SHOCK AND "AW HELL"

Wow...a lot has happened in the last 24 hours...I want to try to catch you up with where we are now.

Yesterday was a tidal wave. It was large, fast, caused an immense amount of disruption...and resulted in a lot of stunned, hurt and angry people.

You see...most of the folks in our community had not even imagined this turn of events was possible. The post here is covered with yellow ribbons and signs announcing "Welcome Home Axe Men" and such. So...while I had my suspicions confirmed and my disappointment unleashed on Wednesday night, there were less than 100 of us affected on that day (those of us expecting our loved ones to return with the ADVON).

Thursday morning when I arrived at work, rumors were circulating...but not being given credence. As the morning drew on word came from our Brigade HQ.

Shock, anger and tears followed.

At the end of our biweekly staff meeting our director asked us all to hold hands and she led us in prayer. There were perhaps 25 in that meeting...more than half of which have a wife or husband in Iraq. We cried together...we hugged one another. And, as I alluded to just below, it felt a lot like the night they left.

And to me, I had this feeling I had seen this all before.

Not much work got done yesterday. Staffers who are mothers left work to go explain their kids (who are out of school for spring break) that Daddy isn't coming home in two weeks as they had been counting on. Those of us who stayed in the office alternated between fits of tears, hugs and rereading the text of the message released by the HQ...looking for loopholes, something they could grasp on to so they didn't have to believe it is true.

A coworker got off the phone, steamed. She said the caller, a friend of hers, had reminded her of GEN Shinseki's warning to beware of a 12 Division strategy with a 10 Division Army.

Early in the afternoon I received a call from my Rear Detachment...the sergeant read the text of the HQs message to me over the phone. I explained before he began that I had my own copy of it (as a result of working in my particular office). "Yes sir," he explained, "but my orders are to read it to every family member, word for word." So I let him. He then told me he was packing his bags...he had returned three weeks ago to fill a requirement in the rear...but he'd be going back. He didn't complain and I sensed he felt that if the others in his unit were going to stay then it is only right that he should be with them.

A town hall meeting for all the family members was hastily organized by the rear detachment commanders. There was a traffic jam at the gate to the Depot where the meeting was held. Hundreds of people, mostly wives, filled the room. An Army Reserve Chaplain opened the meeting with a prayer that the Lord would soothe the anger in each of us. (Side note: Notice that twice on this day large groups on a Government Installation openly prayed to God. Several hundred people felt better for it...that is the America I Live In).

We were briefed on the points laid out in the HQ's memo. Babies cried, so did moms. There were more hugs and pats in that room than at a high school dance.

And then came the question and answer session. The first few questions were mostly practical - inquiring whether new orders will be published for all soldiers, or enrolling kids in the2004/5 school year as it appears kids who thought they were leaving this summer will start next school year here.

After a handful of such questions, predictably, the unanswerable questions ensued. Most of these questions begin with "Why". Why our guys? Why not somebody else? Why didn't they see this coming...questions that convey the askers anger more than a coherent inquiry. When the questions were hurled at the speakers from sorrowful, angry wives...often many in the audience would applaud.

Venting. Predictable, normal...but uncomfortable for the couple of Captains and the Sergeant facing an angry crowd.

I left. I'm told there was quite a crowd at the bar at the restaurant in the same building following the town hall meeting.

CPT Patti and I got the chance to "chat" via Instant Messenger again. She told me she had a good cry on Wednesday night...but was comforted by her roommate, another Officer whom CPT Patti describes as a "sweet and loving girl".

CPT Patti says the soldiers are just in shock...but planning has already begun to do what they are being asked to do.

As we typed our notes back and forth...the conversation focused on the need to put this setback behind us. Preparing for the future is more productive at this stage than dwelling on the uncontrollable.

I adopted a tone perhaps a bit more upbeat than I was really feeling...and we turned our view toward tomorrow. "I'm doing pretty well", I said, "But I'm concerned for the house plants...I think they were just hanging on until you get home." She laughed...and told me so.

"Now...how can I help you?" I asked.

Well, because she had packed up to come home, she had divested herself of all of the comfort items she had accumulated over the past year. We made a shopping list. And after innumerable assurances that we're still rather fond of one another, she signed off...and I went shopping.

Beef jerky, Gatorade powder, hard candy...new Army brown t-shirts, Neosporin, lotion, underwear, vitamins, shampoo, a new toothbrush, sunblock...

You see...there are three things I can do to make life better for the Sweetest Woman on the Planet. I can pray for her...I can shop for her...and I can exchange messages between her and those who love and support her. I was already doing A and C...but B was eliminated when the mailing cutoff date passed in March. So I'm back to doing all that I can do for her. And that is good therapy for me.

As my father taught me when I was 19..."Worry is a poor substitute for work."

Amen, Dad

Change comes fast, often and at the worst possible time in the Army. I've lived that for over 24 years now. As a result I believe I've learned to pass through the five stages of grieving in a hurry when such is required.

This time it is required.

Do I hurt? Yes...hugely. But you know what...I'm not the one in a war zone. Hosting my own pity party does her no good whatsoever...and I am choosing to consider that this change in plans...well, this change in plans isn't about me. It's about her.

I have three boxes to mail to her today. Each packed with love disguised as sunflower seeds and sugarless gum.

And that is the best that I can do.