Deployment Blogs (Part 4 of 4)

Leaving Al Taqqadum.

September 18, 2007

Deployment Day 241

Everywhere The Kid and I went on Camp Lejeune, we saw decorations and signs posted by host units for reunions. On the miles of fence around the base, there were bed sheets with hand painted messages, hung out where returning service members wound see them.

The information coming from the various liaison offices never agreed about what time the Surgical Company might show up at the French Creek Rec Center. “Be there Monday at 0900” or “Show time is 1000.” Then we heard, “The plane is delayed until 1030.” Peggy, the hospital ombudsman said, “1400.” We elected to go with 1000. We’re pretty skilled at waiting in place.

When we arrived, there were folks camped out like tail-gaters at a football game. Inside the building, there was a friendly Motor-T Staff Sergeant with a spread of snacks and drinks for the waiting families. He also had a direct line to the transportation office. He informed us that the plane was late leaving Leipzig, Germany, and not on the ground yet. We reversed course and went exploring. We stopped at the Exchange for some flowers and then checked out static display armored vehicles. At 1145 we returned for the update. The plane was on the ground and the Surgical Company was setting a new record for the slowest unloading of people and bags, ever.

We killed time by chatting with other families and playing some x-box games. Around 1300, the Staff Sergeant announced they were on the road to Lejeune with the first stop at the Armory to turn in weapons. The second stop was Medical for a blood draw, then they would come to the Rec Center. At 1430, a tractor-trailer pulled into the driveway. A group of Marines showed up and unloaded what seemed like an endless supply of sea bags and packs. We knew they were really coming because we were allowed to collect Angie’s bags and stow them in our vehicle.

Unloading in the U.S.A.

About 1600, the wife of a corpsman spotted three charter busses loading at the medical clinic. I rounded up The Kid from the x-box area and we headed to the front drive to stake out a piece of curb. What was a few folks sitting under trees turned into hundreds instantly. There were wives, a few husbands, kids, parents, friends, and co-workers. Many of the women dressed like they were going on a first date, others wore maternity clothes over bulging bumps. Many parents were in photo print shirts that proclaimed “Proud Parent of a …” Most everybody had flags, flowers, or cameras. We wore pre-arranged yellow shirts to make us easy to see. I also had flowers, and three service members cell phones to hand out.

At 1620, I heard the shouts and hoots of joy long before I saw the busses. They slowly rolled up to the Rec Center and stopped bumper to bumper. When they were shut down, all three doors opened simultaneously. The men whose children were born while they were away jumped off first. Order and reason evaporated into a gush of emotion, hugs and kisses. I told The kid to watch the third bus and I’d watch the first and second. It seemed like forever. I still don’t know which bus she rode, but she materialized in the blink of an eye with her arms around us. I guess she spotted us from her elevated perch in the bus and knew exactly where to go. We met a number of people who will forever be important in her military memory. I managed to hand off the phones to the correct people and then we headed back to the baggage pile for one last item. Returning to the car, Angie called her mother and then we headed to Arby’s for a late lunch.

September 19, 2007

Deployment Day 242

Life was back to “deployment normal” for one more day. Monday and Tuesday were a whirlwind of boredom, activity, sleeplessness and emotion. After retrieving Angie from the swarm of service members, family, and friends, we got to spend about eleven hours as a family. In that time we managed a walk on Onslow Beach, a steak dinner, and sorted through three bags of gear. I feel bad for the Comfort Inn housekeeper who cleaned the room after Angie dumped the sea bags onto the floor, sand, dust and all. If you’ve never packed or unpacked a sea bag, dumping the entire contents is the only way to really find out what’s inside.

We made The Kid crawl into bed at 2200, while Angie and I talked and sorted gear into “stays” and “goes” piles until midnight. In her typical style, she had every piece of USMC issued gear, right down to the “pouch, grenade, two each.” At 0415 I rolled out of bed and got The Kid and our stuff in the car. We had to leave Angie one more time. The Kid slept for most of the four hour ride. While driving, my mind tried to work out if the last day had been some kind of twisted dream. We made it back to Chesapeake in time to drop Brendan at school, and I went home to change for work. Before heading out the door, I got a call that the flight was cancelled. I don’t know if it was Tammy the scheduler, Wayne the customer, or divine intervention, but thank you. I didn’t feel much like flying with my emotions still in a blender set on puree.

At Camp Lejeune, Angie finished out-processing and had one more night before the bus would bring them back to Naval Medical Center Portsmouth. Brendan and I did our routine stuff, including a visit to the orthodontist before the Thursday afternoon festivities. Hopefully the weird dream we’ve been living will end when Angie walks through the door.

September 20, 2007

Day 5328

Angie is really home. In fact, she is standing right next to me as I type this. The reunion at NMCP was not as emotional as the last one, but definitely more fun. My brother and his wife drove down from D.C. and we all mobbed Angie at the entrance to the hospital. After lunch, we sent our company back to D.C. and we went home. For the rest of the day, we tried to act like normal people. Even though Angie is home, we hope you will keep supporting and praying for our service men and women in dangerous places.

Postscript

In the six months the Surgical Company was deployed, about 400 US military personnel perished while serving in Iraq. Some of them were carried through the doors of TQ Surgical, where the doctors, nurses, and corpsman tried their best to make sure made it home. Unfortunately, it just wasn’t possible to save everybody. The wounds were too great, or time was too short.

Pray for the souls of our war dead. Pray for the families who never got a joyful reunion.