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Deployment Lessons

Looking back at the last 18 months of my life I can say that I understand myself and Soldier Geek a bit better. The experience of deployment is different for every service-member and every family. I am grateful that we had just the right kind of support from our families and friends, and I am grateful that we don't have children yet. While having a kid or two would have made the time pass by faster, I also feel it would have made for some additional painful moments when I would have to explain to the kids why I'm wailing at 4 o'clock in the morning or why the news made me gasp. Similarly, I am glad that our friends and families were there for us when we needed them, but also gave us space when we simply couldn't handle human contact.

What follows here is a mish-mash of memories and bits of wisdom. They're not meant as any kind of a guide for anyone facing a deployment, they are mostly here as a reminder for myself should we have to face another deployment under similar conditions. I tried numbering these itty-bitty lessons, but gave up in the end. There are too many, and re-ordering them constantly didn't make the numbering easy.

Freezer bags are your friends. Just about anything I have sent in a care package had its own freezer bag. Anything liquid was double-bagged with zippers facing in opposite directions. That way the rest of the package isn't ruined if the can of V8 decides it's time for it to open midway across the Suez canal.

Astronaut ice-cream is priceless! And it's the only kind of ice-cream that will travel 8000 miles and not melt in 130F heat. Not to mention it actually tastes close to the real thing.

Coffee... Coffee... COFFEE!!! I don't think I have to say anything else on this topic.

If you can't say it, write it. Communications can range from good to non-existent. Keeping a make-shift journal in a text file (or any other way) is extremely helpful when the service-member can't be reached.

Fill the time. You know how everyone complains that they don't have the time to organize their files, photographs, shoes, collection of toothpicks from memorable restaurants? Deployments are great for that -- because you'll have more time to feel sorry about yourself than ever before. And mundane tasks like going through files are great to get your mind off the fact that you still have 15 months to go until your significant other comes home.

What's the point? While you're gingerly sorting through decades of old photos, the thought of "what's the point?" may nudge you as gently as a semi trailer loaded with cacti. Dreading the loss of the most loved person can take away the meaning from everything in life. For example, "What's the point of washing the dishes if he doesn't come home?" Or "Why should I buy another sweater?" It's a terrible trap, and one has to convince oneself that there is point to life no matter what happens, despite the possibility of unimaginable, horrible things happening. I really hope I can maintain that level of faith next time.

Alone time is ok. Our friends have been truly wonderful to us during the deployment (and they continue to be). They made an effort to reach out to us, and they grinned and squinted through a billion stories about Iraq, sleeping alone, crying, and maniacally laughing in the face of death. Which is why I felt so bad when I couldn't stand to be near another human being, and refused their company. Simply, there were times when I was so miserable and bitter, I could have been labeled "contagious, keep quarantined." Kudos and gratitude to everyone who managed around me when I was at my worst. :-)

Get to know the postal worker. Care packages can be expensive. But they were worth every penny of hundreds of dollars we spent on them in the last year and a half. I sent packages about once a week (sometimes more frequently, sometimes skipped because of travel, illness, etc.). The flat-rate boxes from USPS became my very good friends. The care packages provided me with a precious connection with Soldier Geek: when our hands couldn't touch, at least he could touch something that was in my hands short time ago. Throughout the week I'd plan what to send, and Sunday evenings were my care-package time. I tried to include local newspaper, a magazine, a printout of a few jokes, a home-made DVD with some TV shows, good food, "bad" food, some random act of silliness like the USB powered doggie toy humping the computer. Every Monday at approximately 7:30am, the postal clerk at the office had a ritual: stamp six copies of customs forms and listen to me rant how glad I am that another week has passed and how incredible it is that USPS and Military Mail get the parcels from Massachusetts to Iraq in less than a work-week. I'm sure he doesn't miss stamping all those forms. I do miss the routine of assembling care packages, but having Soldier Geek home somehow outweighs that loss.

Priceless strangers. There were times I felt so isolated in our community. We live in essentially a college-town, far, far from any military installations. College kids are nice and bright and thank goodness they don't know much about war or separation hardships. And the general civilian population doesn't seem to keep war in their mind. Can't blame them much... it's not like I wore a "husband in Iraq" stamp on my forehead. In this environment, if I tried to speak of how it is to be a spouse on deployment, I would find very little understanding. That is why the online forum for military spouses was so important. The stories of other military SOs, their DHs, and their stories made it easier to say "I'm not completely insane, yet." In all our miseries and loneliness the online community helped us keep each other strong through some of the most terrifying times of deployments. Big hugs to the LYC ladies!

And now you're here. Shortly after all that homecoming adrenaline wears off, you realize that now you don't have alone time, you don't make decisions on what and when to do alone, and suddenly there's another person whose needs and wants need to be considered. And the only solution, barring mind-reading abilities, is to speak up. Whatever the item of frustration, the only solution is to say so if one would rather read a news-report than discuss when the car oil should be changed. Most of these topics can wait anyway.

The bottom line is ... Soldier Geek came home intact and mostly the same as when he left. That's all I could ask for.

Closed and Farewell

Posting soon may have been a misstatement.

I have been home now for over a month and am slowly slipping back to graduate student life with late mornings and a constant flow of caffeine. Ms. Geek and I moved to our new apartment and spent most of the past few weeks organizing, cleaning, throwing out, and simplifying. The setup we have now is cozy, but simple and comfortable. I like simple and it has been fun to really have the time to do it.

I'm not working yet, and don't plan to for another 2 months. This has given me some time to clean out my digital files, reshuffle things around, and get in some much needed exercise. The past 18 months have served to strip away the apparent necessity for things I felt were important before. The only vices I claim now are video games, books, and coffee.

Ms. Geek has been great. She's freely indulged my coffee intake, grudgingly approved my video games, and allowed me to keep most of my books. I have donated or sold a few - but that was mainly to make room for future books. As it stands now, I believe there are about 20 books in my library that I need to read before I can justify purchasing more. Among these are a History of Israel and The Wealth of Nations, that have about 1600 pages total, so it'll be a while before I can justify more.

The adjustment to civilian life has been going smoothly. I had some sleeping issues at first, problems with crowds of people, and jitters at loud thudding noises. Aside from the last issue, I'm getting along just fine. The only real danger I had to deal with in Baghdad came from mortars and rockets. I had a controlled detonation site near my sleeping quarters. All of which explains the aversion to loud thudding noises.

I do have some moments where being back home feels surreal. I'll be walking along a street and will get the strangest feeling that I shouldn't be here or a recollection of Baghdad. It'll take just a second, but it's a bit jarring. Almost like being abruptly transported to a different place very rapidly.

I miss the other two O3s I served with. We got along very well and we formed a cohesive operations section for such a non-doctrinal part of the division. They're both active duty Navy LTs, which was a learning experience for me. One is back with his wife and daughter. He left the day after she was born, so it was pretty rough for him watching his daughter's first 16 months away from home. The other is having the time of his life in Las Vegas. They both seem to be doing well.

Ms. Geek and I are prepping a care package for the folks who replaced us. A huge bag of Dunkin Donuts coffee is in the box along with various other treats. She has had to make the adjustment of actually having me physically present. When I was gone, she had a routine that kept her sane. Every Monday was package day where she would go to the post office and mail my care package. She misses that, in some strange way.

I appreciate that she's not asking too many questions about Iraq. I've told her most of the important things. I excluded all the times the rockets landed close to my locations or where people died that could just have easily been me. It would have worried her too much. The one exception to this was in October when a large rocket attack killed a few people and wounded 3 dozen at our location. Since it was all over the news, I couldn't exactly say nothing.

All in all, things are going well. I will no longer be posting on this blog.

I have started work on a new creative outlet.

Reunited

Soldier Geek is back in the US. It was a long journey. He promises to post soon.

Restlessness

Imagine Christmas morning, just before opening presents. An important work or school deadline. Pregnancy coming to term. We're closing in on the end of this deployment and the intense mixture of emotions is difficult to tame. Restlessness permeates every moment of the day. Few topics are strong enough to capture our full attention, and time doesn't pass fast enough. Every day that passes brings both joy and a sigh because so many days still remain. With eyes on the (still unknown) day of our reunion, we hold our breath in hopes that plans won't change too many times. It is difficult to resist writing in pen something so important as having your life back after a year and a half on hold. Must resist the urge... Must write in pencil.

The Final Miles

It turns out that some of my friends really do read this blog. Through the miracles of the internet, I've managed to keep in touch with most people. I even reconnected with friends from high school! But still, I should write something.

This has not been an easy time. But it could have been worse...

That's the mantra for many people here - it can always get worse. It rarely gets better. That's why these past two months have been almost surreal to us. When I first arrived in Baghdad, it was unusual for us not to have a rocket or mortar attack at least once a day, if not more. The morning Battle Update Assessment was always tough to listen to because we'd always hear about some soldiers (usually more than one) who had lost their lives the previous day. The first night here, the perimeter guns were lighting some people up. The third day, a mortar attack landed on the living pad next to ours. And so on for several months.

Now, instead of getting attacked, instead of yet another day of the local Iraqis not meeting with Coalition Forces, instead of the neighborhood council members, Iraqi contractors, and tribal leaders winding up dead...instead, we have progress. The neighborhood councils and sheiks are working together, the government is making plans, and people are hopeful. If you had asked me 5 months ago if I thought this would happen - if I thought that Iraq would stabilize and we'd see the sort of cooperation we're seeing now - I'd have laughed at you.

What happened? I really don't have an explanation. At least not one specific explanation. I have a theory that we finally hit a tipping point with security, with the misery the Iraqis were enduring at the hands of a very few extremists. One thing is clear to me - it wasn't primarily us that affected this change - it was the Iraqis. They needed breathing room - security - to organize themselves and figure out how to make their situation better.

They finally had enough of the violence, and given the choice between a nation ruled by the brutal AQI and one governed by an occupier trying to help their nation, they chose the occupier. This is an overly simplistic explanation and I require a bit of decompression to make sense of what's happened, to really digest the unbelievable volume of information I take in on a daily basis, and to put it into words.

Iraq still has a long, long way to go, but for the first time in many months, I feel hopeful. And that will be the one positive I take away from this.

What Gets Me Through

Recently, I was at a meeting with a number of new faces (most to be colleagues) and their spouses (or significant others). Everyone was introducing themselves and their partners, save myself and another young woman. She is single.

The silence was sticky following my introduction, which included stating that Soldier Geek is deployed. That was nothing new. Despite daily news about this war, people are still incredibly removed from the war and the people sent to fight it. For me, this is a discouragingly isollating experience. Sometimes I wish that Soldier Geek was active duty, so that we could live on-base and I could be surrounded by people who understand what it means to be a "spouse on deployment".

I've been answering questions about deployment for about a year now. Although I've heard "that must be so hard" and "I wouldn't be able to handle it" a few thousand times each, I am still caught off guard by the question: "How do you manage?"

I'm not sure.

Some things that get us through are simple. For example, time marches on... even while you're numbly staring at the ceiling during sleepless nights. Sometimes, you fall asleep from sheer exhaustion (physical or emotional). Can't cry forever, that kind of thing.

Friends get me through, too. You simply can't have enough friends. I estimate that 3-4 friends per weekday is about the right number to handle most day-to-day loneliness. On a really crappy day, I can share my mysery with as many as 20 people and still feel lonely and isolated. Everyone's fantastically tollerant of my rants, there's simply a lot of pain to share. I will owe a lot of listening hours to my friends once this deployment is over. Come on in, Ms. Geek's problem-solving office is open...

Sometimes you stumble upon invaluable advice, something that resonates. Soldier Geek once forwarded me a great page by Tom McMahon:

Muddle through

I've never seen a self-help book with this advice, but really it's some of the best advice I can give somebody going through a difficult stretch. Sometimes the absolute best you can do isn't that pretty, or elegant, or graceful, or frankly all that inspiring. When you're in one of those stretches, stop worrying about it. Nobody else could do that much better in your position either.

Sometimes, a simple sentence can get me through an hour, or a day. Sometimes that's all I need -- a bridge to the next moment, so that I don't fall apart right now. Some of my mil. spouse favorites are: Stay strong; Hang in there; Keep your chin up; One step at a time... even if it's baby steps; &c. Simple, effective, and doesn't result in carpal tunnel symptoms.

There are also really difficult days. Like today. When the world turns against you, demands several sacrifices at once, and you run into your own anti-thesis in flesh and blood. Today, I wished Soldier Geek was home to counteract the cold-hearted reality. I just needed my partner, my best friend, to help me through this moment of weakness.

But in the end, being a spouse of a deployed service member is about relinquishing control for things we can't change, and about choice in our own behavior. I've become more mindful. I've become accustomed to taking a deep breath, and letting things unfold before I unleash months of grief neatly stored up.

In the end, you have no choice but to somehow be an optimist... a very worried, tired, lonely optimist.

Strange Times

Over the last 7 months, I used to spend Sunday afternoons planning out care packages. There were times when parts of my apartment were covered in cardboard boxes, and multi-packs of protein bars, snacks, tuna lunches, newspapers, etc. Find the right box, see if magazines will fit. Check what was sent in the previous packages. When was it that I included a toothbrush? Don't forget a photo. Edit the DVD chapter titles to match what was recorded; finalize the DVD. What's on this week? Is there a series premiere? Program the DVD recorder. Wrap the DVD. Double-bag all liquids or moist items. If I was lucky, I had hunted down a friend or two to record a video greeting. (If I am really lucky we will be able to video-phone for a bit using Skype.) Fill out the 6-page customs declaration form, and shipping label. Thank the gods of USPS and Military Mail for delivering all these packages. Oh, almost forgot the incense!

These are strange times, now. For the past 7 months, Sundays were days to prepare something that I know would touch Sodier Geek's hands. It's strange to live on such a plan. Now, it seems even stranger that this particular Sunday I am not preparing any care packages. Soldier Geek is expected sometime next week for his break from the sandbox. I can count the days on my fingers. (Not that I know the exact number of days left, but I believe it's less than 10. Military transport has its own schedule, and even its own time-zone.) It feels very strange that come Monday morning I will not be going to the Post Office. It feels even stranger to know that we will finally see each other. I just hope that things go more or less according to plan, and that we get to see each other soon.

The 50 yard line, come and gone

This post was originally written before the leave (R&R). The leave -- which was great and entirely too short -- ended a couple of days ago. We're back to our usual grind.

SG: The half-way mark is here and gone and it feels good. The remaining time feels like a blip. The past year has produced a number of...

MG: ...landmarks. We got married, Soldier Geek got promoted, and we've spent thus far more than 32 million seconds apart. Not that we count. (We have an automated counter to do that for us.) Our lives have changed in many respects, including a new strength in dealing with distance and ...

SG: ...uncertainty. The past year has been difficult for me on a deep level. My ideals and assumptions have been seriously challenged. My patience has been worn by long days, frustration, and disillusionment. I feel stripped and ready for a refit. Ms Geek has been my pacer on this marathon, yelling encouragement from the sidelines when the day has been rough and my spirits have been dragged down by events and news largely beyond my control. And so I keep placing one foot in front of the other...

MG: ...and hanging in there like the kitten on the office encouragement poster. Some days, it feels as if Soldier Geek is on a business trip, and he hasn't been away for more than a weekend. Other days feel like the world is ending. Those are the days when I look back and see the long string of 365 days of this abnormal life, lined up along Past St. all the way to intersection with Yesteryear Blvd. The worst part is that we didn't drive or take a bus, but crawled every inch of the pavement. Fortunately, there's only about 6 months to homecoming, and only about 3 weeks to R&R (rest and relaxation, a.k.a. "leave"). This is a long needed break for us to reconnect...

You might be a military spouse if...

(A selection from hundreds of possible entries, of course.)

...You live on your own and by yourself more after you're married than before you were married.

...You know all of your husband's coworkers by their last name, and rarely know their first name or even gender.

...Your husband's work and dress clothes cost more than yours do.

...You only write in pencil because EVERYTHING is subject to change.

...You know that a 2 month separation IS short, no matter what your civilian friends say.

...You have enough camouflage in your house to wallpaper the White House.

...You don't bat an eyelash at 22:45 and 0300 duty times.

...You are asked to stop talking in acronyms and translate it all to English.

...You are in a disagreement with a bill collector and say, "Let me speak with your commander!"

...You've done more oil changes than your spouse, and even when your husband is home the mechanic asks to speak with you.

...You ask someone to hold on a second by saying, "Stand by."

...Military homecomings on TV bring tears to your eyes because you can relate so well.

...You've ever checked your email multiple times an hour in hopes your spouse has written you, and know how horrible email being "down" is.

...You wouldn't dream going anywhere without your cellphone, and all your other numbers forward to it.

...You've researched ways to surgically attach your cellphone to yourself.

...If you have a power of attorney, USE it, and freak out when it expires.

...If you know that not everyone accepts a power of attorney, despite the fact it gives you permission to practically BE your spouse.

...If you've ever argued that fact with someone in person or over the phone and gotten nowhere.

...Your husband spends more time getting ready for a formal function than you do, and on an average day spends way too much time ironing, polishing shoes, and shaping his beret.

...Someone with a machine gun asks to see your ID before you enter the grocery store.

...You can literaly hold down the fort while your spouse is deployed or in the field.

...You know that 'dependa(e)nt' means anything but.