Dear God, Please Keep Daddy Safe: A Family Story from the Home Front

Dear God,

Please Keep

Daddy Safe

A Family Story from the Home Front

VIRGINIA KIERNAN

iUniverse LLC

Bloomington

DEAR GOD, PLEASE KEEP DADDY SAFE

A FAMILY STORY FROM THE HOME FRONT

Copyright © 2014 Virginia Kiernan.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-2887-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-2888-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-2889-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014905326

iUniverse rev. date: 5/14/2014

Contents

Introduction

Coffee

Return to Duty

Air Assault

Preparing to Go

Snow Day

Red, White, Blue, and Yellow

The Grenade Attack

Into Iraq

A Soldier’s Story

Arlington

Send Daddy Home

It’s a Go

VTC/Webcam

Fall

Kim Orlando

The Holidays

The Final Month

The Hangar

Epilogue

I would like to thank all those who walked with me on this adventure: Laura Beth; Susan; Chris; Lindsay; Alison and Amanda; and my husband, Verner. Without your love, encouragement, and patience, I don’t think this book would have ever been written.

I also would like to thank God, who gives me strength everyday. He definitely carried me through all those times that were so tough.

I would like to say a special thanks to Laura Beth and James Beebe, who got this book off my shelf and had it published.

Lastly, I would like to dedicate this book to the men and women who serve in our military; they put their lives on the line for our freedoms. Specifically, this book is dedicated to the following, who paid the ultimate sacrifice:

CPT Chris Seifert

MAJ Gregg Stone

LTC Kim Orlando

SGT Michael Hancock

Introduction

W hen someone comments, Your mama wears combat boots, my kids would say, Yeah, so what? Okay, so kids don’t say that anymore, but I am proud to have served in the army for ten years and to have been in the sixth class of females to graduate from the US Military Academy. I am more proud, though, of the six beautiful children God blessed my husband, Verner, and I with. I was fortunate to be able to leave my own job as a military police officer in order to stay at home with our kids when they were young. So when Verner went back to active duty in August 2001 after a four-year break, my primary job was well established as Mom.

Those experiences undoubtedly helped shape who I am. I am a very emotional person, but I like to be in control and present a strong front. I am not afraid of things like spiders or snakes. I like roller coasters, and it was a thrill to jump out of airplanes when I went to Airborne school. But being a mom offers joys, fears, and challenges unique from anything else. Although the term is stay-at-home mom, most of my days were outside of the house, at the park, with a playgroup, or at the older kids’ school, volunteering. Although I don’t scare easily and like the more physical and fun aspects of life, God has given me a tender heart. I tear up when I see a child running to a soldier dad who has just returned from deployment or when I see a wife receiving a folded flag at a military funeral. Another trigger is songs on the radio that were popular during Verner’s deployment. They make me catch my breath as I remember that emotional time in my life.

The idea for writing a book came from the prompting of numerous friends. While Verner was deployed, I kept in touch with many of my friends and family through e-mail. He deployed in February 2003, so Facebook, Twitter, and other forms of social media that we live by now were hardly a thought, much less available. The concept of blogging was still in its infancy and something I had no clue existed, but e-mail worked great for me. I shared parts of the stories that are in this book with those close to me. That summer I got a few e-mails from friends who said they loved my stories and that I should write a book. I thought about it briefly, but it wasn’t until the fall when more friends were encouraging me to write a book that I took on this quest. I printed out my e-mails and gathered notes and began to write. I have tried to record incidents as accurately as possible. The people who I mention in this book are real. If their names appear, they were positive role models, friends, or those who I leaned on for support.

I finished writing this story in the summer of 2004, about six months after Verner returned from Iraq. Then I spent another six months working to refine it. I allowed friends to read the finished product and everyone who read it encouraged me to publish the book, but I never got it to print. The business of life that plagues many of us allowed it to sit on the shelf. In fact, it sat for about eight years until my oldest daughter told me she wanted to help publish my book. So now, on the tenth anniversary of Verner’s deployment, I am presenting a piece of me and a glimpse of our lives on the home front.

Coffee

T he church is packed but quiet. Soft music is playing as people file in and try to find an empty seat. I sit in the fourth row. Sherry and her two boys will come in last and sit in the front row. That’s how they always do it. The family left behind comes in last and sits in the front row. We are all there to honor Sherry’s husband and Jason’s dad, Gregory. As I listen to stories of this great man, I see Jason put his head on Sherry’s shoulder. Tears flow. Sherry now will have to live her life alone. My mind wanders, and I think, Who will sit in the front row next ? It is a horrible thought, and I try to shake it from my head. No, it won’t be me! It can’t! But I, like Sherry, am an army wife. My husband is in Iraq. He left eight months ago, in February 2003, and here I am attending another funeral.

That February seemed to be years ago, yet it is still so vivid in my mind. Things were heating up in Iraq, and many were asking, Why is the United States waiting? It had been twelve years since Desert Storm, and Saddam was still flicking his nose at us. The rumor on the post was that the 101st Airborne Division (our husbands) would go soon, before the war started. But rumors were always flying around the post. Operations in Afghanistan had started just the year before, in 2002, and we constantly heard that the entire 101st would go. Then they sent only one of the three brigades from the 101st to Afghanistan. After Third Brigade left, the rumors bubbled that the rest of the division would soon join them. At that time, Verner, my husband, was working in the division assault tactical operations center (TOC). Verner was told several times that the assault TOC would probably join the fighting in Afghanistan within a month. The rumors were so strong that Verner was issued the desert camouflage uniform, something that was not normally done until deployment orders were issued. Like many of his coworkers, he got his will in order and signed a general power of attorney for me so that I would have it if he went overseas. He never went to Afghanistan, though.

A year later, we were in rumor land again. The talk and the activity on the post seemed to point to deployment. Training exercises were canceled, and family support groups were refined. But no orders were given. Could it be that the leaders on the post just wanted the division to be ready? After all, they were soldiers, and if the country needed them, they wanted to respond quickly and strongly. Everyone knew the 101st Airborne Division was one of the army’s best units. The 101st fought against the Iraqi army in Desert Storm, but they were stopped from going into Baghdad and finishing the job for political reasons. We watched the news, hit the Internet, and tried to get a clue about when or if the division would go to Iraq.

I attended a wives’ coffee on February 5. The coffee is a long-standing military tradition. Once a month, the officer and senior noncommissioned officer (NCO) wives would gather, but we didn’t drink coffee. We normally met in one of the wives’ homes, discussed unit and community events, ate a snack, and visited. It was a chance to meet with other wives who shared a common bond—all of our husbands were leaders in the unit and were responsible for the health and welfare of soldiers, on and off duty. I looked forward to the coffees. Verner was an artillery officer, assigned to an artillery battalion, but his new job required him to work directly with an infantry brigade, so I actually belonged to two coffee groups, an infantry group and an artillery group. Verner had encouraged me to join the infantry coffee group, and he made sure my name was included on the membership list. Attending the infantry coffees was not mandatory, but I respected my husband’s suggestions, so I went willingly. I had only been to a few of the infantry coffees when I went to one I would never forget.

It was held at Jennifer Warren’s house. Jennifer was in her late thirties, seemingly shy, and very family oriented. She was a stay-at-home mom with three preschoolers, and she always had a huge smile on her face. I soon learned that it was safe to call almost any of the wives Jennifer because the guests included Jennifer Franks, Jennifer Cook, and Jen Romaine. There were about twenty wives in the coffee group, but only about ten were present that evening. It was the usual crowd. Terri Seifert brought her three-month-old son, and Roni Roberts came in late after she ensured her month-old son would be okay with her husband.

The brigade commander’s wife, Holly Hodges, ran the meeting. Holly was a treasure, very down to earth. She always made me, an artillery wife, feel so welcome. Her husband, Col. Ben Hodges, was in charge of the First Brigade of the 101st, which numbered about 1,500 soldiers. His job carried many responsibilities, but it meant that Holly had many duties as well. She was the wife of a MUC (pronounced muck), a major unit commander. The responsibilities of an army officer’s wife were similar to those of a politician’s wife. For example, the First Lady is looked to for her leadership almost as much as the president is relied on for his. At Fort Campbell, the MUC wives were near the top of the pyramid. A MUC wife was looked to for her strength and knowledge and was often a mentor for the other wives. Occasionally, she had to stand in for her husband, but Holly’s main task was to represent all the wives in the brigade when the MUC wives met with other officials. Years ago, officers actually received a mark on their annual rating to reflect how well their wives performed their duties. The work a wife did was all voluntary, but the responsibilities normally fell within her spouse’s job. Holly was the best. She was strong, but silly at times, and she didn’t wear her husband’s rank on her sleeve. It was a great balance.

Holly stood up and said, Ours guys are going.

The room was silent for a few seconds. Everyone’s eyes were frozen on Holly.

The press release is tomorrow, she continued. I think we all knew it was coming. I don’t have a timeline, but they should be leaving sometime in March.

Why didn’t Verner tell me before I left for the coffee? Does he know? I definitely hadn’t expected this tonight. Some of the ladies began to ask questions; others talked among themselves. Holly told us that she didn’t have any other information but would try to keep us informed.

Terri Seifert got up, her son on her hip, and told everyone she was going to move back home. I don’t think I can do this alone, she said.

I was struck by her comment. I wondered how many others would go back to their families. Should I go home? Back to my family in Florida? No, it wouldn’t make sense. Pulling the kids out of school … moving … Plus, our lease in Clarksville wasn’t up until the summer, and we’d just rented out our home in Florida a few days earlier. The cost would be exorbitant. I guess if I’d just had a baby like Terri, I would have considered it. It probably would have made the separation much easier, but it was going to be a test. Could I do it alone?

Verner had never been deployed before. He had been away for months at a time when he went to the field for training. About ten years earlier, when I’d been in the military, we’d been stationed at different posts. I’d done it on my own before, but now we had six kids—the oldest in high school, the youngest a preschooler. Doubts quickly went through my head. Can I … really? Yes, I was convinced I would be strong. Since 9/11, I had talked with many wives who were experienced with deployment. Some had husbands who’d left during Desert Storm; others had husbands who recently dealt with the Taliban. Deployment didn’t seem too bad. The women always talked about the fun side of living on your own, not being tied down, and the extra money the family earned while their husbands were away. So why did Terri’s words stick with me? Terri left, and the rest of us went into the kitchen, ate a snack that Jennifer had prepared, and talked. The coffee ended early, and I headed home with tons of questions on my mind.

At home, Verner was surprised when I told him about Holly’s announcement. He had heard the same thing at work, but wasn’t sure that it was official. We discussed what might be ahead. We stayed up late, but that was the norm in our home. Once the kids were in bed, there were still so many things to do. But that night, it was little work and lots of discussion. That night I didn’t sleep well. My dreams were wild. In one dream, I was fighting in a war, and our kids were there too. Verner was absent. The enemies I was fighting were fierce, and I saw only hate on their faces. They didn’t seem to mind that the kids were in the line of fire. I woke up. It took a few seconds to realize that it was just a dream. I moved closer to Verner and closed my eyes, wet now from tears. I fell asleep again.

The next day the news was released to the press, and every local station carried the story:

101st Airborne Division (Air Assault) Receives Deployment Orders, Fort Campbell, KY, February 6, 2003.—The 101st Airborne Division (Air Assault) and associated units stationed at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, have received orders to deploy to the U.S. Central Command area of operations (AOR) to support possible future operations in the global war on terrorism. The specifics of any such operations are not known at this time.

The report explained that the 101st was an elite force, but the only message I heard was that Verner was going to war.

The two youngest watching soldiers perform air assault at Ft. Campbell, KY.

Return to Duty

V erner—my husband, my love, my partner for life, the father of my children, the spiritual leader of the family—is an incredible man. We met in college. We were cadets at the United States Military Academy at West Point, New York, and were both assigned to the same company, I-4. I was in the