“People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.” George Orwell
My father enlisted in the Navy when I was about 6 months old. For the next 20 years my life was a series of naval bases and military housing. During that time I was privy to the triumphs and challenges of military life, not only as a “brat,” but also as an extended member of the military family. To this day I'm more at home on a military base than I have ever been in the civilian world, and I'm nearly 59-years-old.
It was always difficult on me and the other members of my family to be far from home and loved ones. But at least we had each another. I can still recall how much harder it was on those who were stationed alone. Yes, they had their brother and sister service members, but that is far from the same thing as being among family and close friends back home. The holidays, particularly, were hard on them. Many of the families would invite the single men and women to their houses to celebrate Christmas and Thanksgiving. To find some joy in the season, some of the singles would bundle up and go house to house singing carols. Living in Adak, Alaska, this was particularly poignant as it was so isolated. The weather was often foul to the degree that days when the temperature reached sixty-five degrees, all nonessential personnel were given liberty to enjoy it while it lasted. Some even donned their bathing suits and sunbathed! Cabin fever, loneliness, and depression were rampant and it wasn't an easy task to get away for a while. For most of us, it was too expensive to leave the island until we were transferred. So, in the meanwhile, we only had one another, really, to share the realities of living there.
Now I volunteer with two military charities, Soldiers' Angels and Adopt-A-Platoon, because I remember those who were far from home. I remember how lonely and difficult it was. Back then, there were few organizations in existence that offered support for deployed personnel. It was post-Vietnam and the country was still reeling from the protests against military activities. It hadn't completely accepted that the men and women who served during that turbulent time were making all manner of sacrifices, from basic comforts like showers and hot food to their very lives. The country didn't understand the cost they paid regardless of whether they volunteered or were drafted. Perhaps it simply didn't care.
Now there are many of us who are determined that no soldier/sailor/marine/airman will ever be forgotten or, even worse, subjected to disgusting behavior on the part of those who malign them for what they've done in the line of duty and from their own principles and values. Whatever our politics, however we may feel about public officials, we are united in supporting those who basically do our national defense work for us.
What I do is simple. I write letters. I send cards for different occasions. I send care packages that can hold snacks, basic hygiene products, and books or magazines to read. Perhaps there will be a small game or some small craft, such as a coloring book and colored pencils, to help alleviate stress. Whatever I send, I know that simply receiving something during mail call can mean the difference between a good day or bad. Some of those servicemen and women never receive anything at all, and I find that unacceptable. Though I was never able to serve for medical reasons, I still consider them to be my brothers and sisters. I may never have seen battle but I've still been there if only through the words of those who have and in my heart's imagination.
So I put my time and energy into doing what I can to show my appreciation and understanding. I remember all those lonely sailors that surrounded me while I was growing up. I want to reach out to those who have followed in their boots with a friendly hand, and I want to show them I care. I am a Navy brat. I have not forgotten. I will be here until they all come home.
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