never forget

I've been in a bit of a funk about this anniversary for a couple of days now. It's hitting me a lot harder than I thought it would and I've found myself consumed with thoughts and questions that I haven't thought about for almost a year. I don't really want to get into the substance of those thoughts and questions, so I'll leave it at that. 


--- From my old blog, one year ago today ---

My week starts on a good note -- I look at my calendar and realize we would hit the 200 days deployed mark this week. I think about how I feel great because with R&R behind us I found myself actually starting to count down.

I arrive at work and I start checking the news.

4 NATO/ISAF troops killed in eastern A-stan.

My stomach drops because for some reason this one feels different.

I pop over to ArmyTimes.

4 NATO/ISAF troops killed and a spokesperson for the US military confirms that they are 4 US soldiers.

Nausea. Fear. Dread. I cannot stop thinking about it.

I text one of my husband's Army/Ranger/etc buddies who is stateside with a different unit to ask if it’s wholly inappropriate for me to call one of my husband's squad leaders [he has a cell phone] to find out if they are ok. My instinct is yes it’s totally inappropriate – I would never want to be “that girl” – and his friend confirms this.

I sit and wait. I work.

45 minutes after the aforementioned text message: my phone rings. I see the first two digits – 93 – and it’s all I need to know. Afghanistan.

At this moment I know that those four men are somehow related to my husband. In the seconds before I answer the phone, I am overcome with the  weirdest feeling of calm -- to know that in a single instant everything I was afraid of was confirmed -- and dread -- to not know how exactly he is involved -- that I've ever experienced. 

I answer the phone. My voice shakes. I wait to hear whose voice is on the other end of the line.

It’s my husband.

I ask, "Are you ok?" 

He doesn’t answer.

He immediately apologizes for not talking to me sooner. He asks if anyone from the FRG has been in touch with me. He apologizes again.

I say, “I saw it on the news. Are you ok?” 

“Yes.”

“But.. your guys….”

“They’re mine…” 

“Oh, honey, I am so sorry”

[voice cracks] “Thanks, I know.”

The rest is pretty much a blur of me choking back tears and “I love you”s.

The one thing that will stay with me forever is how calmly and convincingly he said “L--, I will come home to you.”

I’m holding him to that.

[He later told me that the vehicle that was hit was the one he usually rode in. Only God knows why they switched things up that day. After this IED attack, his unit deemed the use of Humvees to be too dangerous and required brigade approval for any further use.]

---

20 July 2009. Fizz, Tuna, Face and Tank. Never forget.