I did a magazine interview yesterday about what it’s like to be the wife of a deployed soldier.
“What’s the thing you miss you the most while your husband is gone?” The interviewer asked.
“Being told that I’m pretty,” I said.
What??!
“Don’t print that,” I added quickly. “I meant to say, I miss having someone tell me my hair looks nice.”
Crap!
As embarrassing as it is to admit, it’s true. When your husband is gone for a year, it’s the little, intimate, romantic things that you miss the most. Things you never really noticed until they were gone. I’m not talking about sex. You will notice that the sex is missing. But you won’t wake up three months into the deployment thinking ‘no one has said they like my outfit in a really long time.’ You will just feel less sexy, less attractive, less confident, and you will wonder why. Maybe you get your haircut differently. But you come home to an empty house and no one is there to notice, so the thrill of ‘the new, fresh-from-the-salon you’ is gone. Maybe you buy a new dress, but there is no one to take you out to dinner in it.
In those tiny, everyday moments, I feel the loneliest. At the office, I have work to keep me occupied. I can take girlfriends to plays or gallery openings and have more fun than if I had dragged Paul along. Even on holidays, extended family keeps me busy and we usually get a special phone call from overseas. But on random Tuesday nights when I am watching the Dancing With The Stars results show and there is no one there to rub my feet or listen to me complain that Giles’ scores should have been higher… those are the moments when I hate the deployment.
Supporting our troops is critical. But supporting the families of deployed military personnel is important, too, and it’s easy. You don’t have to babysit their kids or mow their lawns for them. (Although, I don’t know many military spouses who would turn down those offers of help!) Instead, just treat them with kindness. Remember that they are doing it all alone right now, and that gentle support and love that we get from our spouses is missing from their lives.
Give hugs. Never under-estimate the power of physical touch. When Paul is deployed and I’m sleeping alone every night, it’s hard to get used to not having that contact. No one hugs you or kisses you or holds your hand. I know I can’t ask my girlfriends to make up for the kissing or hand-holding, but a heartfelt hug and a ‘how you doing?’ can mean the world to me on a stressful day.
Complement me. Everyone likes to know their outfit is pretty or their hair looks good. Usually, we count on our spouses for that validation – but sometimes it can mean even more coming from girlfriends (my husband has no idea whether my shoes are cute or not!) Or better yet, when is the last time you sincerely complemented a neighbor or co-worker? It doesn’t have to be physical. How about throwing a little praise my way because my yard looks great, or because I’m holding on to my poise even though you know it must be hard being without my soldier.
Include me. Just because my other half is missing, doesn’t mean I don’t want to hang out with you and your significant other. People are so afraid of drawing attention to my married-but-single status and making me uncomfortable as the ‘third wheel,’ they don’t invite me to do anything at all. Maybe a table for 3 would be awkward at our favorite restaurant, but I would still love to come to your house for a BBQ. Please, make the call.
Talk about my soldier. He’s in a foreign country, but he still exists. I assure you; not mentioning him does NOT make me miss him any less. Even if we’re not talking about him, I’m still thinking about him; wondering if he’s safe; obsessively checking my cell phone for his call. It would make me feel good to know that you’re thinking about him, too. Just keep it brief and upbeat.
Say ‘Thank You.’ It really doesn’t take any more than that. Just two words. Remind me that you know that I am serving our country, too; that I am also making sacrifices. And that you appreciate it. It may not make me feel pretty, but it will always make the burden of deployment a little easier to bear.
On August 7, 2007, the Army released a message informing Soldiers about the new Post Deployment/Mobilization Respite Absence, or PDMRA. PDMRA is a new category of leave similar to administrative leave in the civilian sector. It is a DOD program intended to compensate Soldiers with days of non-chargeable leave when required to mobilize or deploy with a frequency beyond established rotation policy goals. The program only applies to deployments and mobilizations underway on, or commencing after, 19 Jan 07. I want to take a few minutes and try to explain this very confusing policy.
First and foremost, Soldiers should recognize that there are no tax benefits like combat zone exclusions for taking this leave. This program does not replace or circumvent traditional leave accrual. Soldiers will earn both their standard 2.5 days per month as well as PDMRA, if qualified. I’ll break this up into Active and Reserve (National Guard) forces.
After 12 months deployment, eligible Soldiers earn ONE day of administrative absence. Those Soldiers with 18 months deployed begin to earn TWO days and those with 24 months will earn FOUR days. The deployments must occur within a 36 month period. Here’s how it works:
If you deployed for a 15 month tour AFTER the date above, you earn one day of PDMRA PER MONTH after the 12th month. Months 13, 14, and 15 each get one day for a total of three. If you deploy for 21 months, you earn two days of PDMRA PER MONTH after your 18th for a total of six days. Each month past 24 months earns four days per month. Now, this must occur within a 36 month window. If you deployed for 15 months and then didn’t deploy again for three years, your count begins back at zero for PDMRA. The only difference for the Reserve forces is that they have more time to accrue deployments. For those Soldiers, it is a 72 month window.
The deployments that are creditable under this program are to Afghanistan, Iraq or certain theater units and other areas as determined by the Secretary of the Army. For Reserve component Soldiers, creditable mobilizations are defined as mobilizations under Title 10 only and only include INVOLUNTARY mobilizations unless the duty is in conjunction with “deployment to Iraq or Afghanistan.” It gets a bit confusing for Reserve components, but here is the actual policy:
…for the Reserve component Soldiers, creditable mobilizations are defined as mobilizations under Title 10, United States Code, sections 12301a, 12302, or 12304. These are involuntary mobilizations. Voluntary mobilizations under 12301(d) /CO-ADOS, Retiree Recall) do not qualify for PDMRA, unless the 12301(d) mobilization/duty is in conjunction with ―deployment to Iraq or Afghanistan.‖ To qualify for PDMRA under a 12301(d) period of duty the Soldier must have documentation showing their Iraq/Afghanistan duty under Combat Zone Tax Exclusion (CZTE) on their LES showing the payment of Hostile Fire/Imminent Danger pay to verify the period of Boots on Ground (BOG) in Iraq or Afghanistan. More than 50% of the entire 12301(d) mobilization ―time‖ must occur BOG in Iraq or Afghanistan for a 12301(d) to qualify for any PDMRA. For example, one month of CZTE can be authorized/earned for one day in theater. Technically, a 12301(d) Soldier traveling to Iraq or Afghanistan one day per month for 6 months would earn 6 months CZTE and have an LES that indicates 6 months CZTE. However, that does not qualify the 12301(d) Soldier for any PDMRA since 50% of the mobilization ―time‖ was not preformed in theater.
For active component Soldiers, creditable deployment time commences on January 19, 2004, or the date that is 36 months prior to the Soldier‘s initial deployment, whichever date is most recent, and includes the day of the Soldier‘s arrival in theater through the date of departure from theater. For example: If the Soldier deployed October 10, 2007, creditable deployment time for the Soldier would include previous deployments back 36 months to October 10, 2004. A deployment on December 21, 2013, looks back 36 months for previous creditable deployment… December 21, 2010 in order to calculate the number of days of PDMRA earned. Make sense? It does to me, but if you’re CORNfused, that’s what the comments section is for. Ask away! The following image should explain it a little better. The red blocks account for deployment time. For qualified deployments, a number appears indicating how many days of PDMRA you have earned for that deployment.
PDMRA Example
Now for the REALLY confusing part – the Reserves and National Guard. For Reserve component Soldiers, creditable mobilization time commences on October 7, 2001, or the date that is 72 months prior to the Soldier‘s mobilization, whichever date is most recent, and includes the day the Soldier is initially mobilized through the date the mobilization is terminated; includes the effective date of the Soldier‘s mobilization orders through the date of the expiration of the mobilization order, to include periods of R&R and temporary duty (TDY) outside Iraq and Afghanistan for TDY periods of 30 days or less. For example: A deployment on December 21, 2013, looks back 72 months for previous creditable deployment(s)…December 21, 2007 in order to calculate the number of days of PDMRA earned. PDMRA accrual for RC Soldiers includes all qualifying mobilizations, not just to Iraq or Afghanistan. Only mobilizations under 12301(a), 12302, or 12304 qualify to accrue PDMRA. A 12301(d) period of duty also qualifies when it is documented that the 12301(d) period was in conjunction with a deployment in support of Contingency Operations in Iraq or Afghanistan; deployment time for this purpose includes the day of the Soldier‘s arrival on Title 10 at MOB station through his REFRAD date. PDMRA days do not continue to accrue while Soldier is on transition leave and/or extension of mobilization orders for the purpose of PDMRA usage. Here’s the reserve graphic explanation:
I think these images make a bit more sense than trying to explain it all. I could have saved a lot of energy just posting these at the beginning.
Now the question on probably every Soldiers’ mind is “how do I use it?” PDMRA can be used during any R&R leave period or in lieu of using chargeable annual leave at home station. However, you can’t add the PDMRA to R&R time. If you have 20 days of leave saved up and your R&R is only 14, you can’t extend that time period to use up your leave. You only get to use the 14 days. Soldiers may use PDMRA leave within 12 months of returning from deployment or during PCS travel. If you don’t use them within 12 months of returning from deployment, too bad, so sad. Leaders must make every effort to give their troops this time off within that timeframe. We owe it to them!
Soldiers who return from deployment due to an injury or are deemed to be “not fit for duty” will have one year to use their PDMRA from the day that they are determined to be “fit for duty.” This is good news for those Soldiers recovering from injuries sustained as a result of combat or their deployment, but stuck somewhere like Walter Reed for extended periods of time. Soldiers who are getting out of the Army can combine their ETS (terminal) leave with PDMRA.
PDMRA days do not continue to accrue for those Soldiers on transition leave and/or extension of mobilization orders for the purpose of PDMRA usage. It also doesn’t have a cash value like normal leave does. If it’s not used, it goes the way of GM dealerships and just disappears without a trace and no “cash out” option. For those Soldiers in the Reserve component with federal, state or local government civilian employment, you cannot by law receive civilian pay while using this leave. Since you are considered on active duty while taking this leave. However, there is a provision in the law that allows you to elect to receive Assignment Incentive Pay in lieu of PDMRA. For this purpose, the AIP would be valued at a rate of $200 for each day of administrative absence that otherwise would have been authorized/earned under the PDMRA program, but can’t exceed $3,000 per month. To request this, simply use the 4187 process (see your 1SG).
I hope this cleared up some of the confusion or lack of knowledge about this important way our nation shows its appreciation for what we’re doing. Our media likes to highlight all the down sides of these deployments while completely ignoring worthy programs like this, additional pay, and other benefits that Soldiers receive during and after deployments. We take care of our own and this is just another example of that.
If you have any further questions about the program, don’t hesitate to ask in the comments section so that others can learn along with you. Also, please see your PAC or 1SG. However, since I’ve been contacted by a few First Sergeants myself, they may not have the answer. In those cases, provide them with this link to educate them. They’ll thank you for it!
For services other than the Army, this program SHOULD work the exact same way. It’s a DOD program, not an Army one. We are just better at getting the word out there!
Oh and I almost forgot, you can access a special calculator to help you figure out how much leave you may be due by clicking HERE.
I met with a life coach today. Even though (or especially because) I am a certified life coach, I think it’s a good idea to routinely check in with someone outside your own head about how you’re doing. Someone to ask you about your goals and dreams, and hold you accountable for them. So I did. And that hour of help looking at the big picture of my life was more valuable that the countless hours of soul-searching I’ve been bogged down in over the past week.
Draw a circle. Now draw lines through the circle, dividing it into six equal sections – like a pizza. Label each of the sections with these titles: Professional, Financial, Wellness, Spiritual, Emotional and Relationships. Take a few minutes to think about how happy you are in each of these areas of your life. Now assign each slice a number: 1 is ‘really unhappy,’ 10 is ‘everything’s perfect
Now, color in each pizza slice as indicated by the number you picked. For example, I’ll fill in the spiritual slice 9/10 of the way from the center. Try to consider the shaded area as a second circle inside the original one. If it were a wheel, could it roll? Mine would be a pretty bumpy ride.
Looking at the drawing, I realized that although my emotional and spiritual life, my health & wellness and my relationships are all happy and fulfilling, my professional and financial life leave much to be desired. A common dilemma for a military wife. Especially one coming out of a deployment.
When Paul deployed, I quit my job as a TV anchor in order to run our farm while he was gone. Although I started Heroes At Home during the year he was gone, my life was very much about supporting him and holding down the homefront in his absence. I went from a steady paycheck to being the much less significant income in our two-income family. We didn’t miss the money because his salary jumped with the addition of separation and hazardous duty pay. We could afford for me to focus on my spiritual and emotional well-being, my relationships, my health. And, of course, all the home maintenance, laundry, dog care, finances, cooking, cleaning, letter-writing, package-mailing, power-of-attorney wielding, vehicle upkeep, holiday celebration… and all the other trappings of a two-person life that fell squarely on my shoulders. It was a blessing to have that flexibility during a very difficult year. I am very proud of being a military wife – doing my part to serve our country by lending Uncle Sam my husband and hanging in there while he’s gone.
Here’s the problem. He’s home now. And I want my life back. I spent a lot of time with my girlfriends during the deployment. I ate well, lifted weights attended pilates regularly. I managed my stress and anxiety by finding activities that fulfilled me and relying on my faith to get me through. I have 8s and 9s in all those pizza slices of my life.
But I went from a pre-deployment 9 in the professional slice (10 seems a little pompous… but suffice it to say I had nothing to complain about on the career front) to a post-deployment 4. I love my work with military families – it is rewarding and meaningful, but I constantly wish I could reach more people. I haven’t been able to focus on growing the business over the past year, because – as any spouse who has survived a combat deployment can tell you – it’s hard to focus on anything other than getting through the days and trying to not think about what will happen if your soldier doesn’t come home. And the post-deployment 1 in the financial slice? I guess I didn’t realize how important it was to me to be an equal financial contributor in our partnership.
So… I’ve got some work to do. I’m going to focus on growing the business, and hope that the money will follow. But I’m also going to spend some time realizing that I still make some pretty valuable contributions around here (anyone for clean BDUs or homemade veggie lasagna?) Just because the deployment is over, doesn’t mean my service doesn’t matter anymore, or that my sense of purpose should disappear. As I struggle to re-define my role in the family for the second time in the past year, I will try to remember that it was my strength and support that got us both through it. And, really, you can’t put a price on that.
I spent the weekend at a winery with my girlfriends. The sun was shining, we had a table on the patio, and I was on my third glass of pinot gris when I came face to face with my biggest pet peeve as an army wife: urban camo. You know what I’m talking about… civilian clothes that come in “cute” camouflage patterns. Sometimes you’ll see them in pink or blue…. mostly in dog collars and infant clothes…. I can get over that. My dogs all wear military “dog tags” after all. But what I can’t seem to accept is full-on, olive green, why-would-you-wear-it-if-you’re-not-in-uniform camo. Women in their 20s and 30s are the biggest offenders. Usually it’s Capri pants with cargo pockets and little drawstrings at the ankles. Or too-tight, ribbed GI Jane-style tank tops. Civilian men are not immune to the camo craze – but they prefer “authentic” surplus-store-style duds…. the knee length shorts made out of an old pair of BDUs, and my absolute favorite: the digital camo backpack/ruck sack. I’m sure they are very useful on missions…. but in the frozen foods aisle at Safeway? Not so much.
“Urban Commando!” Paul shouts whenever we’re out and see someone in their camo gear. “Where?” I ask. “I don’t see anyone.” He nods knowingly. “That’s because they’re camouflaged.” It never ceases to be funny, even though in the small town where we live, there is usually an entire urban battalion down at the Dari-Mart on any given day.
Camo is not a very flattering look on most people, but when I see someone out in their olive green duds, I feel like calling the MPs more than the Fashion Police. Camouflage, to me, signals military. It’s what my husband wears to work. I’m just not sure how it became so popular in civilian attire. Could you imagine the uniform trend catching on? People would be out at bars on Friday nights in their medical scrubs…. Or maybe just the scrub pants, paired with a cute lace camisole or babydoll T? I don’t think so. Will Nordstrom soon carry navy polyester button-ups with faux police badges on the chest? Or evening-wear versions of the bright orange, mesh construction worker vest?
I blame the camo craze on the fascination civilians have with all things military. Witness: boot camp workouts, combat boots and Hummers. Trust me, as someone living the life – it ain’t all that magical.
In the interest of full disclosure: I do have a pair of camo patterned converse tennis shoes. But they were a gift. And really, they do go with everything.
I’m mourning the loss of my Battle Buddy. She’s not really gone, but our husbands are home safely from Afghanistan, and the “battle” that bonded us is over. We still talk every couple of weeks, but gone are the twice-daily phone calls that got us through the long weeks of last year’s deployment. Gone is the shared set of emotions – anger, fear, loneliness, depression, pride, love – that we weathered together.
And I miss her.
Kelly and I spent twelve months of our lives in identical situations, as our husbands were paired up overseas to mentor the Afghan National Army. We met during the pre-deployment briefings a few days before our soldiers left. We experienced every stage of our first deployment together. Though we live three hours apart, we managed several dinners at a halfway point on the highway. She took me to the spa for my birthday weekend. We made the 5-hour rode trip together to attend the funeral of one of our husbands’ fallen comrades, sobbing our way through the service with my head on her shoulder and her hands clasped tightly around mine. We were each other’s source of strength and understanding. There were daily emails, 3-hour phone calls, and countless messages passed between the two of us and our husbands, when one of the guys was able to call before the other. The four of us were linked in a way that is hard to explain. My husband, Paul, wrote Kelly’s number in sharpie inside his uniform so that if anything happened to her husband, she would hear it first from his best friend. Kelly’s husband, Mark, took Paul’s goodbye letter to me, keeping it safe in case it was ever needed.
Paul and I were on R&R in Australia when we learned of the death of a soldier in his unit. We called Kelly in the middle of the night. I needed her.
“How’s Mark?” I asked.
“He needs Paul,” she answered.
Paul needed Mark, too, so he returned to Afghanistan on the next flight.
Paul needed Mark more than he needed me.
And I needed Kelly.
The deployment took my husband away for a year, but it didn’t take my need for a best friend, a confidante, someone to lean on. Kelly became that person. And now that our soldiers are home, it seems like we should release our death-grip on each other, and bond with our husbands again.
But my husband didn’t know me during this deployment the way Kelly did. And Mark and Paul don’t understand the bond Kelly and I share anymore than we can comprehend the new ‘brotherhood’ they claim.
And to be honest, as we both try to navigate marriages in which both partners have changed so much, I’m not sure Kelly and I have ever needed each other more. So why does our closeness seem like a betrayal now when it was essential to our survival just a few months ago?
When the guys came home from the war, Kelly and I rode to the airport together. The four of us headed for the bar and spent the night immersed in karaoke and pitchers of Bud Light. We laughed and told stories of our time apart. Kelly met Paul and I met Mark face to face for the first time. And I had visions of shared vacations and lifetimes of barbeques in each other’s backyards. But in the first glorious days of homecoming, no one tells you how difficult the next few months will be. No one tells you that the man you married will seem like a stranger, and the world he shares with fellow soldiers will always seem foreign and just out of reach. All the prayers and wishes you sent into the universe during the deployment have been granted – he’s home safely and you’re supposed to have everything you’ve ever wanted. He’s your best friend again, and the one person who might be able to understand why you still feel so lonely won’t be able to pick up the phone on a Sunday afternoon – because now her husband is home, too.
The phone woke me up, but I never minded losing sleep for the chance to talk to Paul. He was deep into what he referred to as “the mission” in Afghanistan and was rarely able to call. Usually it was just a quick ‘I love you. I miss you’ conversation. But this time he sounded flustered, restless. Then he said the words that made me sit straight up in bed. The words that we have never spoken about since that night, but will forever be the defining point of the deployment for me.
“Babe,” he said. “I’m afraid if you know the truth about what I’ve had to do here, you won’t love me anymore.”
There was silence on my end of the phone. Was I ready for the truth? Could I handle the truth?
“I will always love you,” I told him, knowing we both hoped desperately that it was true.
I still don’t know what happened in Afghanistan to force him to make that call. But that moment clearly defines two things I learned during the deployment. First, that those of us who have never been in combat cannot begin to fathom the sacrifices we are asking from our men and women in uniform. It’s not just the hardship of being away from their families that we put them through – missing birthdays, holidays and anniversaries; living in the desert without the comforts of home; feeling lonely, isolated. We also ask them to kill when necessary, and carry the burden of that moment with them for the rest of their lives; the questions and doubts that surround that one instant when they were forced to make a very difficult decision. Then we ask them to return to their lives at home and act as if they are the same man or woman who they were before they left. A sometimes impossible task.
Second, that moment reminds me that even though Paul and I may someday talk about what happened in Afghanistan, the version of it that I will come to know will be a much-sanitized, easier to live with ‘truth’ than the one he experienced. I will never see the faces of the enemy shooting at me; never smell the sweat and fear and death that clouds the battlefield; never have to live with the fact that it was my finger on the trigger. Why? Because he did it for me. Because our military personnel volunteered for those missions so that most of us will never have to carry the guilt and stress and heartache of a combat tour. And because they continue to volunteer, we will always be given the option not to volunteer.
So today, on Armed Forces Day, Thank You to all of you that wear, or have worn, the uniform. Your sacrifice is truly staggering.
Yesterday, I had my wisdom teeth out. I woke up and took myself to the appointment. Then I brought myself home, stopping by Burger King for a milkshake and the video store for a chick flick on the way. I spent the day on the couch, doling out my own vicodin and gatorade. But I didn’t feel lonely – I felt strong, independent, and capable. And even with my eyes half-swollen shut; I could see that these feelings were a direct result of the deployment.
My husband returned from Afghanistan three months ago. As an Army National Guard wife in the middle of a deployment, I spent a year learning that being alone was valiant; doing things for yourself meant you were a survivor; needing no one demonstrated your service to our country. And it hasn’t worn off yet. I developed a new sense of self during that deployment year – a sense that I really was capable of anything. I could take care of our 15 acre farm, our 100 year old farmhouse, our 6 dogs – and I could do it all without knowing on a daily basis where Paul was or when I would hear from him.
Those days I spent staring out the kitchen window, wondering if the sedan would pull up carrying the soldiers that would tell me my husband wasn’t coming home – those were battles just as hard-fought at home as the ones Paul waged in the deserts of Afghanistan. National Guard troops are spread out – there are no spouse clubs or weekly coffee dates, no bases with row houses filled with neighbors in the same unit. In the National Guard, there is you, and your soldier, and a world full of civilians who sometimes don’t understand. During a deployment, it’s just you and the civilians. The sense of purpose I felt last year at being part of the mission, supporting a soldier that I loved while he carried out work I believed in, isn’t easy to just put on a shelf now that he’s home… to be taken down and dusted off the next time orders come. It’s not something I can let go of that easily.
But when I woke up this morning and my mouth hurt and there was no one to complain too, I wondered if it’s possible to be too independent. Is it dangerous not to trust anyone but yourself? Even soldiers on the battlefield rely on each other to keep them safe. Still now, in the uncomfortable transitional period of post-deployment, Paul is more at ease sharing his feelings with his buddies from the front lines than with me. But last year, I fought most of my toughest battles alone. And when you become the person who always has it all together; when you don’t need to lean on anyone, and would rather die than ask for help… well, sooner or later, you will be staring at the paperwork in your dentist’s office and not know whose number to put down in the ‘call in case of an emergency’ slot.
Perhaps my civilian girlfriends will read this and say “why didn’t you call us?!” And the answer is simple: because I didn’t need to. But the truth is I would have liked the company. Getting loopy on vicodin is only really fun if you have a buddy there to remember all the crazy things you say, and re-tell them over drinks at next week’s girls’ night.
Military wives are the strongest, most capable, resilient women I know. We have to be. But let us not forget that whether the battlefield is the homefront, the doctor’s office, your workplace or anywhere else you wage war on a daily basis… deep down, it’s OK to still be the girl who needs someone there – if only to grab a fresh bag of frozen peas out of the freezer, because she knows how important it is to get the swelling down before it ruins your plans for the weekend.
You Served is pleased to welcome Katie Dyer, founder of the Heroes at Home blog. Mrs. Dyer is the first guest in our new series – “On Loan at You Served” as we introduce and promote those in the milblogging family.
Mrs. Dyer said she felt “like she had been punched in the stomach” when her husband, Army Capt. Paul Dyer left for Afghanistan in Dec. 2007. As she worked through her emotions, the certified life coach decided she didn’t want anyone else to feel like that when faced with a spouse leaving for combat, so she started the Heroes at Home blog in early 2008.
“I want to reach out and help as many people as I can,” Dyer said.
Don’t miss Mrs. Dyer on the You Served podcast May 21st.
You know, I’m fed up with politics. By writing this post, I do not advocate nor support voting for or against either the subject of this post or his opponents (yes, there are more than one!). But, I can’t keep my mouth shut about the fact that a man that won’t accept the truth about the realities of combat may one day become my boss. Naturally, I’m talking about Barack Obama. And I’m talking specifically about his views on MILITARY-related topics. It is up to YOU to look at each candidate based the entirety of their views and choose accordingly. I simply offer my views as an American who happens to be in the military and will be greatly affected by the policies of ANY President. I criticize now as I will be unable to do so to President Obama without grave consequences. Continue reading this post…
In 2006, the Republicans lost control of Congress under promises by the Democratic congressional candidates to end the war in Iraq. Moveon.org and other groups lobbied hard and spent a lot of money to get anti-war candidates into office. Those candidates informed us of how rotten and terrible the war was going and that they would fix things. Interestingly, I fought every step of the way in trying to inform you, my esteemed audience, of the successes we were having. Patriot and Marcus did so as well. Now we find out that not only were they misleading us – they were downright lying to us just to get elected.
Kelly and I spent twelve months of our lives in identical situations, as our husbands were paired up overseas to mentor the Afghan National Army. We met during the pre-deployment briefings a few days before our soldiers left. We experienced every stage of our first deployment together. Though we live three hours apart, we managed several dinners at a halfway point on the highway. She took me to the spa for my birthday weekend. We made the 5-hour rode trip together to attend the funeral of one of our husbands’ fallen comrades, sobbing our way through the service with my head on her shoulder and her hands clasped tightly around mine. We were each other’s source of strength and understanding. There were daily emails, 3-hour phone calls, and countless messages passed between the two of us and our husbands, when one of the guys was able to call before the other. The four of us were linked in a way that is hard to explain. My husband, Paul, wrote Kelly’s number in sharpie inside his uniform so that if anything happened to her husband, she would hear it first from his best friend. Kelly’s husband, Mark, took Paul’s goodbye letter to me, keeping it safe in case it was ever needed.
