The Difference Between Wanting and Ready

It's coming really close now, and we're wrapping up the last-minute things that occur before a long "away".  He has things he does around the house to make sure we're OK, and we have certain discussions that we always have before he goes.  It's not easy, but this is where "we've done this before" really helps.

I am not freaking out.

Ok, I am, but only inside and only a little bit.

One thing My G said last night really stuck with me, though, and it was something that my younger self needed to hear when we first got married, if I'd only known to ask. It's something that I think all "new" Army wives need to hear.

What he said: "Just because I am ready to go, doesn't mean I want to."

Sweet new Army wife, whether you're 20 or 40, these words are for you.
There is a huge difference between your Soldier (or Airman, or Seaman, or Marine) being ready to go on deployment, to school, to TDY, on an unaccompanied tour of any type - and wanting to leave you.

They are ready because they have trained, they have prepared, they are set to do what the country has asked of them or to fulfill the plan they've made for their career.

They are ready because they've done what they need to do in order to leave. They have orders in hand or their bags are packed or they've checked the handy checkboxes that their units have provided.

This does not mean they want to leave you.

Many servicemembers cry just as hard as their kids or their spouses when it is time to leave, but there are just as many who remain stoic. My G was one of the latter and he still is. This is his job, this is his career, and this is what he does. But it doesn't mean he wants to leave us.

Because we've been down this road so many times, we are able to joke a bit and make comments about "Good thing I won't be here" or "Whew, whole bed to myself!"  But that doesn't mean that we are eager for this separation. It doesn't mean that, if plans changed and he could turn right around and come back to us early, we wouldn't rejoice.

All it means is that he's ready.

In the grand scheme of things, "ready" is a good thing. I want him to have all the things he'll need while he's gone. I want for me to be ready, too, and have some plans and ideas for how to get through this time. "Ready" means that I have a Power of Attorney. "Ready" means that he has the training and the gear he needs to get the job done, whatever the job may be. "Ready" means that our girls know what is coming and we've spent some special time with them while we can. "Ready," in our case, means that we've had talks about budgets and house stuff and he's shown me how to program the sprinklers.

But I always remember that he'd really rather be here.

The Flag

There are days when my relationship with the US flag is a conflicted one.  By turns, I both love and hate this emblem of our country.  There is such a pull to it, holding us tight, demanding that we give and give and give, and so rarely giving back.  Then there are the days when I am so proud to be a citizen of this country, that the pure and lonesome beauty of its stars and stripes nearly brings me to weeping.

It is a powerful thing, that flag.  Over 20 years ago, he raised his right hand and swore to uphold it, to fight for it, and to die by it if necessary.  Over 20 years ago, I made a vow to him, which in turn binds me to that selfsame flag.  Our children have made sacrifices because of his original oath, and have grown up stronger for it.  And yet…

Our lives are very different from what I had grown up imagining our lives to be, and certainly different from that of most Americans.  

Most Americans, when they hear the National Anthem, or they recite the Pledge, do so unfettered, unbound by its power.  There are some, not all, who realize and appreciate fully the freedoms they enjoy because our country is a unique one.  They are proud, loyal, and steadfast.  Some, I am sad to say, are blithely uncaring, or unaware, or both. 

Most Americans are not asked to fully support that flag.

And most Americans would surely not die for that flag.

Most Americans do not move because their country needs it.  They do not go without their families for months, years at a time because their country demands it.  They do not serve at the needs of the Army, nor at the needs of any part of this great country.  They do not bathe the flag in blood, sweat or tears.

Most Americans do not occasionally hate the demands that their flag puts on them, because most Americans have not had much demanded of them.

There is much to say that is good and positive and right about this country.  All of those reasons, plus family tradition, are the inspiration for my husband’s original and continued oath.  Those are the predominant reasons he has stayed with this service, and we have all given so much.  We are free to do so much that in other countries is forbidden, or unavailable, or unheard-of.  We are freer than free, in so many of the ways that count.  Speech, Religion, Press, Self-protection.  Some days it feels as though those freedoms are under attack by the very forces that are supposed to uphold them, yet still they endure.

Most Americans pay absolutely nothing for this tremendous privilege, short of grumbling at the tax office.  Freedoms are, by their nature, not free.  Their cost is far deeper than a monetary one.  Their cost cannot be purchased except through the unfailing loyalty of those who have promised their lives to it.

Some days, that cost seems far too high.  Some days, that cost makes me weep for the lost days and months and years that we have sacrificed.  Some days, I could hate that flag. 

Most Americans do not understand.  They do not see the conflict that pulls at our military families, where fealty to “home” and “country” must constantly be an either-or, all-or-nothing choice.  Many Americans blithely say, “Well, at least it isn’t…” or “It could be worse,” not realizing that each change and each sacrifice must be weighed on an individual occurrence.  Gone is gone, and we miss the time we might have spent together.  Let us grieve a moment, let us feel comforted and not forgotten while we are half of the family we once were.

I am proud of the choices that we have made, to follow and support and remain loyal to this great country and that beautiful, terrible flag.  Most days, I would not change a thing except to be more appreciative of the freedoms it represents.  But there are times, when the anthem plays and the flag is flown, that my heart aches inside at the price we have paid.

There are days, I will admit, when there is no comfort there.

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Getting Out

Since My G has 21 years in the Army, of course we've talked a lot about retirement.  We have our plans, which of course the Army has changed for us a half dozen times at least.  We are taking steps to make Plans A, B, and C work, as well.

We get asked a lot, "So, when do you retire?"

Well, it's complicated.  Every day, it seems, I hear a new story about someone getting out of the Army. And I hear stories of "what happens next".

Folks, it isn't good news.

One friend and her Soldier husband were forced to med board out from the Army after he sustained injuries. They had no backup plan, and had planned to stay in until he reached his 20. Now they are both trying to find work, find a home they can afford, and they feel stuck. From what I'm reading, there's a bit of panicky feeling, too.

One of My G's battle buddies was all set to retire, having hit his RCP (Retention Control Point). RCP essentially is the "get promoted or get out" point that the Army sets, and he hadn't reached the next promotion point when the Army thought he should have. Thankfully, he was able to take retirement. During the retirement health assessment, they did a body scan and found that he has a form of cancer that is becoming more and more common among Soldiers who have deployed. So instead of going through simple retirement, he underwent chemo, and now radiation, and later a full medical retirement.  He's still able to retire, but the Army has exacted a pretty high price from him and his wife, both physically and emotionally.

I know of a Soldier who was dealt some terrible back injuries, healed, fought the Army for proper treatment and the correct surgery, and now is getting med-boarded out of the Army because he can't properly run and has other health issues. My friend, his wife, has put in for any and every job that she is qualified for, all across the United States, because she knows they may have to rely on her income for a period of time after this process is over. So far, nothing. This is despite many of the applications coming back, saying she is qualified.

My own battle buddy says that her husband didn't make the promotion list this time around, and they are gearing up for major changes with the Army and in their lives. They were once caught without a backup plan, many years ago, and they will not do so again. Still, there is a tinge of worry and fear -- the world is an uncertain place for a veteran, even one with 20 years under his belt.

Getting out is scary, right now. We hear every day that the economy is getting better, that jobs are easier to find, that people are getting back to work, that we can afford to keep a roof over our heads.  We hear that the Dow is so high, it must be great! We hear that there are jobs that are open, and available.

(We even, sometimes, hear about companies that hire veterans specifically to help them once their Army time is done. I pray, when it is our time to get out, that we will all have found a safety net and a job.)

Not one of these Soldiers, nor their families, are asking for handouts. They want to work, and they have all pushed through incredible odds already. But I think it's time we talk about preparing our Soldiers better for "getting out". We need to talk about fixing the programs that help them transition from Soldier life to civilian life. I hear that this program works really well for the Soldiers who put in 4 or 8 years of their lives and then want to go back to school or work outside the Army. But these programs are failing the Soldiers who have given the most time and lifeblood

I think it's time we talk about the Soldiers who have put in the most time, and the deepest commitment. I think it's time we figure out a better way to serve them. Because these Soldiers are often the ones who know the most about their jobs and their installations, they are also often held back from properly taking part in transition programs because their loss will be felt so deeply. But at the same time, these are the very Soldiers who need the programs the most, and the units owe it to them to commit to making sure their Soldier-to-civilian transformation is the smoothest it can be.

So, while it's not time for us to be getting out, it is definitely our time to plan for it. And make a Plan B. And C. Or more.

The Stripes Tell a Story

When I mention "stripes" and the Army, most people would assume I mean rank.  Today I saw something that told a different story, and stopped me in my tracks.

My G got promoted (which in itself is a long story when a soldier has 21 years in, but I digress).  As part of the promotion, he is headed to school and needed to update his Dress Blues to the newer ASU-style dress uniform.  The lady at Clothing/Sales/Alterations was extraordinarily helpful, especially since My G wasn't able to convert his custom-tailored Blues into the new style.

She brought out the jacket below.

Photo not to be used without permission. 

The combat stripes on the left indicate 6 months' each, overseas duty.  Iraq, Afghanistan, etc.  The service stripes on the right indicate three years' each, time in service.

This particular soldier had been in the Army for only 9 years.  He had been deployed for 3 years of that time, at least.  It's possible he had more months than this, but below the next 6 months' stripe.

A full one-third of this soldier's time was spent in combat.

I think there comes a time when we are asking too much of our servicemen and -women. We are blessed to have an all-volunteer service, and yes, they generally "know what they're getting into".  But at what cost?  Are we supporting them enough?  Are we keeping the promise to them?

I wonder what this Soldier's story is, if he's still in the service or if he got medically retired or simply got out.  One third of  his Army life was spent fighting for us, and all I can hope is that someone, somewhere, shows him our gratitude.

What do you think?  Comments are always welcome.

The Real Cost of War

Today, I heard about another one.  A family, which has lost their Soldier.  A Soldier, back from deployment and needing services.  A unit, not holding him accountable nor recognizing the true risk.

I remember when I first started college, a friend of mine had a brother-in-law who was a Vietnam vet.  He wore braces on ankles that had been irreversibly injured, and slept on average two hours a night, plagued by nightmares.  He taught me about PTSD, which wasn't something most people had ever heard of at that time.  He was picking himself up and creating a good life for himself-- but it took him 20 years after he returned home from war, to start to be "okay".

Is that what we want for our Soldiers today?  Have we learned nothing at all?  Do we want 20 years to pass before they can regain their lives?

A church in a New Jersey town recently memorialized the 6,358 American servicemembers killed in Iraq and Afghanistan by planting a small American flag for each of them.  The visual is a stunning reminder of our loss as a nation, and of the true cost of war.

I think the loss is far, far greater than 6,358.  I don't think there are enough flags to show the true cost.  Every week, I hear about another marriage that hasn't made it.  Suicide rates skyrocketed until the Army realized something had to be done and implemented new programs to forcefully address the issue.  Child abuse?  Spouse abuse?  How many partially healed bruises and stolen childhoods are as a result of Soldiers coming home to units that are incapable, ill-equipped, or unwilling to make sure they get the services they need?

Then there is the horrifying story of a Staff Sergeant who is charged in the murders of 16 Afghani citizens.  How much of what happened is personal and how much of it is a systemic breaking-down, we won't know for a long time.  But I pray it's a wake up call.

They say war is hell.  But the aftermath of war, when the Soldiers come home broken in every way they can be broken, can be just as devastating.  I hope it doesn't take this generation's military 20 years to find healing.

Field Of Flags Memorial -- More than 6, 358 flags would be necessary to show the true cost of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

The Five Stages-- Bargaining

This is the fourth in a series of blogs based on Kubler-Ross’s Five Stages of Grief. These, however, are the Five Stages of a Deployment, or extended TDY, or any time our Soldier is “away”.

The time frame for these may vary depending on the spouse and on the individual couple. For example, when we first got married and I had moved halfway across the country, our first CQ involved all five stages because it happened the first day in our new home. Now, I don’t really do many of these until about the third week, or they pass so quickly it’s a mere bad mood.

Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance

I am purposefully not doing the stages in the usual order, because even Kubler-Ross says these stages aren’t necessarily complete or chronological. Each person is unique.

Bargaining—

I think most military spouses bargain with God during any “away”--  We pretend to ourselves that if we keep the yard nice, keep the kids “okay”, keep busy and involved enough, then our Soldier will come home safe.  He (or she) will come home whole.

It’s a farcical bargain, of course.  Far too many Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen and Marines never make it home at all.  Even the simplest training exercise can sometimes result in tragedy.  Deployments, during which it feels like our military member has a great big target on their back, are more fraught with danger and risk.   Whether they come home whole and hearty is not something we have control over.

Which, of course, is the scariest part of any “away”.  We have no control, ultimately.  It comes down to faith in their training, in their awareness of the risk, and their desire to come back to us.

When faith wavers, and we aren’t sure who to turn to, we begin to bargain with ourselves.  We’ll take that class, we’ll make the home improvement, we’ll keep our kids busy just like if our Soldier were home.  Then, of course, he’ll come back to us.  He’ll be proud of us, and he’ll know that we, too, have made sacrifices for our country.

I can’t speak for all military spouses, of course.  I can only speak for myself, really.   When I am mowing, though, or taking care of the cars, or really doing anything around the house that would normally be in “his lane”, the biggest frustration for me comes when I can’t do it as well or as nicely as he does.  I want to do it well, so he has something nice to come home to, and he doesn’t get saddled with fixing whatever it is that I’ve done.

I will admit to another kind of bargaining, as well.  I’m a touch superstitious.  When I used to be on call with my former employer, I wouldn’t say that the phone had been quiet—until my duty period was over.  I don’t talk about a check I’m anticipating until I receive it.  I don’t watch the news while my Soldier is gone, and I really don’t like talking about what he might be doing or experiencing unless there is something that can be done to help him. 

I realize, even as I’m trying to do things “just right” and trying to ignore the news, that my husband’s time is not up to me or up to what I do or don’t do.  I believe in a God who has an ordained plan. I also know that the surest way to have my Soldier happy to be home and proud of me, is to do my part to keep our marriage as strong as possible.  That focus on our marriage will help, I know, when he comes home.  Whether he comes home strong and whole, or hurting in some way, the marriage will need to be strong to withstand the reintegration period that is such an adjustment for all military Families.

That won’t stop me from making one more small bargain.  I won’t post this blog until he’s home this time.