Redeployment. It is supposed to be a wonderful, happy occasion. I will let you know. Because I have not yet had the pleasure of holding up my bedazzled sign for B Daddy.
Earlier this week, I did go with friends to see their husbands off the plane. It was very emotional for me. And by that, I mean I was shooting mental daggers at said friends because I was pouty and jealous. Regardless, it was an amazing experience. One can that only be topped by the return of MY husband.
The whole welcome home shindig is very theatrical. The plane lands in a spot that seems to be the complete other end of the tarmac. Officers are lined up waiting to welcome and thank the soldiers. The band is playing. At least you think this is what is going on, because it is about a quarter of a mile away, and the wind is blowing the other direction.
The soldiers, who have now been flying, and who have slept only sitting up for days now have to cross the tarmac. Past the cheering families and friends. Into a room for their briefing and some homecoming paperwork.
Meanwhile, aforementioned families and friends have gone back inside to wait for their loved ones to be released.
And meanwhile again, the soldiers are now done with the official stuff and now walk back outside, around the building and to the big rolling garage door.
At this point, it was after midnight and my back was hurting and my dedication was waning. Then it started.
A very loud banging on the metal door. A wall of smoke blowing across the door. Bruce Springsteen blaring Born in the USA. And the door starts to roll up.
I don’t care how tired you are. How cold hearted you are. Because you are suddenly the proudest, most emotional American ever. Well, other than the other 500 people in the room.
This is the easy part of redeployment. The parts after that, I am hoping will go smoothly.
That is where you, my dedicated readers (both of you) come in.
We love you. We thank you for your support. But get lost. Give my soldier time to readjust. Regardless of whether or not your soldier has seen combat, your soldier has been living by a whole other set of rules.
Respect these 2 things: Recognize that personal space is important. I have watched the slight panic in many eyes as they are rushed by crowds. Yeah, your soldier has been around other people for the past year. But they were just like him.
Thingy number two? Don’t ask how much combat was seen, or if he fired his weapon, or if he killed someone. Because regardless of his reaction, I may throw a neck punch or two. He (or she) will talk about everything when, and if they are comfortable.
OK, three things. Regardless how long it takes him to readjust, he is not broken. There is not something “wrong” with him. He may need someone to talk to. He may need help sleeping. But he did it for YOU, not for the extra monthly pennies.
Now, ask me in a few weeks if I was able to practice what I preach. Because it 2 weeks, that chick in jammie pants tackling her husband on the tarmac? That will be me. Very happily, that will be me…
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