Deployment, Round Two

A few months ago we got notice of an upcoming deployment for the boy. This time around is non-combat, and he will not be in a war zone. I find myself not knowing how to react to it. It just feels like it always did before, when he was stationed in Germany and I was at school in Iowa. He leaves for several months on end, and then he comes home. Nothing more than that. It is weird to go back to feeling like the days of Germany. It kind of makes me feel 19 again. But more than traveling back in time, I feel like I am wearing other people's shoes. Is this what most military wives feel like? All those jobs that aren't dangerous. All those vital, necessary components of the military that never involve leaving the wire. Is this how they feel when they hear their loved one is deploying? Sad that they'll be gone, but not much more than that?

If this is what that feels like, I could handle this life if it weren't EOD. Especially in the Air Force. 90% of airmen do not leave base when they deploy. If this is what that would feel like, I could really get into the excitement of the military life. I could really do this moving all over the world, being seperated for 4-6 months ever 2 years or so. Yeah, I could handle that. It could be exciting. It could be fun. It could be an adventure.

EOD isn't normally like this. When you hear about an EOD deployment, your heart breaks. You know that they have a higher chance of anyone else in the military of not coming back home. You know they are doing the most dangerous job in the world. You know they can die doing it. You know the odds are against them. In the Air Force, EOD techs account for less than 0.5% of all enlisted personelle and account for nearly 30% of all combat-related deaths. These are the thoughts that keep you up every night of the deployment, wondering if you'll hear his voice tomorrow. These are the statistics that run through your head everytime someone knocks on the door. It doesn't get easier. It doesn't get safer. In fact, it only gets more dangerous the longer the wars go on.

And that, that feeling of a combat EOD deployment, that is why I cannot be an EOD wife. I cannot do this life. I cannot live day in and day out not knowing if he'll come home whole. It's not knowing, if he does come home, who he will be after the dangers and realities and brutalities of war take their toll. It is the ceaseless fear and worry day in and day out. This is why, although he is deploying again, I am relieved. Because he's not going back to Afghanistan. Because he will be coming home. Because he is going to be safe. Because when he comes home, he will still be my boy.

Adulthood

I really hate South Dakota.

I really hate being an adult.

Prior to moving out here I really thought it didn't matter where I lived as long as I was with my boy. That is not the case. He is wonderful. He is amazing. Living with him is amazing. But I miss having friends. I'm becoming close to one of my co-workers, but she is moving back to her hometown in April because she hates it here, too. And my boy is deploying again soon after. So I approach a spring of goodbyes. I don't know what is going to happen to me after she moves and he deploys. What do I do without friends? Who can I call to come over and distract me on the bad days? Who will hold me when I worry, and make me laugh when I feel lonely? Who can I share a summer with?

The biggest problem is I don't know how to meet people outside of school. Of course I've met the shop wives, and most of them are very nice, but they have kids. I am younger than most of them, and childless. Once you have kids, the priorities switch drastically, and hanging out with casual friends isn't as big of a priority anymore. Most people my age in Rapid City have children already, and think that I am crazy for not having them yet. I have been asked if something is wrong with me because I don't have kids. At 21 years old. In addition, most people here are very conservative and have strongly different world views and values from my own. This makes it very hard to make friends. I just don't know how to meet people. And once I meet people I don't know how to make them into a friend. Being an adult is hard work. But it isn't hard work for the reasons people warn you about. Job searching, working, being responsible, paying bills. That's pretty cut-and-dry. You learn how to do those things. You are taught how to do them. They happen on a schedule and are regular and predictable. That's pretty easy. Scary to say the least, but simple. Making friends is not simple. Meeting people is not simple. Meeting like-minded people in a different-minded place is very hard. And very scary.

I am in school still, getting my masters degree, but we attend classes and then go home. Most of my classmates are significantly older than me, and those near my age all have children, presenting the same-old problem as always. I want young, free, independent friends. I want friends who I can call up and see on the spur of the moment. I want my old friends back. But I made a choice, and I moved, and now I feel very alone.

Like a round peg trying to fit in a square hole.

Lessons from The Avengers

Last night the boy and I watched The Avengers. During one scene, Iron Man flies through a space warp or something, I don't even know, with a missile to prevent the missile from blowing up in New York City and killing everyone. Iron Man tried to call his fiancee, but could not reach her. While watching this scene, the boy says "look at how much of a hero he is, willing to die to save the entire city." I say "look at how he is willing to ruin his fiancee's life."

I guess that makes me super selfish, but it's true. That's how I feel. Men and women go to war, most of them going into a war they don't agree with or don't think we should still be in, and leave their families behind. To me, that says, I am willing to die for something I don't agree with and ruin your lives forever. I honestly don't know if I could ever forgive the boy if something happened to him. That sounds so awful, but I'm not here to make you like me. I'm here to be honest. I would be so mad at him if he died for a war he doesn't think we should be fighting anymore. It's basically saying this ridiculous war is more important than my happiness.

And worse than that, so much worse, are the men and women who risk their lives for a cause they don't agree with and leave their children behind. How can you do that to a child? How can you leave for months and months on end, missing your child's birth, your child's first steps, your child's first words, first day of school, birthdays, Christmases, school plays, sporting events? How do you leave your child to go fight a war you don't agree with? I just truly don't understand. And if something happened to you, how do you think that child would feel? I know as a child I would have felt like my parents thought the war was more important that my happiness. And, quite frankly, if anything is more important to you than your child's happiness and well-being, I just don't think you should be having children. If you are more willing to die for a cause you don't agree with than leave your career and raise a family, your priorities are messed up.

I know the entirety of this post I have implied that these men and women don't agree with the wars they are fighting. In my experience with military members, this is almost always true. Most of these people, by this point in the game, do not think we should still be in Afghanistan. They think it's a lost cause, or a wasted effort, and we should not be there anymore. But still, they go back when they are sent. And they leave everyone who loves them behind. I just don't understand. And maybe that makes me selfish, but so be it. I am selfish, and I don't understand.

Balance

Before moving to South Dakota I was sad, it was no secret. I was depressed and anxious and sad. And when asked what would make me less sad, I always knew the answer. I always knew, without hesitation, that being with my boy is all I needed to be happy. All I needed. I was wrong.

I've lived here for nearly two months now, and I am still sad. I am still anxious. I am still lonely. Because I'm still missing something. Except this time I'm missing friends. Back in Iowa I had friends, not many, but I did. They were few and they were close. We didn't hang out every day, or every week, or hell with the exception of my roommate every month. We just knew that we had the other's back when things got tough. We knew we were a phone call and a short walk or a few hour drive away. Here, I have my boy. And that comfort is irreplaceable. I go to bed each night in his arms and know he is safe and know he is here and I have my best friend and my soulmate by my side each night. It's truly just great. But what I don't have is, well, anyone else. Everyone else I love and care about in my life is a 9 hour drive away. I honestly thought when I moved out here that a Skype date here and there, a phone call, a text message, would keep things the same with my friends since we never did hang out much when I was around. But no. It isn't the same. Not at all. Nothing replaces knowing that a girlfriend is a few blocks away. Nothing replaces going over to your best friend's house, watching Disney movies and eating buckets of ice cream while you cry your eyes out about all the stresses and worries of life. A night that ends up the two of you cuddling each other's shaking bodies to sleep. Not having that is hard. Knowing it is so far apart is harder.

This is what military life is. It is choosing to be with your love the precious little time you have between deployments and TDYs and VIPs and trainings, or choosing to be with your family and your friends. It's never ever both. It's always a choice. It's always throwing your life out of balance. It's always ripping you away from something you love and something you need. It is always leaving you half empty, with a hole in your heart and a lump in your throat. It is always hard, no matter what choice you make. No matter where you go. There will never be balance. There will never be harmony. That is what military life is: Out of balance.

Human Rights

This post is a change of pace. This post is about love, and the importance of recognizing all forms of love. I recently moved from Iowa to South Dakota to be with my boy as he is stationed out here. This transition has been very difficult for me in general, but particularly for me as a bisexual female. In Iowa, all LGBT individuals are protected in housing, employment, bullying laws, and hospital visits. We are also one of the few states that have legalized gay marriage. Iowa is truly a state that protects all citizens, regardless of color, religion, sexual orientation, or gender identity. I felt so protected in Iowa that I almost didn't even think of my sexual orientation on a daily basis. I didn't think about how it affected my life, or how it affected how other's viewed me, because I am so comfortable with myself, and so comfortable with the law I had at my back. Then I moved to South Dakota. Here, I could be denied housing if I was living with a same-sex partner instead of an opposite sex one. I could be denied a job or fired from a job if my employers found out my sexual orientation. Same sex partners do not have hospital visitation rights. Same sex partners cannot adopt children. Same sex partners cannot marry, nor are they even given the option of domestic partnership or civil union. Now, my sexual orientation is very obvious to me. I have to hide it. I have to keep my mouth closed. I could be in danger, and completely under protection of the law, if I am honest and open about who I am. I feel like I am less than everyone around me, and I feel like it is painfully obvious. 

Last weekend I went to Pride here in Rapid City. The event was small. There were 5 booths set up, and a few people playing songs throughout the day. It all took place in a small park, less than one square-block, and fewer than 300 people showed up throughout the day. It was sad and small. Afterwards, I decided I had to make a change. Monday, I start volunteering at Black Hills Center for Equality. My goal is to raise awareness about the necessity for legal change, and if that is not possible to at least create a more powerful, united community so that no one feels alone, even if everywhere else in the community they feel attacked.

It has never been more apparent to me how necessary legal protection is than when I was suddenly denied them. Only now do I really realize, first hand, how important that legal protection is. How much harm it does when it is not present, and how degrading it is to be treated, in every aspect, like a second-class citizen. I deserve the same rights as every straight person in our society. I deserve to hold a job if I am qualified, regardless of my sexual orientation. I deserve housing regardless of who I am living with. I deserve to visit a loved one in the hospital even if my loved one is a same-sex partner. All children deserve to be protected from bullying in school regardless of sexual or gender identity. All people deserve to be protected from hate crimes regardless of their sexual or gender identity. It should not be political. It should not be religious. It should be obvious. Human rights are for all people, of all color, of all walks of life, of all socioeconomic statuses, of all genders, of all sexualities. Human rights are for all of us.

EOD Memorial

Almost exactly a month ago my fiance and I made the emotional decision to go down to Eglin Air Force Base in Florida to attend the annual EOD memorial. 287 names of fallen EOD brethren are listed on the memorial. These names represent those who gave the ultimate sacrifice in times of war since EOD was officially formed in 1942. Of those 287 names, 128 have been added since September 11, 2001.  This year 18 names were added, more than any other single year since the memorial's construction: 5 soldiers, 5 marines, 3 sailors, and 5 airmen. One of those names was my boy's best friend, Joseph Hamski, KIA May 26, 2011. At the memorial the Air Force chief of staff acted as keynote speaker, speaking of the continued importance of EOD technicians even as the US withdraws troops, as IEDs and roadside bombs continue to be the number one killer of US troops in Afghanistan. One thing was said during the speech that has truly stuck with me, and I feel truly exemplifies the EOD techs of the US military: "The brains of an engineer, the hands of a surgeon, and the courage of a martyr. These are our EOD techs." I could not have said it better, and I could not be more proud.


The memorial was a very emotional experience, and I cried through most of the ceremony. After the ceremony we went up to the wall and honored the names of our fallen brothers. We also spoke to some of the widows and family members of the deceased, especially Joseph Hamski's wife. Nearly a year after her husband's death she was able to have a smile on her face through the tears falling and she was truly appreciative of the support and love surrounding her. She is beautiful and strong, and I truly admire her perseverance in the face of unimaginable pain and loss. This marked only the third time I met her, but I feel so connected to her, as if I have to do everything I can to take care of her. I only hope if something happened to my boy I would be shown the same care. I just wanted to hold her and make all the pain go away. Of course, that is simply not possible, but that's what I wanted to do.


After the memorial, later that evening, there was a ball. Here a memorial video was shown of all 18 service members honored at the ceremony, and I just bawled through the whole thing. It was so touching, and so sad. It is unbelievably tragic, but only a month after the ceremony, we already have 5 more names to be added to the wall at the 2013 ceremony. I can't wait for the year we never have to add another name to this beautiful and tragic memorial.

I walked away from the weekend filled with sorrow, fear, respect, and pride. I couldn't be more proud of my boy for doing the most dangerous job in the world. I couldn't have more respect for every man and woman who does this job with bravery and selfishness unmatched by anything I have ever seen. I have so much sorrow for the widows, the children, the parents, the siblings, and the friends who have lost a loved one in this field and in these wars. I will remember, always, those who gave all in the name of freedom. May they rest in peace and bring comfort to their families as they try to carry on a life with a hole in their hearts.

Grievances

Historically change occurs following a public statement of grievances. The founding fathers of the United States did it in the Declaration of Independence. Martin Luther did it in a note stapled to a church door. And I am doing it here. In a blog. That 8 people read. I obviously don't expect the world to change because of this. But this is my list of grievances to the military.

1. I exist. No, I have not married my partner. No we are not legally recognized. But yes I exist. I have been with him through all but 5 months of his military service, through tech school, through an overseas station, through a deployment. I have done it all. So recognize me. Give me access to family resources. Give me access to  assistance. Give me help. Because if I weren't here, he wouldn't be the service member he is.

2. He does not own me. If I say something wrong, assuming it does not violate OPSEC (Operation Security, which basically is a set of rules saying that while they are deployed one should never say exact dates or exact locations) or the Next of Kin notification in the case of injury or death, you just have to deal with it. I did not sign your contract. I did not give you my life. I can bitch and moan and complain about you all I want. Deal. It's not treason, and it's not dangerous information, so leave me alone. Furthermore, if I say something that you deem inappropriate, it sure as hell is not my boy's fault! He does not own what I say. He does not control me or my words. I have heard of hundreds of spouses getting in trouble or getting their service member in trouble for complaints about missing their service member (Not OPSEC or NOK violations). The military punishes the service member because in their minds, the dependents are the responsibility of the service member. I have my own voice. I am not his. He does not have a say in what I say. Deal with it.

3. If you are going to recognize me when I do something wrong you have to recognize me when I do something right.

4. Sexual assault happens in the military, and you need to address that! You can't diagnose victims with a personality disorder, discharge them, and never have to deal with it again. That is the most disgusting thing I have ever heard. You don't solve the thousands of problems with your system by dismissing them and pretending it never happened.

5. Mental health is of utmost importance. You talk a lot about the importance of it, and do little to advocate for it. You fire civilian counselors and mock service members who seek help. You know what happens when mental illness isn't addressed? People beat and kill their families. People lose it and kill 16 Afghan civilians. Do you think it is a problem yet? Then don't mock those who seek help.

6. Do you know how much it kills the service member and their families when you send them on deployments with only a week or two notice? Don't do that shit. This war thing isn't new. Get it together. Plan. Organize. And give us warning.

7. Fix the Next of Kin notification. Punish those who disobey it. Punish them hard! Put all service members in the know of the incident on communication blackout and enforce it like your life depends on it, because I swear to you if anything ever happened to my man and I did not find out by that dark sedan pulling up to my house, your life would depend on it.

8. Fix everything. There isn't an aspect of the military that isn't, in some capacity, broken or breaking. Fix it. Don't just let it be because it's how it's always been. Don't just let it be because it is hard to try to change it. Don't just let it be because of the consequences of speaking out. Fix it because lives depend on it. It is your responsibility to bring these men and women home, and if things within the system are putting men and women at greater danger than they need to be, you have a responsibility to do absolutely everything in your power to change it.

I promise there are a million more, but in the interest of not going too crazy, nor driving one of the 8 people who read this too crazy, I will stop now.