Vee030473
06-21-2006, 01:31 PM
> What it Means to Love a Soldier
> By Jamie Reese
> Special to American Forces Press Service
>
> FORT HOOD, Texas, Oct. 8, 2003 -- She stands in
> line at the post office waiting to send a
> package to her husband, a U.S. Army soldier
> serving in Kuwait. 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
> 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 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 the phone
> 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 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.
>
> (Editor's Note: I have always admired and
> respected the military wife. After working
> with many of you over the past five months, I
> have learned to admire and respect you even
> more. Yours is a critically important job,
> just as your husband's jobs are. On some days,
> your job is even tougher. From supporting
> your soldier, to caring for your family, to
> consoling those who have lost their soldier, to
> many many more jobs that are too long to list,
> it is a difficult and challenging job. I
> salute all our military wives who carry the
> burden and keep the home fires burning while
> our soldiers are off defending our way of life.
> We couldn't do it without your great work).
>
CPT(P) Jonathan P. Aunger and Family
(Blanca, Emily, Annah and JP)
> By Jamie Reese
> Special to American Forces Press Service
>
> FORT HOOD, Texas, Oct. 8, 2003 -- She stands in
> line at the post office waiting to send a
> package to her husband, a U.S. Army soldier
> serving in Kuwait. 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
> 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 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 the phone
> 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 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.
>
> (Editor's Note: I have always admired and
> respected the military wife. After working
> with many of you over the past five months, I
> have learned to admire and respect you even
> more. Yours is a critically important job,
> just as your husband's jobs are. On some days,
> your job is even tougher. From supporting
> your soldier, to caring for your family, to
> consoling those who have lost their soldier, to
> many many more jobs that are too long to list,
> it is a difficult and challenging job. I
> salute all our military wives who carry the
> burden and keep the home fires burning while
> our soldiers are off defending our way of life.
> We couldn't do it without your great work).
>
CPT(P) Jonathan P. Aunger and Family
(Blanca, Emily, Annah and JP)