Some soldiers have already been sent over, some are leaving tomorrow, others are leaving in the next few weeks. The last deployment will be next month. Once all is said and done, almost all soldiers will be gone from Baumholder. Only a couple hundred will be left to run things on base.
Knowing what these soldiers will be doing during the next year made me feel sad. It made me feel guilty that I was taking up a spot in line to mail a little box to Muncie, IN full of German chocolate and a toy. These soldiers were sending most all of their belongings home.
I can't even imagine what has been going through these soldiers' heads knowing they are being deployed to Afghanistan for an entire year. I kept wondering what they were thinking standing there in the Post Office line.
I overheard the soldier two places in line behind me talking to his wife. Their one-year-old son was babbling and being adorable. He told his wife, "You're going to have to record his conversations and send them to me." Then he reached for his son, pulled him to him, and kissed him on the cheek saying, "You'll be two years old when I get home! Wow.. two years old." It made me sad.
Seeing the deployment on base is sad, but it's let me see another side of the military we don't see at home. Knowing how many soldiers will be going to such an unsafe place is hard to think about. They will be facing great dangers, both physically and mentally. It's hard to comprehend, really. Selfishly, it makes me glad I don't know anyone who is going overseas.
Seeing these soldiers mailing their belongings home, seeing a soldier yesterday sign up to put his car in storage for a year, seeing base become more empty, seeing students have a tough time because Mom or Dad is gone or is leaving very soon... the effects are everywhere.
I've known someone who went overseas; I grew up with him in a sense. Fifteen years old when we started dating off and on. Nineteen years old when it ended. I saw how being sent to Iraq and Afghanistan affected him. He was almost a different person. No one knows why, but he took his own life while he was home on leave from Afghanistan. Personally, I think he had PTSD. I think what he experienced overseas was too much for him. He was such a loving, caring person. He pretended to be tough, but he was really a softie.
Losing him is the hardest thing I have ever dealt with. It was the first death I've ever had to deal with. It was a rough year, especially those first few months. The month and a half leading up to the one year anniversary this past fall was equally hard, too. I lived in a daze those first couple months after his death, going through the school and work routine like a robot.
At the time, my roommate was amazing. She did everything around the house because I could barely do more than basic life functions. And she was there for me when I would blurt out thoughts about him or what I was feeling. She never knew what to say in response because she couldn't understand what I was going through, but she was there to listen and that's all that mattered. She helped my grieving process and I don't know if she realizes what she did for me.
And now, almost 16 months later, I still miss him. I'm still mad at him. I still love him. It's like an emotional rollercoaster dealing with this. The different emotions just come more spaced out now and last for a longer amount of time, rather than feeling all emotions at the same time or having the different emotions change more often. Time has helped heal this and will continue to do so, I'm sure. But all I can do is keep remembering him and carrying his heart in my heart, like the E.E. Cummings poem.
I hope these soldiers turn out better than him, but I know some of them are going to have major problems when they come home. And it makes me sad.
These were taken my freshman year of college. The first from October 2007 in Columbus, IN; the second from February 2008 in my dorm.
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