last name.

The service typically draws 15 to 25 soldiers, a decent turnout given the size of the base and the dynamic nature of serving in a war zone.

On this day, the talk is deeply reflective; other times there is levity and laughter. Murdoch later steers the conversation to the presumed Second Coming of Christ and a passage that hints of “wars and rumors of war” that will precede it.

“We are kind of seeing that right now, aren’t we?” Murdoch notes.

During the service, the view outside turns heavenly. The setting sun reveals a kaleidoscope of colors: blue, purple, red, orange, yellow and green.

But few seem to notice. Like good soldiers, their attention is trained on Murdoch. It’s that focus that has served them well in war — and in peace.

“War won’t impede with my beliefs as a Christian,” said Spc. Jason McCurdy of West Valley City, Utah. “If it takes war to maintain our beliefs, then that’s what it takes.”