| "What it means to love a Soldier".
She stands in line at the post office waiting to send a
package to her husband, a U.S. Army Soldier serving in Iraq.
Envelopes, pens, paper, stamps, sunscreen, eye-drops, gum, batteries,
powdered Gatorade, baby wipes and Twizzlers. He said he needed the
sunscreen and baby wipes. She threw in the Twizzlers. There's a
common bond at the post office in this military town. People aren't
just sending letters and packages; they are sending smiles, hope, love
and just a touch of home. People look around at the others, sharing
their concern, fear and pride. They take comfort knowing they are not
alone.
Passing through the gate leaving the Army post, she enters another
world. A world filled with pawnshops, surplus stores, barbershops,
fast food galore and, of course, "Loans, Loans, Loans." This is a life
that includes grocery shopping at a place called the Commissary. A
life that has her venturing to the Post Exchange, referred to as the
PX, instead of heading to Wal-Mart.
This is where you come to learn, appreciate and respect the
ceremonious traditions of Reveille and Retreat, and of course, the
National Anthem from a completely different perspective. At 6 a.m., or
as the Soldiers call it, 0600 hours, Reveille can be heard across
post. The bugle call officially begins the military workday. At 1700
hours Retreat sounds signaling the day's end. Soldiers render salutes,
chatter fades and all eyes are drawn to the nearest flag. At 2300
hours, the bugle sounds Taps, denoting not only the "final hour" of the
day, but also honoring those we have lost.
When the National Anthem plays in a military town, a special aura
fills the air. Men, women, and even children stop to pay their
respects. Civilians place their hands over their hearts. Soldiers
salute. In this world, the Anthem isn't just a prequel to the echo of
"Play Ball." Since she married her Soldier and experienced the Star
Spangled Banner from this perspective, she's noticed how people in
civilian towns react to the National Anthem. She notices the people
who continue to talk, the hats that stay on, the beer that doesn't get
put down, and even the jeers at the person singing the Anthem. The
meaning seems to be lost to a majority of people. But if she looks
closely, she can see who has been blessed enough to learn this lesson.
Some are grandparents, some are parents, and some are young children.
At first glance, children growing up in this world of artillery,
tanks and uniforms are the same as any other kids from any other town.
They do the things that kids do. They play sports, go to school, and
play with their friends. The difference is that their group of friends
may change once a year, or more, due to a change of duty station. They
don't have any say in this. They could be two years old and not
remember a thing about it, or they may be sixteen years old getting
ready for prom and having to uproot and move again. They're known as
"military brats," a harsh misnomer for those who learn a lifestyle of
sacrifice at such a young age. Yet, it makes them strong.
The little boys become the men of the house and the little girls
become the ladies. They adapt to these different situations. They
live with the reality that one, or even both, parents may not be around
to celebrate birthdays and holidays. They know there will be time when
they will look into the stands during Little League games and see only
an empty space in the bleachers. At the same time, these kids have a
sense of overwhelming pride. They brag about their daddies and their
mommies being the best of the best. They know their Mom's been through
deployments, changes of duty stations, and the ever-changing schedules
Army life brings. While Dad is away, she takes care of the house, the
bills, the cars, the dogs, and the baby.
To cope with it all, she learns military families communicate via
the Internet so he doesn't miss out on what's happening back home. But
he does miss out. He won't be there for the baby's first steps, and he
may have to hear his son or daughter's first words through a time delay
across a static-filled telephone line. She remembers what it was like
before he left, when everything seemed "normal". Normal except for the
pressed uniform, the nightly ritual of shining boots, the thunder-like
sound of the Apache helicopters flying overhead, and the artillery
shells heard off in the distance. OK, relatively normal when they
occasionally went to the park, spent holidays together and even enjoyed
four-day weekends when he could get a pass.
But, the real challenge began with the phone call. She relives the
moments before she kissed him good-bye. A phone ringing at 0400 hours
is enough to make her heart end up in her throat. They've been
expecting the call, but they weren't sure when it would come. She
waits to hear the words, "Don't worry, it's just a practice run". But
instead she hears, "Here we go". So, off he goes to pack, though most
of the packing is finished because as a Soldier, he is "always ready to
roll". She gets the baby, but leaves his pajamas on because it is just
as well that he sleeps. She takes the dogs out, she gets dressed, all
the while trying to catch glimpses of her husband. She wants to
cherish his presence because she doesn't know when she'll see him
again. She knows that in other homes nearby, other families are
enacting exactly the same scene. Within 15 minutes, the family is in
the car heading to the "rally point".
As they pull up, they see Soldiers everywhere, hugging their loved
ones. While people love to see tearful, joyous homecomings, fearful,
anxious, farewells are another story. Too soon, with his gear over his
shoulder, he walks away. She is left behind, straining to keep an eye
on her Soldier. As the camouflage starts to blend, only his walk
distinguishes him from the others. She takes one last look and takes a
deep breath. She reminds herself she must stay strong. No tears. Or,
as few tears as possible. Just words of encouragement to the children,
to her friends and to herself. Then she turns, walks back to the car,
and makes her way home to a house that is now eerily quiet.
She mentally prepares for the days, weeks, even months ahead. She
needs to focus on taking care of her love while he is overseas. Her
main priorities will be the care packages, phone calls, e-mails, and
letters sprayed with perfume. And, she can't forget to turn the stamp
upside down to say, "I love you". Taking care of her family, her
friends, even strangers - this is her mission as an Army wife to do
these things without a second thought.
At the age of 30, she knows the younger wives will turn to her for
advice. "How do you balance a checkbook? How do you change a tire?
When are they coming home?" Only when she knows everyone else is OK,
the bills are paid, the cars maintained, the lawn cut, the kids asleep,
the pets calmed down, and the lights are off, does she take time for
her self.
Alone at night, she runs the next day's events over in her mind to
make sure it will all get finished. She reviews her checklist of
things to do, things to buy for his care package. Once again, she
checks the calendar to count down the days. Before turning in, she
checks to make sure the ringer is on for the late night phone call that
might come in from overseas. Before she falls asleep, a few tears hit
the pillow. But even as the tears escape, strength enters her mind,
body, spirit and soul. She remembers why she is here. She remembers
the pride and the love that brought her here in the first place, and a
sense of peace comes over her, replacing, if only for a second, the
loneliness, the fear and the lingering heartache she feels while her
soul mate is away.
This is what it means to love a Soldier. She wouldn't have it any other way. |