Deployment

I have been in denial for some time. My son Taylor leaves for Afghanistan in a matter of days. I have known this time was coming for almost two years. In the summer of 2006 he called to tell me that he had decided to make a career change. He’d been building houses in Corpus Christi. At first he was working alongside a builder constructing ICF homes (insulated concrete form). Then he got an opportunity to be the general contractor on one himself. Then another. He was in business as a homebuilder by the time he was 24. But general contracting and building were two different experiences. No longer was it handling tools and materials and watching your work grow around you, which is a rewarding kind of thing. Now it was handling cell phones and subcontractors and watching the paperwork grow. Not so rewarding. So he was ready for a change.

“What are you thinking about doing?”

“I’m thinking about the military.” That did not surprise me so much. He’d spent a summer on the Corpus Christi beach as a lifeguard, working for the CC Fire Department. He’d said he enjoyed watching the work of the U. S. Coast Guard and that looked attractive. His wife, who’d been a beach lifeguard as well, also had thought about a Coast Guard enlistment.

“What branch?”

“The Army.” That did surprise me. But then I began to think about what I knew about the Army’s many opportunities for serving, thinking perhaps he had something in mind that would not be terribly dangerous.

“What do you want to do in the Army?”

“Infantry.” Surprise number two. But this was not a whim on his part. He’d done his research. Later conversations also revealed that he had his motivations and that this was serious to him. I arranged a conversation for him and his wife with a retired career officer and his wife. The research continued for a couple of weeks and then there was testing and enlistment and swearing in. Then in the fall of 2006 he was on his way to Ft. Benning, GA for Army Basic Training.

For three months we exchanged letters, something we’d never had reason to do before. He was 25, had a wife, a child, and a mortgage, putting him in a category of maturity significantly ahead of many of the other younger recruits. That showed up in a few of his letters. After his platoon had been “smoked” by his D.I. on one occasion because of someone’s not following orders, he wrote: “I don’t understand why people can’t just do what they are told.” I smiled and thought, “Right. Like you did when you were 18.”

In March 2007 we made the drive to Ft. Benning to see him graduate. I was so impressed with his discipline, his strength, and the way he refused to complain about any of it. On the way home I was reflecting on this and turned to Melinda and said, “I wish I was half as disciplined as Taylor.” Then I followed that statement with another: “I cannot believe those words ever came out of my mouth.”

Basic Training was followed by a fortunate assignment (for us) to Ft. Hood in Killeen, TX, only three hours from here. He was one of a few who earned their Expert Infantryman Badge and we got to drive up to see him receive it. He made a trip back to Ft. Benning to Army Ranger School as a Private First Class, an unusual opportunity. He did not get through the Land Navigation Test this time through, but he plans to return after deployment. There was a month with his battalion at the National Training Center in Ft. Irwin, CA. And three weeks at the Army Air Assault School in Ft. Campbell, KY. And lots of training at Ft. Hood.

As the spring of 2008 approached, the talk was about a deployment to Afghanistan. Now it is becoming reality. His unit (the 1-26 Infantry) held their casing of the colors ceremony last Tuesday. Flights of soldiers have already begun, transporting 3500 or so young men and women to this far away front. By mid July he’ll be on one of those flights, beginning a deployment of fifteen months away from wife and daughter and family.

So I have relied on denial on and off to get to this place. That’s not going to work so well now. To say I have mixed feelings is an understatement. I am understandably proud of what he has done, what he has accomplished, and of the man he has become. He is still my son and, despite my general feelings about war, I would gladly take up arms and join him if it meant an opportunity to protect him. Obviously I cannot do that. I have to trust him and his training and those officers who have command of his life.

And I have to trust God to see us all through these 500 days. I do believe in praying for him and his comrades. I do not believe that soldiers who are injured or die do so because no one was praying for them, however. This is not in my control.

I have become much more aware of the sacrifice made by every soldier, sailor, airman, and Marine who deploys to a hostile front. It is not just the danger, although it is clearly that. The sacrifice is the separation from people who are at the core of one’s life. And the sacrifice is for those people. For us.

I’m no politician. I have not been a great fan of all that has gone on in our wars in the past few years. I suspect we could have done better than we have done. But I know that the men and women serving in Afghanistan are up against the very organizations who planned and executed the attacks on 9/11 and that they would gladly do it again. In a very real sense our sons and daughters, husbands and wives, dads and moms in the military are dealing with them for us so that we don’t have to.

I am more of a pacifist than not. War is too often not turned to as the last resort. And too easily glorified. But I am also a realist that understands that in a fallen world like ours, we will always need law enforcement officers and soldiers to carry weapons and to protect those who cannot protect themselves. And I admire those to take on this task on our behalf. I have a sense of what it costs. I pray that this task in Afghanistan will soon be brought to a successful conclusion.