Henry Dobbins is a large, strong man who is defined by his simplicity and goodness. He lacks sophistication, considers himself to have average intelligence, and leans toward a sentimental perspective of the world. His earnest nature and firm moral code make him easily likable. Although he never uses his size or physical power to intimidate other men, he does exhibit a sort of mental strength by holding true to his values, such as when he admonishes Azar for mocking the young girl dancing outside the burned home that holds the bodies of her entire family. Additionally, he seems to have a certain amount of earnest faith. For instance, he wears his girlfriend’s pantyhose as a good luck charm and is never wounded in the field. When his girlfriend breaks up with him, Henry simply claims that it doesn’t matter – the pantyhose still carries its magic regardless. In a way, this statement helps to release his fellow men from their own emotional dependence on the love of their girlfriends back home, which is a painful issue for many of the soldiers in Tim’s platoon. Instead, Henry shows them how to take back the power over their own luck and fate.

Henry’s life philosophy revolves around his instinct to be a good person. In adolescence, he was drawn to ministering because he connected with the mission of being kind to other people. He feels that he wouldn’t be intellectually capable enough to be a minister due to the big, cerebral questions that often must be tackled by church leaders, but he does seem to find his place with a group of Vietnamese monks. Despite not speaking their language, Henry instinctually connects with the monks over their shared purpose of doing good. In fact, it might be the inability to connect verbally that allows Henry to feel that sense of belonging. Without speech, the obstacle of heady philosophy has been removed from the equation. The monks are equally drawn to Henry and, although they treat everyone well, seem to look on him as a true companion more than they do the other soldiers.

Henry may also see his kind, brotherly treatment of the monks, which includes spending time with them and giving them food, as a sort of atonement for the atrocities being committed by his fellow soldiers in Vietnam. His statement at the end of “Church,” where he tells Kiowa that all they can do is treat people decently, seems to refer not just to the monks but to all Vietnamese civilians. For an individual man who has been drafted into a war he has no control over, he can never compensate for the violence his country has committed in Vietnam. All he can do is treat the people with kindness when possible.