"Solders' Bond"

A young man is searching for the words to tell his parents that he has joined the United States Military, while a 35 year old man has rejoined the military during a time where Iraq is sure to be his destination. Committing to the military is a difficult decision in any person’s life. A young adult might have to explain to their friends why they would put their life in jeopardy for strangers in the name of Democracy which holds no independent alliance. Someone who is more tenured in life has to explain to his loved ones, who might include children, why they have chosen to miss their ballgames, dance recitals, or birthdays in the name of social obligation or a sense of belonging. An eighteen year old person joins the United States military for the same reason a thirty five year old person does; because of an overriding sense of responsibility, but both struggle to find comfort in their decision.

My father was drafted and was a career Air Force tail-gunner on a B-52 bomber who served in Vietnam. Birthday parties were held on the flight line in an effort to bond families associated with the flight crews. One might think that the flight crews would segregate themselves from other crews on the flight line due to social status, which simply did not occur. Each depended on the other to insure the planes were equipped and flight ready. All the fathers, regardless of specific duties were in their flight suits ready for the siren to prompt swift action to move to their respective planes. Being around the pilots and crews for most of my life was a gift of pride and patriotism which gave all of our families a sense of “Community.” All the flight crews and families found peace of mind spending time on the flight line, which was a contrast linked with being absent at any moment; but for awhile was their small community. My father didn’t really agree with reasons for being in Vietnam, but served all the people of America regardless of individual beliefs. He did talk about how they were not treated well by some Americans when they returned from Vietnam, but he never let that override his inherited social commitment for his community known as the Airforce and the United States of America even when he died due to a related illness from Vietnam.

I never really thought of joining the military because of the nomad life we had lived with my parents. Throughout my life, I have lived in approximately thirteen states and one foreign country. When ever someone would ask where home was located, the answer was always the same, “I am a military brat.” We would move approximately every three years to a new place, a new school, and new friends. Living on military bases throughout the United States gave all the military dependents a sense of unity, pride, and community. We were all in the same situation with parents who were always gone; some in places too secret to be known. The schools and military bases were a sense of security because everyone understood one another, even though there wasn’t much discussion about the topic. The community existed within each person and collectively regardless of heritage. Other students outside the military schools would sometimes call us names and treat us poorly because we were associated with the military, which only served to create more cohesion within the students.

I graduated in Upper Heyford High School in the country of England and flew back to my Stepfather’s home of record, Alabama, although I had no direct affiliation with that particular state. He was also in the United States Airforce because of a sense of job security. I asked him about joining the military and he gave me an answer I didn’t expect. He stated, “You will be joining one of the largest fraternities in the world.” Those words didn’t mean much to me at the time although; I later joined the Military Police Corps in the United States Army. I remember being bused with total strangers to basic training. The trip seemed endless and as I looked around on the bus everyone was eerily quiet and nervous with reservation and no acceptance. It appeared that every race, economic and social background was represented. There was no comfort or sense of harmony present during the trip. The next sixteen weeks were a blur of physical training, academics, and sleepless days and nights. Although everyone of us were individuals, over the course of basic training, unity became the word that bound us all together. Maybe this was to find security, comfort, or just survive, but lifetime friendships were formed. We arrived as individuals and left integrated as a platoon of Military Police Officers who could move as one, serve as one, and if needed; fight as one. Individuality was sparred for your time at home with family, yet even off duty the link was always present. Individuals didn’t change their backgrounds, but repositioned their social values from “I” to “us.”

I have since moved on to the civilian way of life with my family. We have settled in one place to call home and our children have just about all left for college now. The news from time to time headlines another soldier losing their life in a gun battle or roadside bomb. I was a part of the war common referred to as, “The one week war in Granada.” Many of my friends have since retired from the military they served. Although these men and women killed are total strangers to me, there is an overwhelming connection to all of them. In “Blaxicans” and Other Reinvented Americans, Richard Rodriguez ends his essay with, “I come to see you as Chinese” and “Unless you understand that I am Chinese, than you have not understood anything I have said” (124). Rodriguez in one form was speaking to community and security having no boundaries of ethnic origin because the lines are fluid and dynamic. The men and women of the United States Armed Forces, regardless of ethic origin or varied backgrounds, all joined the military for reasons that may not seem tangible. If you ask them why they joined, they all would probably state something similar to Rodriguez…because if you have to ask, you haven’t understood the meaning of “Community” in the United States Military. The soldiers serving our country are strangers, but every person who has experienced that bond has a distinct link to each other. All of the diversities in the military, the assorted jobs, basic training, and the different branches of the United States military all are just different houses in the same intangible neighborhood. My father, stepfather, and I all entered the military citing different individual reasons, but all agree that we found security, a sense of pride, and complete inner societal acceptance.

The 35 year old man spoken about in the beginning is my best friend. He re-joined the military because he also believes in what is right and just. He is one of the most compassionate and intelligent men I know and misses the community of the military. He is leaving for Iraq on Sunday, the 10th of May. There is almost thirteen years difference between our tours of duty. He knows my heart and prayers go with him and also that if possible, we would go together. Each of us joined the service, regardless of the branch, for independent reasons spanning almost fifty years. The contrasts of then and now are minimal collectively but distinctly different independently. The commonality of why all of us served was because of our over whelming acceptance of each other in the name of service for all the people of America. Community transcends time and has no geographic boundaries or specific locality. Community and security exists almost twenty years after exiting the military. Its presence is rekindled simply by meeting someone else who has served. The support from communities is important because it provides humans with an emotional bond, comfort, validation, and security.