Sunday, March 26th 2006, by Congressional mandate is National Support the Troops Day. In honor of this auspicious day, I’ve put together a little something for those who wonder why we ought to support “them.” My sincere thanks for those who unhesitantly support our troops and their families, thank you.
They…
They married some ten years ago.
She fell head over heels for her soldier. Her friends made fun of his haircut while she got weak in the knees seeing him in his dress uniform, adorned with his colorful medals and shiny badges. He couldn’t catch his breath at the sight of her; his palms sweat and heart raced every time he thought of her. He has never known fear like he had on the day he dropped to one knee, looking deeply into her beautiful blue eyes, proposing marriage. She loved the way he looked at her, inside of her, through her with his piercing green eyes. They married some ten years ago.
She loved her soldier. He loved his bride. She made the best of what the Army provided. He loved being a soldier. She never let him see her cry when the roaches threatened to overtake the kitchen, when the plumbing backed up, when the paint chipped, or when the window pane just fell from its frame. He loved how she painted the house with reds, yellows, and blues. He loved how she made the dump a home. She wanted him to feel good about coming home after a long exercise. He felt great coming home from the field. They made the best of things.
She gave him a son. He beamed with pride. She gave him a daughter. He missed the birth of his little girl, but beamed with pride when he received the word via a Red Cross message. They had a family.
He performed well as a soldier. She was proud of her soldier. He received several promotions. She was proud of her husband. They moved a lot in ten years, their longest stay at one base was just three years, one of which he spent deployed to Iraq.
He came home with yet another assignment, yet another move. She was tired. They had a lot to think about, a lot to work out.
She dreaded another move. She questioned, “Why they ought to endure this life?” She wasn’t sure that she had it in her. She knew he’d deploy again shortly after their move. She was tired.
He was excited about the new assignment. He was to be a platoon sergeant and would be taking his platoon to Afghanistan in a few months. He felt pride in his chosen profession of arms.
They packed their SUV to the hilt. They pulled the kids out of yet another school. They drove for three days, stopping at the cheapest motels they could find, eating fast food on the road, all the time wondering what awaited them. They uprooted their family once again.
He went right to work. She registered the kids for school. They lived in a hotel for two weeks and ate their meals from a microwave oven until they moved to a trailer for two more weeks while they waited for a house to become available. She openly cried when they finally moved into the dilapidated house that was to be home for the next two years. She was tired of making the best of things. He felt pangs of guilt. They have been asked of so much.
She cried, unable to speak, holding his neck tightly as they said goodbye, for the third time in six years. He whispered his love for her as he pulled away to get on the plane. They watched through teary eyes as dad left again to fight the war on terror. She was tired. They have been asked of so much.
She again left the television tuned to the Fox News Channel 24/7. She again slept only a few hours a night, on the living room sofa, crying herself to sleep each time. She felt hatred for the Army.
He was mad at his dad for making his mom cry, for leaving them, for missing his football games. She was mad at her mom for seemingly not supporting her dad, she worried about her dad, she missed him and wanted him home. He wrote letters to them weekly, missing his family with all his heart. He fought fiercely, with honor and bravery. They sacrificed, they suffered.
She saw the words race across the bottom of the television screen at two in the morning, “… several American soldiers killed and wounded from explosion in Afghanistan.” She felt like throwing up. She refused to answer the phone. She knew he was gone. She cried uncontrollably when the doorbell rang. She was tired.
He loved America, his wife, and his children. They sacrificed, they suffered, they lost him.
Support ‘em. Sgt Hook out.
Posted by Hook @ 0351 zulu | | Permalink
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