I was cleaning my saved e-mails and found this one from my wife while I was in Iraq, and it's just as true now as it was then...
>THIS IS 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."
>
>Hers 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 16 years old getting ready
>for prom and having to up-root 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
>times 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
>thephone call...
>
>She relives the moments before she kissed him goodbye. 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 ripe old age of 22, 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 thelate 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
