The Trip Here

It is 3:30 am on one of the last few days of 2005. The alarm goes off and after a night of intermittent sleeping, I feel the weight of what is about to happen. In less than an hour I will be leaving for no less than one year. I feel a sense of heat go through my entire body, you know - the same feeling you get when you are publicly embarrassed, this is immediately followed by an overwhelming feeling of guilt. Questions start to race through my head, "What am I doing?" "How will Margi handle the separation?" "How will I continue to be a part of the family while I am so far away?"

I get up and stumble into the bathroom, shower and prepare for the departure. Margi is being supportive, but obviously sad. We pass each other several times and do not say anything - we know that if we speak it will only bring tears. There is a quietness in the house that you will only experience this early in the morning. It is snowing lightly, it is cold and very dark. A slight breeze stings my face as I carry my bags outside and load them into the car. I know that with each bag that is loaded, I am that much closer to leaving.

It is now 0400 and time to tell the kids goodbye for at least a year. It is a feeling that is indescribable; the hurt of leaving them, the emotions that take every bit of energy to control and the fear of not coming back to see them through life. All this races through my mind as I lean over to kiss them. As I was began to lean over, CJ awoke and sat straight up in his bed, threw his arms around me and started crying. He asked me over and over, "Why do you have to go?" I try to answer, but my throat was so dry with a lump so large I could only mumble a few words. I then go into to see Brittany, I knew she was trying to be strong and hold back the tears. She gives me a big hug and quickly goes into CJ's room to comfort him.

It was time to go and I did not want to.

Margi and I get in to the car and drive very slowly down the snowy road. It is incredibly quite with the discussion being sparse and the topics limited to the separation. (This is the first time in my career that I will have been away from the family for a year. Previously, the longest separation was 6 months and that was difficult enough.) We arrive at the departure location, I get out, go around the car and greet Margi with a hug that I wish could last forever. I forget all about the cold air, the snow and can only focus on the tears traveling down her face. I want to tell her that everything will be okay, I hold her tight and am finally able to tell her that it will all be okay. I quietly ask her to drop me off and I state that it would be best for both of us for her to go back home and take care of the kids. It was a quick decision, but I just did not want the separation period to linger. I give her one final kiss and tell her I love her.

I miss her.

I pick up my bags, load them onto the bus and walked into the holding area located in the post gym. The gym is old, has a weathered yellow look, it is filled with other personnel preparing to deploy. The USO playing a strange mix of music which is muted by the crying in the background. There was an air about the place that is hard to describe. I sit with MAJ Lear and SFC Smith, we make small talk while we wait for our names to be called. While waiting, COL Miller, my boss, drops by to bid us farewell and wish us luck on our journey. I know it is surreal for her as she will be joining us there soon.

Finally, at 0645 a.m. an announcement comes across the speaker letting us know it was time. We stand up in groups and slowly shuffle through the exit of the gym and begin loading the busses. After a few minutes of sitting still and waiting for the last few people to finish loading, we begin the 2 hour trip to the airport.

Once we arrived at the airport we were pleased to see that we would be flying on a commercial plane instead of a loud and cold military aircraft flight. As we fill the cabin with military personnel and all their gear (including weapons) I quickly realize that it will be a tight fit. There are stewardess' helping us with our seating and she informs us that there will be two inflight movies. The trip was somewhat uneventful except for the overwhelming guilt I felt for leaving my wife and kids for such a long period. My eyes began to water and I could feel that uncomfortable ache in my throat. I had to visit the restroom to compose myself.

The plane lands at about 1100 p.m. and the doors open filling the cabin with an odd unfamiliar smell. It is cold and we are tired, it has been a long day and we want to go to sleep. Instead, we are ushered into a large tent used as a holding area. It has concrete floors, numerous benches made with 2 by 4's, it is about 40 degrees and cold. Centered in the front of the room is a t.v. with a small gaggle of people who are semi in-charge of our processing. We are there for several hours and trying different methods of staying warm. We walk, we jump, but nothing helps. We are anxious and reluctant while we wait to get to the next step of the journey. It seems to take days before the announcement that we would be leaving soon came at around 0530 a.m. Two hours later we depart on a military aircraft with seats that would barely hold a young child. We are crammed in with all our gear, including two weapons. We had a smooth landing and quickly exited the rear of the plane to bright Iraqi day. The sun is bright and the air is crisp, but the trip is not over yet. We have to gather our belongings and move onto armored busses nicknamed "rhinos". We drive down a very dusty, pot-hole covered road. We travel under a famous supply route and when the bus stops, we are so relieved that we are finally hear. It has taken over 30 hours by bus and plane to arrive at our final destination - Baghdad, Iraq.