“The Ten Commandments of a Military Wife”
1.Thou shalt not write in ink in thy address book.
2.Thou shalt not covet choice assignments of other uniformed branches of service.
3.Love thy neighbor.
4. Honor thy Commissary and Exchange as long as they both shall live.
5.Thou shalt not ridicule a local politician, for mighty senators from local politicians grow.
6.Thou shall look for the best in every assignment, even though the best may be. “The most childhood diseases in one year,” or “Record snow in one months time.”
7. Thou shall remember all thy friends from all thy assignments, with greeting cards at Christmas, for thou never knowest when thou may wish to spendeth a night with them while enroute to a new post/base.
8.Be kind and gentle to retired, white-haired Exchange and Commissary customers, because thou too will be a retiree someday.
9.Thou shalt not curse thy husband when he’s on TDY on moving day.
10.Thou must never arrive at a new post/base and constantly brag about how everything was much better at the last post/base.
“The Army Wife”
He takes her from the home she knows to lands of which are new. Survival is an unknown place, becomes her test of truth. Her burdens of many and his tanks sometimes are small. She keeps her faith through thick and thin and makes the best of all. She lives with some uncertainty, knows not what dawn may bring, but he knows nothing stops his girl from doing anything. Whether star or stripe or bar adorns his collar or his strife, nothing means more to a soldier than the one he calls his wife.
“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.” 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 sixteen years old getting ready for prom and having to uproot 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 time 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 good-bye. 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 age of 30, 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.
*****************************************
A military wife is mostly girl - though there are times when her husband is away and she is mowing the lawn, that she begins to think that she is also a “boy”. She usually comes in three sizes: petite, plump, and pregnant. During the early years of her marriage it is often hard to determine which size is her normal one.
She has babies all over the world, and she measures her time in places - as other women do in years. “It was at Bliss that we all had the mumps” - “In Germany, Joe was promoted.” At least one of her babies is born or one transfer is accomplished when she is alone - causing her to suspect a secret pact between her husband and the military, which provides for a man to be overseas or TDY at these times. A military wife is international: she may be an Iowa farm girl, a French Mademoiselle, or an ex-army nurse. When discussing their military problems, they speak the same language.
She can be a great actress. Watching her children’s heartbreak at transfer time, she gives an academy award performance; “Arizona is going to be so much fun”. “I hear they have Indian Reservations - with tarantulas - and rattlesnakes,” but her heart is breaking along with theirs and she wonders if this military life is worth the sacrifice. One day later, en route to the new assignment, and filled with a spirit of adventure, she knows it is. That is, if the baby hasn’t come down with a virus, or the twins with measles.
An ideal military wife has the patience of an angel, the flexibility of putty, the wisdom of a scholar - and the stamina of a horse. If she dislikes money, it helps. She loves to gripe (Why shouldn’t the commissary bag my groceries like the supermarket?) She lets off steam and goes back to bagging them again.
She is sentimental, carrying her memories with her in an old footlocker. She often cries at parades without knowing why. She is a dreamer - “We’ll never move again.” She is an optimist - “The next place will be better.” She is a realist - “Oh, well, as long as we’re together.” You might say she’s a bigamist, sharing her husband with a demanding other entity called “DUTY”. When duty calls, she becomes the #2 wife - and until she accepts this fact her life can be miserable.
She is many persons. She is the tired traveler coming down the gang plank with a smile on her lips, love in her eyes, and a new baby in her arms. She is the General’s wife smiling in a reception line until her cheeks ache; the foreign bride in a strange American world. She is, above all, a Woman who married a soldier who offered her the permanency of a gypsy, the miseries of loneliness, the frustration of conformity, and the security of love.
Sitting among all her packing boxes with children squabbling nearby, she is sometimes willing to chuck it all - until she hears the firm step and the cheerful voice of the “Lug” who gave her all this. And, then she is happy to be. “His Military Wife.”
Author Unknown
