An Unusual Homecoming

I had been at many a homecoming, but this one was different.  I wasn’t used to being a “civilian” standing on the shore, watching the ships come in, but that’s what today was.  I was on the shores of Fernadina Beach, just that.  I could see the signs across the St. John’s River, welcoming daddys, husbands, brothers, sons, home, but I wasn’t one of them.

I looked up at my dad, who stood tall and proud.  I can’t remember a time when my dad slouched when he stood (unless he was leaning on something).  He was always at attention.  As we had walked down to the river’s edge, many people stopped Dad because he had a USS Enterprise command cap on.  They talked to him about it.  “Tell your son ‘Thank you!’ for serving our nation.” 

One man noticed a small little ribbon pin on the cap and asked about it.  “I was in ‘Nam.” Dad said.  Even though I had known that fact, it still floored me to hear him say it.  It wasn’t spoken of in our house, but we all knew.

That man shook my dad’s hand and thanked him.  “Sorry we didn’t give you the proper homecoming the way we’s giving these men.”  There were a few others around that followed suit.  Until that moment, I had only seen my dad cry once and that was when we left a church.  He didn’t cry when Uncle Leonard or Great Gramma Borton died. 

But, now?  Gentle tears rolled down his face. I wasn’t sure what those tears meant.  But, I knew that he moved by something. And I felt my own tears form. 

As we made our way through the thankful crowd, cheering my dad as he walked, I saw no less than 50 American flags blowing.  Chants of “USA! USA!” filled my ears and my dad was shaking hand after hand, trying to not take away from the boys coming home.

A cheer to our right made us look.  There she was.  The gray aft of the USS Saratoga.  She was home.  And all I could think of was Jennifer and her family on the opposite shore, waving there banners, and wiping the grateful tears.

It would be later, in talking with Jennifer, that I found out that her dad faced where the civilians were.

As the Toga got closer, cheers grew louder and somewhere, a small voice started singing “God Bless America.”  Little by little every voice on that beach sang those words.

There was pride and patriotism on that beach.  Flags waved.

Jennifer told me that her father, and those men on the starboard side of the ship, had come off, wiping their eyes.  They had heard the cheers…the singing…and read the signs.  They were moved that people who didn’t know them personally would welcome them with all the love of a family.

Most of them had been in Vietnam and, like my dad, never received a homecoming like this.

Over 20 years later and this day still brings tears of pride.  I will never forget that die, no matter how old I get.

Just Random BRAT Thoughts...

I am one of them.

I am one of those BRATs who were AGAINST the REBRANDING of the BRATs name.  I will make no apologies for it either.

However, I will say this:

It has been played out like an old overly dramatic soap opera.  People will only take one side and not listen to the other.

Here was MY issue with the CHAMPs: As a BRAT, I AM NOT ENTITLED to be called a hero because my dad CHOSE to serve.  That was my one issue.  I was all for the babysitting portion, even though there was this sense of "How did they EVER manage to do this WITHOUT US?" feel to it.

I NEVER opposed the baby sitting.

I opposed making our military children feel like they are damaged because of the life they were born into.  There are children in the civilian world who will be FAR more "damaged" than military BRATs.

While I didn't like the parts of the book I read, which made it seem as though military children were weak and wimpy, I wouldn't have minded if the Finks had written a book on how civilians see the military life and then work with us to bridge whatever gap was there.

Instead, there was only a greater chasm created.

By BOTH BRATs and Finks.

Every attempt was made by 99% of BRATs to have a civil conversation about it and every attempt was met with blocking; nasty replies/emails; and a refusal to admit they had made a mistake...an honest one, I'm sure...but a mistake anyhow.

And there was that 1% of BRATs who were nasty back.

I'm sure that I may have allowed my feelings to guide some of my responses, and those are things I regret.  If I did, I am truly sorry.

I don't want to cut them a break, but I do believe in second chances.  If they want to help out, I'm okay with that.  While we all know that our military families will be fine, a little outside help isn't turned away.

But, what happens when the "novelty" of this wears off?  When we are no longer "at war"?

Civilians only wish to understand the military when we are at war, and even then, they don't make attempts to fully understand.  They only support the military when it's PC to do so.

That's the issue.  If the Finks/Operation CHAMPs really want to help, they would not have bailed on BRATs at the first sign of opposition.  That makes it seem as though it was about money, which, in the end, it's always all about.

If they CHOOSE to engage with ALL BRATs, not just those who are ages 5-12, I know 99% of all BRATs would be WILLING to help.  I know I would.

Just reach out and we'll reach back.  THAT'S how you "bridge the chasm".

Why Being A BRAT Means So Much To Me

Like most BRATs, I was given a challenge to write about WHY the moniker BRAT is so important to me.  I had several blogs in my head, all of which explained it perfectly, but, per usual, when I sat down to actually type why BRAT is so important to me, they vanished.

BRAT is not just a moniker.  It is WHO I am.  Like everything else in the military, it is NOT a word; it’s an ACRONYM!  While it varies on who you talk to, the consensus is that it stands for Bold, Resilient, Adaptable, Tough…all qualities BRATs past, present, and future have.

BRAT is community.  I told of a story from when I was a senior in high school.  Despite all the close friends Jennifer had, she reached out to me when she needed a fellow BRAT to talk to because I was the only one who would and could possibly understand.

We don’t always have to know each other or even like each other, but like we were taught, we always have the 6 of other BRATs, even if they are the last person on earth we want to be friends with.

Why?

Because we’re a “family”.  The BRATs of the Korean War knew what I endured as a BRAT in the 70s and 80s, even it times and technology were different.  BRATs who remember their dads being in VietNam (My dad fought in ‘Nam, but was home safe by the time I was born….) knew exactly how Jennifer felt (and the however thousands of BRATs felt) during Gulf 1.  And those of us who are Gulf 1 BRATs know exactly what Gulf 2 and Afghanistan BRATs are going through.

There isn’t a place on the path of BRATs that is completely un-understandable by any BRAT, from any generation.

Sure, today’s generation of BRATs don’t understand what the phrase “Undetermined Deployment” means and they have SKYPE and the internet to make it easier to talk to and see Mommy or Daddy (in some cases both). 

But that certainly doesn’t mean they have it easy either.

So, you ask yourself (or me, really) “What does that have to do with what BRAT means to you?”

EVERYTHING!

I am a force to be reckoned with (so I’ve been told) because when I want something (which honestly, isn’t very often) I don’t stop until it’s mine.  I have opinions and am unafraid to speak them, but with that comes the training mindset of “Win the battle, lose the war or lose the battle and win the war.”  I know when to speak up and when not to.

I am emotionally strong because I was taught at a very young age that life isn’t fair.  I can either let circumstances destroy me or I could get up, get over, and get on, defeating every challenge that comes my way.

It has taught me discipline. It has taught me work ethic.  It has taught me that it is better to be too early than even a half second late.

It has taught me to be tough.  When I was going through a divorce, my hero was dying of colon cancer at the same time. Both of those are HUGE life changers. Sure, I had my quiet moments of “THIS ISN’T FAIR!”, but I still got on with my life, refusing to let the man who raised me to be BRAVE see me as anything less than.

During this time, my mom told me that I was her rock during this time (My brother was still serving in the Navy) and she was going to heavily rely on me.  Everything that being raised a BRAT taught me, in this three month period, broke loose.

I never grieved my dad’s death.  I shed tears alone for him, but never really grieved him.

His having been in the Navy for 26 years and how many deployments allowed my mom and I to thoroughly take in his loss.  It was, for the first year, a deployment.  When the date came when he was “scheduled to return home” and he didn’t, that’s when my years of BRAT training helped my mom.

Being a BRAT isn’t being a dependent.  It’s not just going where the military sends your sponsor.  It’s more…MUCH MORE…than that.

It teaches us about life and death.  It helps us obtain the skills that we will need in order to survive in this war of life.  We don’t need to be coddled.  We don’t need to be understood.  We just need to be us…to be what we have always been…without choice…Military BRATs.

We possess traits that few, if any, civilians have.  We have the traits that I heard many civilian parent wish their child had.  We didn’t whine or cry over not getting our way without hearing the “lecture”.  When it was time to move, we bucked up and did it.  Sure, we cried.  We were leaving a life that we loved…but we always knew that a new life we would love was just around the bend.

I was told by my boss that I am respected at work and that I’m given so much responsibility because I can handle it.

That’s why being a BRAT is important to me.

BRAT Understanding

I can still remember that day as though it just happened.

It happened just at the start of Gulf War I.  Jennifer and I weren't friends.  To call us acquaintances was even pushing the envelope.  We had one class together and attended the same church, but that was it.  Nothing more.

I passed her at lunch one day and she was crying.  While I was sympathetic to her tears, I wasn't going to ask her what the matter was.  After all, she had friends for that.

I suddenly felt her grab my arm.  To say I was surprised would be the biggest understatement I have ever used.  "I need to talk to you."

"Why"

"You're the ONLY one who can possibly understand."

Jennifer and I both had fathers in the Navy.  Her dad was on sea duty while my dad, who was close to retirement, was on shore duty.  Our dads knew each other and to call them friends?  Yeah.  I guess you could. 

Jennifer knew this.  We sat down on the bench.  She wiped her eyes and looked at me, tears still flowing.  "We talked to Daddy last night."  *Hiccup cry* "The Sara is on deployment until further notice.  He won't be home for a long time."

I had known the Saratoga was deployed in the Gulf.  My brother's ship, the USS Enterprise, was scheduled for dry dock and they were put on alert for deployment until word came that the Sara was already in the Gulf so no need for further support.

I didn't know what to say.  What could I say?  My dad was home, safe and sound.  While he was prepared to fight if called, he was at base, sitting at his desk (or whatever Torpedomen do) and safe.

All I could think of was to hug her.  Tears started forming in my eyes. I didn't know how to comfort her.  I must have provided some comfort because she thanked me.  I also told her that if she wanted to call and talk, she could.  It was up to her.  Remember, we weren't friends.

Flash forward a few months:  Daddy and I are standing amidst civilians (I am sure there were other military, but don't quote me!) on Fernedina Beach.  The USS Saratoga and her fleet are heading back. 

The 100 day war is over.  Cheers are flowing.  Chants of USA! USA! are echoing across the river.  (I'll write more on this day in a separate entry).

At church, Jennifer pulls me aside and again says Thanks!  Even though she never called, she tells me that she couldn't have made it through without knowing that someone who understood her plight was right there, praying, and quietly supporting her.

While I don't know where she's at...and even her name...Jennifer isn't her real name (I think)...I still think of the bond that BRATs share simply because of the families we are born into.

And, in the end, we have created our own family.

The Unseen War

Every step I take in this world
I still feel I am all alone
And though I know where I am,
I don't recognize my home.

With every twist and every turn
I am unable to know this place
I cannot distinguish who I am
And I'm unable to remember my face.

I've done things of which I'm not proud
I did what I needed to do to survive
But while others are buried in the ground
I'm still here - healthy and alive.

But alive just doesn't feel quite right
And for me it's nothing but a word
And while others carry on day to day,
I'm stuck fighting an unseen war.

Though I'm in the present
I'm still always in the past
Trying to navigate a landscape
Of wilderness that is vast.

A sight...a sound...a smell...a touch
Anyone can instantly bring me back
To the war I fought so long ago
That was both furious and fast.

Every night I continue to fight
The battle over and over in my head
And every morning, covered in sweat
I struggle to climb out of bed.

I know you're judging me
Tell me how much I've changed
And I quietly ask if you believe
Fighting a war keeps one the same.

I've seen things that you haven't
I have done things you never will.
I have been in the situation
Where it was kill or be killed.

For better or for worse,
War always changes a man.
And there's nothing that I've been through
That you will understand.

Am I who I was before I left?
No. That person has longed passed away.
But, I'd barely changed what I endured
For it helped make me who I am today.

You're A Dandelion...

I wrote this because I had a dream where I was starring wtih Taylor Kitsch (just finished watching "Lone Survivor") and this was the "speech I gave my "son".  Please let me know what ya'll think! :)  Some of the speech is from an actual speech my mom gave me when we left Illinois and I didn't want to go.  I hope you all like and will comment...negative, positive, and everything in between!

TJ Allens sat alone on the bench at his favorite park, thinking.  His dad had just gotten orders and it was just before TJ was due to start high school.  He watched the other kids around him, playing and laughing as though nothing was changing.  That life, as he had known it, wasn’t being turned upside down.  He sighed as he saw his mom walking over to him.  He turned his music up a little louder in a poor attempt to discourage his mother from talking to him.

Harper Allens sat next to her son, holding a couple dandelions.  She plucked the earbuds out of his ears.  When he sighed heavily, she ignored it.  “Thought I’d find you here.  This is your favorite place to think about things.”

“Well,” TJ snapped back.  “I won’t ever get to get to come back here again, so may as well enjoy it while I can.”  He huffed as he stood up, but felt his mom grab his arm.  “WHAT?”

“I’m still your mother and you will still respect me.” Her tone, while calm, was demanding.

“Whatever.” He sat back down and put the ear buds back in and turned his music up.

Harper once again pulled the earbuds out, ignoring her son’s attitude and focused in on the dandelions in her hand.  “Dandelions are amazing, aren’t they?”

“Mom, I’m really not in the mood for a botanical lesson.”  He pleaded.

But, Harper continued on.  “They are stubborn.  They float on the breeze until they find a suitable place to put down roots.  And put down roots they do!  They will neither the submissive nor the dominant plant be, but they will thrive, side by side, in their surroundings.  The grass does not know the dandelion is there for it still receives its fair share of nutrients.  The dandelion lives in harmony – ”

“You said that –“

“—with all the other plants around it.”  She twirled the dandelions around gently in her hand.  “Once it places roots down, the dandelion thrives.  The roots that it puts down are so deep that they will, even once pulled, be hard to remove.  The dandelion roots will always be there.  People don’t even realize the dandelions have come until it is time for them to be plucked and wishes made, sending the seeds once again into the wind. Remember that even though the dandelion is no longer attached to its roots, its roots are still there, just waiting to welcome home another dandelion.  No one ever sees a dandelion blossom.  One day you look and there it is!”  She smiled. 

“Some see it as a beautiful floral addition to their yards and keep them.  Others try to get rid of the cursed weed! But, they will never see it grow.  They flourish in every environment, from the cold of Iceland to the heat of Hawai’i.  They are strong and sturdy plants.”  She turned to her son and handed him the dandelion.  He took it from her out of sheer sympathy.  “That’s you.  You and your sister.  You’re dandelions.”

TJ stared at his mom and the dandelion.  “I don’t get it. How are Kaeleigh and I dandelions?”

“You’re the children of a United States Marine.  You go where the Corps sends him.  You don’t ask questions.  You just go.  Much like the seeds in the dandelion.  They don’t ask questions of the breeze.  They just float along, waiting for the breeze to deposit them where it will.  Military BRATs, like you and your sister, flourish in whatever environment the Corps sends us.  You put down roots and people don’t even notice you are even there until you’re ready to move. “

“What if the dandelion doesn’t want to move?” TJ sarcastically asked.

“The dandelion has no choice.  The breeze will blow its seeds.”  She brushed his hair back off his face.  “I know that this is tough on you.  But, remember, while you still have…” she glanced at her watch. “23 hours and 15 minutes left of your pity party, that you’re not the only one that this move is affecting.”

“Right.” TJ huffed.

Harper sighed. “I know that you don’t think anyone else in the family is as affected by this as you.  You’re a teen.  The world is only unfair to you.  But, did you ever stop and think about your dad?  Do you know how much this affects him?  He spends his time worried that he’s not going to be home to watch your football games.  What if the men he’s in charge of don’t like him?  What if he can’t make friends?  What if he gets deployed?  What if he’s injured and can no longer provide for us like he used to?

“And Kaeleigh?  She’s getting ready to start junior high.  She’s worried that she won’t make friends.  What if she’s bullied at school?  What if no one likes her?  And me?  What if I can’t be the wife of a Gunny?  What if I fail?  What if the other wives hate me because of my hair cut or my clothes?  I know you’re leaving friends, TJ, but so are the rest of us.  This move affects each and every one of us.”

TJ looked intently at his mom.  “Dad worries like that?”

“Every move. Moves are hard on this entire family.”  She took the dandelion and blew it and looked back at her son.  “I remember his first deployment.  He tucked you into bed the night before.  He asked you to make him a promise.  Before he even said what he wanted you to promise him, you did.  You didn’t care what it was.  You just wanted to do what Daddy asked you.  He asked you to be the man of the house and to be brave while he was gone.  And you did.  I remember when Tata and PaPa came for a visit and we were talking about cleaning the gutters.  PaPa said he’d have to hire a man to do it and you came in, all of 4 years old, and looked at him. You pointed your finger at him and said ‘PaPa, I’M the man of the house.  I clean the gutters.’  And that day, you and PaPa cleaned those gutters.  You took your promise to your daddy very seriously. 

“You weren’t given that responsibility just because you’re the boy in the family nor were you given it lightly.  You were given that task because your dad knew you’d fulfill it.  He had every confidence in you.  You proved yourself worthy of keeping your word to him.  He wouldn’t have asked if you had not been so brave as to take on such a task for such a young age.  He knew…somehow he just knew…you’d be Brave, Responsible, Adaptable, and Tough enough to take it on.  And he’s never stopped asking that of you and you have never stopped fulfilling that promise to your father.” She stopped and looked softly at her son.  “TJ, do you ever question why your dad calls you ‘Gunny Son’?”

“I thought it was because I was the son of a Gunny.”  He tried to hide his smile of amusement.

Harper smiled back at him..  “Nope.  You have all the traits of a Gunny.  You’re a natural leader.  People respond to you.  You’re strong.  You’re tough.  You’re brave.  You will always take the blame, but hand out the credit.  It’s never just about TJ.  It always has been about others.  You would be the one laying down your life to save the lives of others.  That’s who you are and your father and I see that.  We are relying on you to be the one to help Kae through this.  She looks up to you and will follow your lead.  You have a choice her, son.  You can lie down and let life beat you up, constantly crying how unfair it is or you can get up, get over, and get on with life, thumbing your nose at every challenge.  How you respond is how Kae will.  Everyone is looking to you to be the leader that you are, ‘Chesty’.”

“That my new nickname now?” He smiled.  He wasn’t sure about the move, but as he looked at the dandelion in his hand, he felt better.  As he watched his mom start walking away, he yelled “MOM!”

Harper turned back.  “Yes son?”

“Thank you!”

BRAT Life

I was once asked to describe my life as a BRAT.    I stumbled for words because, after all, how do you explain a life of constant upheaval to a civilian without making it seem as though you’re looking for a “pity party” or like your life was one big FUBAR’d SNAFU after another.  We all have stories of moving mishaps that will make civilians roar in fear or laughter.

Most of them don’t really understand what it’s like.  It took me a long time to formulate the words. After all, I’m really *not* a writer.  How do I make people understand what they can’t understand?  How can I get them to at least see what life was like behind the curtain; inside the fortress.

Oh, how I thought and thought until I could thought no more.

Then it hit me.  I’ll tell them what it was really like.  And so I did.

How do I explain my life as a BRAT to you?  I know that you want to understand…that you long to understand, but I also know that, because you have not lived it, you will not understand.

I will, however, give it my best shot to give you a glimpse, no matter how small, into what my BRAT life was like.

Imagine going to bed on a Sunday night, knowing the next morning, your hero will be gone for an undetermined amount of time. As Daddy is tucking you in bed, he softly kisses your forehead. 'I need you to be brave for Mommy while Daddy's gone. Mommy will need that from you. Can you do that?' You see tears threatening to fall from his eyes and feel them form in yours. You nod 'yes' and hug him tightly. You know it's not brave to cry, so you choke the tears back. Once Daddy closes the door and your room is dark, you let your tears quietly fall. The next morning, you see Mommy, her eyes red and puffy from saying goodbye to Daddy. You hug her, remembering your promise to Daddy the night before. Even though you're young, you cry your tears quietly in the dark, alone so you can continue to be Brave for Mommy.

During Daddy's deployment, you hear people say things about him. Though Mommy tries to shield you from it, you still hear it. You hear words like 'Murderer', 'Baby Killer', 'Brainwashed', and 'Unwanted'. You don't understand what they mean, but you know they're not nice. Mommy explains what they mean and tells you to ignore them. 'Not everyone loves Daddy like we do.' And you ignore the bad comments about your daddy because you're Resilient. Resiliency becomes your way of life.

Because when Daddy comes home, it’s a time of great joy and of sorrow because he has his orders. ‘In three months, we’re moving to a new place.’ You’re excited and apprehensive, but you know that you’re going to be fine because you’re Adaptable.  The school you just attended is out for the summer, but your new school, at Daddy’s new duty station, has one month left.  Even though you’re scared of the new school and of your new teachers, who are less than understanding, you face the challenge head on because you’re Brave, Resilient, and Adaptable.

The challenges that you face don’t bother you because you’re Tough.  Mommy and Daddy taught you to be.  Despite how scare you may feel, you get up, get over, and get on with life.  Why? Because your Bravery, Resiliency, Adaptability, and Toughness helps you to.

You carry your Bravery, Resiliency, Adaptability, and Toughness from duty station to duty station.  BRAT doesn’t just define you as a child; it comes to define you as an adult.  There is nothing that you can’t face; no challenge you won’t take on because you are a BRAT!

I now you still may not fully understand my life, but I hope this helps you understand why I cherish…love…and cling to BRAT!I

In the past few weeks, I have seen my “family”…my entire BRAT family finally stand up to make our voices heard.  We have spent our lives in the shadows, quietly supporting our parent (or parents).  We have implemented everything they have ever taught us about warfare to keep our sacred moniker.

Today’s BRATs face many challenges that the BRATs of yesteryear never faced, but they are not facing anything that we BRATs of yesterday have.  I know to the civilian population, that may not make any sense, but in the BRAT community, that makes perfect sense.

We know their story because we lived it.  We lived in a time where war was always just around the corner.  They live in a time where peace is always just around the corner.  They live in a time of ISIS threats.  We lived in a time of USSR threats.

And like generations of BRATs before them, today’s BRATs will face each and every challenge laid before them in the very typical BRATtitude of “COME AT ME, BRO!”

And they will win just because they fought!

BRAT ON!

I am a dandelion-
I go wherever the breeze takes me
And I flourish wherever it is that I land.
I am a dandelion-
You may not always see me in your midst
But you always know that I am there.
I am a dandelion-
Some see me as a beautiful flower
Others see me simply as a weed.
I am still a dandelion-
Just waiting for the very next breeze.