The Departure
The sun, reflecting off the snow, was making it impossible for me to keep my eyes open. This was a long day for traveling, especially to Rapid City, and I knew it was coming. I was not prepared. It was the last day that I would see her for about a year. It was her first time, but she was ready for it, prepared and trained for what was to come.
I had my blanket wrapped around my body and a pillow behind my back resting up against the door of the car. My father is driving, my mother in the passenger seat, and my brother in the passenger rear seat right across from me. I tried to be the one who would fall asleep, but for me that was impossible. The only thing I could do was grab a snack and wait till we arrived to the place of where I didn’t want to go. As we traveled three quarters across the state, we had seen historical landmarks, wild animals, cows,
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and passed areas with the smell of fresh pig poop. Distracted by the objects far away from the interstate, the last thing I knew we were there. The place I dreaded, and what most families thought of something that they would never have to go through, is where she was at. The buses were running and had the warm air on. All the families entered into an old school, following a trail into the gym where our moms, fathers, sons, and daughters were lined up taking orders from their sergeant and getting ready to depart from their state, in which they call home. The formation was two squares facing the opposite direction of all the families. Every person, in the entire gym, was full of cameras, and bright flashes with little kids in their mother’s or father’s arms pointing at their parents with wide smiles and giggly laughs. I could see the sadness in her body language from not wanting to leave for this long. The ceremony was over and it was time for her and the rest of the platoon to leave. Their bags were thrown into two giant transportation trucks, the bags nearly overflowing. We said our goodbyes with solid hugs, and for wives and husbands, kisses. She took one last look at us before she left, the bus went into gear and she was gone. First she arrived in Texas, the longhorn state, and stayed there for almost two months. It took her over three days before she arrived overseas. The housing was in a storage pod, with two sets of bunk beds, and her battle buddy settling in across from her. It had taken her time before she could Skype my mother and I without completely sobbing. In order to keep us busy we would send her care boxes with snacks and microwavable meals, so she wouldn’t have to eat the MRE’s. She described them as prepackaged fake food. I had written to her a few times, but it would be days before she would receive them. Before I knew it, she was ready to Skype me for the first time since she left. Within the first five minutes we were both in tears and it wasn’t long before she was ready to hang up. She explained to me what her duties were. She would stand by a cell and guard the prisoners of the prison. While doing so, she would teach the main guards of the prison some English. “It was difficult”, she said, but they soon got the hang of it. She constantly heard yelling from the prisoners, even though not knowing what they were saying, she ignored them. The days past, one by one, and I was counting down the days for her to come home. I would make an “X” each day on the calendar, wondering which one would be my last. There were rumors between parents of the specific date. When I heard this story, me being me, I got my hopes up. It was near Christmas Eve. The houses, which were decorated with lights, brightened the sky, and Christmas trees glowed the windows. My family had received a message on our land line from her sergeant saying when and where she was finally coming home.
It was a late announcement, and everyone was appalled. We had excitement running through our bodies. We were on our way to see her again, finally, after 300 long …show more content…
days. The journey there was the as same as the first time but more exciting.
It was the day before Christmas Eve and normal families would be wrapping last minute presents, but we were not. It was the same type of weather, cold and with the reflection from the sun to the snow. At last, the car stopped and was put in park. There was a ceremony for the soldiers where the governor, and other important people I don’t know the name of, were. It was about two hours later when I got to hug her, and tears dripped from my eyes like raindrops coming down from the clouds. You will never know if they will come back home once they leave for that certain purpose. You will never know when you gave them the last hug before they left, will be their last. Luckily for her, my sister, and the rest of her unit, they all came back safe and
sound. When we arrived home and it was time to go to sleep, she had left her reading lamp on. Paranoia, it was obvious. She told me she could hear the sounds of bombs and airplanes flying nearby that had awaken her throughout the night. But to me, I was just happy that she was home, safe and sound.
It was August 8th of 2013 when my dad got a call from my Aunt Theresa. She urged him to come over to her house because she had devastating news. The car ride to her house was quiet. The weather was gloomy, the sky was filled with dark cumulus clouds.When we pulled up to my Aunt’s house, the adults were organized into a small circle. My uncles were supporting my grandma, however, I thought nothing of it. My parents had told me to go inside because they had a matter to attend to. I went inside to hang out with my cousins. I saw them a couple days before, but the feeling of happiness never subsides when I see them.
The air was warm, the beams of sunlight shined on my skin, and the sweet laughter of my daughter came as she ran about. I could hear the bark of the neighbor’s dog in the distance, the scraping sound of a jogger's sneakers on the gravel sidewalk and I could smell the sweet aroma of the ripening peaches coming from the tree in our backyard. It was a brilliant summer day just like any other. My husband, Matthew, pulled in. Our daughter ran to him as he walked up the drive, “Daddy, Daddy,” she shouted as she wrapped her arms around him, embracing him with love. My husband sat beside me and began to speak. My heart began to beat slowly and erratically at first, my eyes began to burn in their sockets and a lump rose in my throat. The hair on my arms stood on end as my eyes began to fill with tears. “I got orders babe, I’m going to be shipped out in eight days.” These words my husband spoke would be the begging of a whole new life, a whole new fear. This day my life changed forever. On this day I learned my husband was going to be deployed.
At eight years old, I realized the danger my dad was facing shortly after he was first deployed. I was terrified for my father, crying myself to sleep for months and only slept on his side of the bed the entire deployment. Although, I’m older and have experienced three deployments with my family, the subject of deployment is still very sensitive. Deployment is a vulnerable period in the family and the soldier, there were times where I knew nothing of my father, and we’d constantly checked the lists of soldiers killed in
We all hugged one last time before jumping I could not believe that this would be the last time I would ever see my family. Dominique and I went to the edge of the Freight car and we counted down, “1...2...3!” As we jumped the only thing I could hear was the shot of a rifle and a short cry from Dominique. Once I got up from the frigid snow I looked to my left and saw the dead corpse of my brother Dominique. I broke down crying
My uncle is about to be deployed back into the Middle East, and while I know it is his job, I am afraid. I am afraid for what all the troops deployed around the world face. While, I choose to believe that most will return in one piece, no one really knows how hard it is to survive being a soldier. The mental and physical hardships faced by soldiers worldwide are unimaginable. The bombing of Syria, and the terrorist attacks today makes this world, a very dangerous time indeed. Even though, we may think life is tough, being a soldier is just as challenging. As a result I wanted to share this eye-opening poem as a way to show my gratitude and to spread awareness. Because, American veterans and active soldiers today have faced excruciating obstacles for our freedom and yet those who do get hurt are not helped. I personally would be livid if my uncle or my father did not get the help they deserve for serving our country and us. The freedom that America has is because of its soldiers and this poem expresses a side of war that I hold to be important to understand and to share.“Where Broken Soldiers Go” is a saddening poem about a man recounting his military
Standing on the balcony, I gazed at the darkened and starry sky above. Silence surrounded me as I took a glimpse at the deserted park before me. Memories bombarded my mind. As a young girl, the park was my favourite place to go. One cold winter’s night just like tonight as I looked upon the dark sky, I had decided to go for a walk. Wrapped up in my elegant scarlet red winter coat with gleaming black buttons descending down the front keeping away the winter chill. Wearing thick leggings as black as coal, leather boots lined with fur which kept my feet cozy.
I am jarred out of a relaxing sleep by a voice yelling my name in a loud whisper, and a light burning through my eyelids. Groggily, I open my eyes to see my father standing in the doorway to my messy room. He tells me that I need to get going, that it is 3:00 a.m., and I'm burning daylight. I find my clothes and get dressed. The whole time I wonder why I get up this early to visit the rugged outdoors. I want to go back to bed, but I know my dad will be back in to make sure I am getting ready, in a little bit. Instead, I put my boots and my wide-brimmed, black cowboy hat on, and walked out to catch the horses. The horses are all excited because it is dark and they are not that cooperative. My dad and I get them saddled and in the trailer, and go back into the house to get our lunch, water, and a cup of coffee. Now, we can head for the high country.
The car was hot and stuffy when I slipped back into the driver's seat. I found the most depressing music I owned and drove out of Glenwood as the sun started to set. Two more hours until I was home, two more hours of thinking what a terrible day I had gone through, and two more hours of cussing myself for being so naïve. The drive was a long one.
I went to my room and sat there, unable to fall asleep. I still remember my window being half way open and hearing the wind chimes as the summer breeze rolled through the porch. I must have sat there for about fifteen minutes, but in my young mind I convinced myself that I had been there for hours. I walked outside with the anticipation of reeling in a large mouth bass on the edge of the pond. I walked up behind my dad and told the most common white lie in a young child’s life “I’m done with my nap”.
Soon morning came, Jean woke me with a cup of coffee and a plan on where we were going start. We began on a trail straight off from her house. It was a cold and drowsy day, but I didn’t care. I wanted to get home as soon as
We had just stepped off the ferry and were waiting for the rest of our things to be put in the truck. We were finally here. A small island just off the coast of Oregon. My stepdad had received a job offer here as a marketing manager of some small company, which meant we had to move...again. This move broke the record of how many times we moved in a year.
After a quick breakfast, I pulled some of my gear together and headed out. The car ride of two hours seemed only a few moments as I struggled to reinstate order in my chaotic consciousness and focus my mind on the day before me. My thoughts drifted to the indistinct shadows of my memory.
Reflecting on it now I can see that my mother was a true soldier to go through all of the pain that she had to feel, but when she came home put a smile on her face to make sure that her children were still happy. The grace and dignity that she showed when she handled this demonstrated the true traits that she had, and the traits that she wanted us to grow up to have as well. She went through so much more to just minimize the pain that we were going to feel because she knew as such young children who looked up to their mother as a hero and an idol, that we would be in distraught if anything like this happened to her. The fear that she knew we would of had was going to be much greater than anything that we would have ever felt, and she didn’t want to scare us in this
It was a bright and warm summer morning when I woke from a good night sleep. Nothing prepared me for the dark, gloomy and sad day ahead of me. You see, this was the day that my cousin and childhood best friend passed away in an auto accident.
The car was quiet, quiet with fear radiating from all directions. We continued down the neverending highway as we got closer every second, to our home for the next nine days. The wheels turned followed with a jerk of my head. I found myself in a half circle on the edge of perpetual woods. My nerves becoming unbearable, I opened the door soon to smell the nature flow into the car.