Continuing the Deployment

This morning at 0416, I kissed my husband good-bye. That last kiss was so soft and warm and full of love. It has to last for the next four months. As soon as he turned to walk toward the bus that would take him to the airport, I felt that ripped apart empty feeling and started sobbing. I'm not talking a few tears. I'm talking gut-wrenching sobbing. The kind that hurts all the way down to the bone.

The first time my super wonderful husband deployed (March 2003), he was gone for four months. The second deployment (February 2004) was to be for a year. It was a long and lonely eight months before he was able to come home on R&R. We shared 16 amazing days together. But for a few hours here and there, I remained by his side. That man is my anchor. Alas, all good things must come to an end and he had to depart again for Iraq. If everything goes according to plan (which somehow never seems to happen when operating within the military time-table) I shall be able to embrace my precious man again sometime in the spring of 2005.

These deployments are such a test of inner-strength and character. Military spouses are forced to cope with a plethora of challenges. Long-term separation is just one of them.

Shortly after 1st Infantry Division left Germany for Iraq, I sat down at the computer and wrote about the emotions swelling within me reflected by the tension building within my community. Personally, I thought the result was pretty good. I shared it with some other wives and they agreed with the sentiments. Eventually, the good folks in Golden, Colorado (my home away from home) requested an insider's view-point about the going-ons in Irag and the impact on the families of the soldiers. I sent in what I had written. I was please to see my words appeared in the Heart of Golden Newsletter. The response I received was overwhelming.

I wanted to post it here. Hopefully, folks outside of Golden, Colorado will read it and perhaps a few eyes will be opened about what it means to love a soldier.


"DEPLOYMENT AND THE ONES LEFT BEHIND"

Baghdad. Tikrit. Fallujah. What do these words mean? As an Army wife, these words are much more than cities in Iraq. These words mean a long-term separation from my husband. These words mean rearing two children alone. These words mean yet another anniversary at a table for one. These words mean a Father’s Day without a father. These words mean a community reduced by more than a third practically overnight.

These words also mean fear. The fear of “What if?” What if today is the day I answer my doorbell and discover an Army Chaplain and a Commander waiting to tell me my husband will not be coming home? What if the news isn’t that my husband was killed, but rather severely injured? What if today my best friend opens her door to greet a Chaplain and Commander? These are thoughts that although aren’t consciously entertained, they lurk in the dark recesses of the minds of military spouses.

The differences between military and civilian families are many. Recently, one of those differences was noticed by my 14 year old daughter. The television show Survivor is a favorite in our household. On a recent episode, the players became emotionally overwhelmed at the possibility that after 28/29 days they might win the opportunity to spend some time with a loved one. My daughter looked at me and said, “Come on. Thirty days away from their family? That’s just a training exercise.” She was absolutely correct. These players were beside themselves with tears and sobs after a mere four weeks. Try four months.

Four months. That’s how long my husband was in Iraq last year. He returned just long enough to pack up our household and move to another post and job assignment. Once there, he received word that he would deploy with the new unit in seven months. That seven months was not seven months of going to work at 8 o’clock and coming home at 6 o’clock. That seven months was a week in the field here, a month in the field there, a week away here and a month gone there. The time in garrison (at home) still was not a regular work day schedule. Off to work by 0600 (6 a.m.) for PT (physical training), maybe some time off for a lunch break, back to work, maybe some time off for a dinner break or call home to have dinner brought to work, and maybe, just maybe be home by 2100 (9 p.m.). All of this hard work and dedication was rewarded with two weeks of leave time in December to enjoy before deploying for a year.

In two years time, my husband has been deployed twice. The reality of it is that I am not the only wife who has had to say good-bye this often. There are hundreds if not thousands of wives who have been separated from their husbands more than they’ve been with their husbands. Just the other day, I spoke to an Army wife of three years. Her husband has been deployed and/or in the field for 30 months of their marriage. Being married to the military means reaching deep down inside yourself and gathering up all your inner strength and telling yourself that everything will be okay. A military spouse is the definition of independence. A military spouse is resourceful. To borrow military phraseology, a military spouse must improvise, adapt and overcome. As a group, we get through each deployment a bit stronger, a bit braver and a bit more resilient. And when the news of yet another training exercise and/or deployment comes, we remind ourselves that we love our soldiers and everything that they do and everything we do is worth it. Freedom isn’t free. It comes at a greater cost than most people can ever imagine.
---06 May 2004-----