USMC – …on the B.L.

End of An Era

September 13, 2019September 13, 2019 RaeAnna

I never wanted a military relationship. On a technicality, I never had an official, romantic, military relationship. But I have been in a military relationship from start to finish.

Shortly after Alex and I started dating in the winter of 2011, he told me he wanted to go into the military after graduating from college that spring. I knew I didn’t want to be in college while my boyfriend was off being a soldier or whatever. If he wanted to be in the military, then we would be friends. I wouldn’t do it with him.

Alex was never supposed to be anything more than a fling. He was a senior. I was a freshman. Neither of us were looking for anything. But he was cute; I was awkward. I made a move; it worked. Instead of flinging it, we fell in love. The kind of profound love that can only come about when inexperience combines with true compatibility, honesty, and dedication. I was raw and broken emotion, and he didn’t turn away from my pain. I saw through his façade to the man I still see today. It was and is the kind of love which reaches deep within two souls. Alex is written on my DNA. There is not a part of me remaining he has not touched. I am the person I am because he took the time to see me. I used to think he made me the person I am, but that’s not true. He did not make me; I made me, but he pushed.

After five years, I finally have pictures of this sign.

Love is an extraordinary force. The love we found made him decide to put his military aspirations away so we could be together. A year and a half after he chose me over the military, we were laying in bed. He stared at the ceiling as he said, “I think, I still want to go into the military.” I loved him, and I knew this was something he needed to do or he would resent the what ifs. He met recruiters from every branch. As a couple, we met with the branches he was most impressed with. Together, we decided on the Marines. It took almost a year between interviewing recruiters to sending him to boot camp. OCS was the first choice, but the political climate and a paperwork fiasco made that process long and unreasonable. He didn’t want to wait any longer, so he enlisted in October 2013. By that time, we were no longer a couple, but we were still committed to each other, sharing a home, bills, and responsibilities. I watched him swear in before the bus took my Alex to become a Marine. I heard boot camp changed people, and I had no idea who I would hug at graduation in three months. I’m convinced nothing can change my Alex because he was exactly the same willful, messy, smart, inquisitive, sarcastic, quirky, goof of a person. He did have abs, though.

Six years.
Five birthdays.
Four ranks.
Three deployments.
Two quals.
One extension.
Sergeant LeFebvre.

It may not have been an official, romantic, military relationship. But I have been in a military relationship. I have been there for him in every way that I could. I have showed up for ceremonies and a homecoming. I have gone to balls and family days. I have written letters. I have made phone calls. I have planned and replanned trips. I have waited and wondered. I have sent care packages. I have attended weddings. I have made friends. I have bought plane tickets and driven over night. I have whisked him away and staycationed. I have been there.

The military has kept him away from me. He hasn’t been able to support me or show up for me. That’s not his fault. It’s not my fault. It’s military life. We signed up for it. We agreed to it. We knew what that contract meant. It never made his absence less painful. Agreeing to something and dealing with something are not the same. I graduated college, which was largely due to his existence in my life. I hoped he would be there to surprise me. He didn’t. I moved and got a job. I wanted him to celebrate with me. He didn’t. I ended up in the hospital and almost died. I prayed he could be there to hold my hand. He didn’t. I had surgery. I wished he could take care of me. He didn’t. I moved across the country. I wanted him to move me. He didn’t. I got sick and spent months trying to figure out what was wrong. I needed to hold his hand. He didn’t. I made friends, who I wish he could meet. He hasn’t.

Seriously. This is a great sign. Also, taking pictures without a tripod and only a phone… difficult.

I have been a part of Alex’s life for six years, but he has not been a physical part of mine. It’s not that Alex is a bad guy or doesn’t want to be a part of my life, but the military makes it difficult if not impossible. We have done what we can, but now, we’ll be able to do more. Alex missed so many things in my life, and we can’t get those back. The future holds possibility.

As of today, an era has ended. With DD 214, he’s on his way home. For good. He’ll always be a Marine, but he’s no longer active duty. A new journey is unfolding for him. One that will more easily allow him to be a part of my life. As happy as I am, it is bittersweet saying goodbye to our years in the military and being military adjacent. We both grew as people. He’s a better man, and I’m a more self-sufficient woman. I don’t know how our lives will look, but it will be different.

Dear Alex,

I am so fucking proud of you. I didn’t want this to be my life in 2011. By 2013, I had accepted this would be part of my life for an indeterminate amount of time. Six years is shorter than twenty, so thank you.

Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your life before the military, during, and after. Being your partner has been one of the greatest pleasures of my life. I don’t know who I would be without your constant presence, pressure, and reassurance even if it was in an email from a boat in the middle of somewhere. You have been worth every tear and worry crinkle but mostly laugh lines.

There is so much I won’t miss about the military. I will miss the balls, obviously. I will miss getting breakfast at the cafe downtown. I will miss the Marina. I will miss dragging you to lighthouses. I will miss the barracks in a masochistic sort of way. I will miss the idiots doing idiot things. I will miss your friends who I adore to tease. I will miss buying t-shirts that say Marines. I will miss the hanger and hearing helicopters over head. I will miss the lotion in the base hotel. I will miss the Aviation Memorial. I will miss driving through base. I will miss hearing acronyms. I will miss listening to you talk about your zingers and all the ways you annoy your peons. I will miss seeing you in uniform. I will miss the Pardon Our Noise; It’s the Sound of Freedom sign.

Most of all, I will miss walking next to you on Onslow Beach on Camp Lejeune. We have walked up and down that beach so many times over the last five years. We’ve walked it in July’s scorching sun and in December wrapped in sweaters. It was one of the first things we did on my first trip to Jacksonville and one of the last. I have collected the memories along with the rocks and shells you’ve given me on that beach. You never loved it as much as I did, but you always walked with me, no matter what.

Drive home safe, and I’ll see you soon.

Love Always,
RaeAnna

Books, NonFiction

Thank You For My Service by Mat Best

September 6, 2019September 6, 2019 RaeAnna

Worth A Read Yes: Entertaining and Honest
Length 240
Quick Review Mat Best was a Ranger before contracting and becoming known for his youTube channel, tshirt/whiskey/coffee companies, oh, and he made a movie. He’s entertaining as hell in his book Thank You For My Service.

Best is a badass, but I belong to a Marine family. | Thank You For My Service

As military adjacent, I’m interested in military nonfiction and memoirs, but as a critic I’m always wary because I’ve read some racist bulshit masquerading as war memoirs. Mat Best does a better-than-most job at balancing the realities of war with humanity in Thank You For My Service.

Best was a Ranger in the 75th Ranger Regiment for five active military deployments before working and deploying multiple times as a private contractor. While working as a contractor, he created a youTube channel capitalizing on his creative side to document his time, opinions, and experiences as a member of the military. The channel lead to a partnership, which created a tshirt company, whiskey company, production company, a movie, and a coffee company. He’s kind of a jack of all trades, it seems.

The military is a completely different way of life. It’s hard to understand if you’re not in it. Even as a milso, it’s not my way of life, but I am more familiar with it than others. If you’re not into a morbid sense of humor, don’t read Thank You For My Service because that’s a huge part of the narrative and the military. Jokes and rude humor are essential. To be honest, the book would be super weird if he didn’t include dark jokes. Best redacts certain words, even whole sections of text, to maintain anonymity and secrecy. This underpins the fact he had a dangerous job, and even though he’s cracking jokes, people’s lives are at risk every moment of every day.

I decided to pose with Thank You For My Service by Mat Best at the Aviation Memorial on MCAS New River in Jacksonville, North Carolina.

War is war. People killing people. War memoirs tend to dehumanize the enemy in a plethora of ways. It’s part of the job, and it would be hard not to when you see your friends and colleagues dying. Best doesn’t sugar coat the feelings he had in theater, but he also makes sure the reader knows on the other side of his gun are people. The fact he didn’t use racial slurs impressed me. He does er on the side of “kill the enemy,” but that was literally his job.

Best is confident, funny, and smart. He writes about his experiences leading up to enlisting, deployments, Ranger school, loss, getting out, private security, joining and being a private contractor, and figuring out his life. He doesn’t shy away from discussing what he went through getting out of the military. Being in his early twenties but feeling disconnected from his peers. So many military guys feel this way when they get out after their first enlistment.

He and I, I am sure, have a lot of differing opinions, but he’s also a person I would have a ton of fun grabbing coffee with or joking over a bonfire. Throughout Thank You For My Service he emphasizes the sense of community he had in the military. It’s true, whether you’re in or military adjacent, when you meet someone who is military, you have something to talk about or bond over.

Memorable Quotes|
“Thinking you’re going to die and wanting to die are totally different things. I didn’t have a death wish. It’s just that, in my experience, the more you deploy and face the dark realities that exist in life, the more comfortable you become with the idea of death.”
“…being immersed in Ranger culture for four straight years had affected how I saw the world and, more to the point, how the world saw me.”

Buy on Barnes & Noble | Buy on Book Depository | Buy on Walmart
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Title: Thank You For My Service
Author: Mat Best
With: Ross Patterson and Nils Parker
Publisher: Bantam Books
Copyright: 2019
ISBN: 9781524796495

In My Own Words, Lifestyle

Military Movies

May 27, 2019June 23, 2019 RaeAnna

I don’t crumble at much. Military movies make me crumble. I wasn’t always that way; they never used to affect me at all. When Alex started the enlistment process, I started to look at them differently. Up until that point, they were history, other people’s lives. Once the military started to creep into the edges of my life, military movies became the embodiment of my greatest fears. I’ve barely begun writing this and tears are streaming down my face. Having to think about this for longer than a moment feels like my lungs are collapsing on themselves.

The thing I fear most in this world is losing Alex. It’s the one thing that I don’t think I would ever recover from. I am genuinely uninterested in a world he does not exist in.

He left for bootcamp five and a half years ago. Since the day I stood waiving as his bus drove away, I have worried. I have lived with a deeply rooted fear that the last time I saw him will be the last time I see him. War movies are the worst case scenario, but he’s in the military. It’s a scenario planted solidly in the plausible. And in the political climate we live in, it feels like anything is possible. Things move slowly and wish-washy in the military, until they don’t. Then, they move incredibly fast. “Surprise! You’re going on a DET tomorrow for two weeks.” You never know for sure until it’s happening.

The fear worsens when he’s deployed. I’m lucky. I am so incredibly lucky. I have never forgotten that fact. He’s been deployed to really cushy areas. He’s on his third deployment. Hopefully his last. Even in the cushy areas, there are so many unknowns. Often times, I will go weeks and even months without hearing anything from him. More often than not, I don’t hear about things until he’s home. Let’s be honest, I don’t really know when he’s coming home until a week or two before. I once found out he was home when he called to tell me he’d arrived. We’ve missed Christmases and birthdays and celebrations for almost six years. I don’t care as long as he comes home. During his first deployment to Japan, there was a pretty awful tsunami, which they had to evacuate for. I found out about the storm from my best friend, who was watching the news. I didn’t learn about the evacuation until eight months after he was home from another MilSO. At the time, it was terrifying. They had no power, so no way to communicate. He was fine having a grown-man slumber party with his buddies in the barracks. But human nature takes us to the darkest, deepest recesses of our minds. I’m very much an Eeyore, so this has been a rough five and a half years in my dark, deep recess.

It’s hard not to worry when their job description includes a weapon. It’s one thing to go shooting in Grandma and Grandpa’s pasture with your dad’s childhood rifle. And a completely different thing to be issued a gun. They are trained. They practice. They aim. They breathe. In case someday they have to shoot. I am terrified of that day because it means someone else is aiming too. War movies remind me of this. They’re all guns ablaze, awesome explosions, a clear enemy, a clear hero. War isn’t that. It’s not that at all. It’s not for entertainment. War is terrifying. War is people against people, who all think they’re right. They’re all just fighting for the people they love at home. They’re young. They’re so young. Alex went in at 24, and that was considered “ancient.” Most kids go in at 18 on their first breath of freedom. It’s too young to die.

War movies mostly show the military side of things in the thick of it. There’s more to it. There are the families. There is the after. I remember watching American Sniper when it came out. The scene where he’s on the phone with his pregnant wife, and she hears the gun fire on the other side of the world before the line cuts out. She crumpled. I crumpled. Alex was deployed at the time. I can’t imagine. I don’t want to imagine. That scene was one of the hardest for me to watch. Amy Schumer’s character in Thank You For Your Service is still my favorite of her performances. She donated her paycheck to TAPS and Fisher House because some people’s fears come true, and their service members don’t come home or come home forever changed. Us at home. We have stories. We have lives that keep going, but there’s a part of us pausing. Waiting to breath until the next email or phone call or hug. Worry. I’m good at worrying. Every time there’s an unfamiliar phone number from a distant place. Every day I don’t see his name in my inbox. Every single moment there is silence, there is an ache waiting to know he’s ok.

Military movies put my fears on a big screen. They show all the crap, I don’t want to think about as a possibility. I don’t want to think about his death. What about mine? The military dictates my life in a way, but it dictates every part of Alex’s. They are away from us. They don’t know what’s going on at home. When I was 24, I was in the hospital for a long time in total organ failure. I was dying. The doctors told me to prepare myself and those I loved. Alex wasn’t deployed, but he couldn’t come. I didn’t know if I would live or die. I didn’t know if I would ever see him again. He knew I was sick and called as much as he could. I wasn’t able to communicate well, so I couldn’t tell him the extent of how sick I was. I also knew he couldn’t come, so I didn’t tell him how sick I was because it wasn’t going to change anything. I wasn’t going to make him worry. I remember laying in the hospital bed, and all I wanted was to hold his hand one more time. I would have given anything for him to be there. I was too sick for many tears to come, so I closed my eyes and prayed to a God I don’t believe in. To this day, it is one of the most painful times to recall because I needed him. He couldn’t be there. I wasn’t worried, but I was scared.

Alex works on helicopters. He’s on a boat. He’s somewhere in the world in the ocean. The likelihood he will ever have a gun pointed at him is pretty low. I am lucky. I am so lucky. Accidents happen. I know of so many cases where flukes happen and lives are ruined, ended. (I live with a life and body ruined by a fluke that happened one day on base in Jacksonville, North Carolina because of a helicopter. But that’s a story for another day.) Bad things can happen to anyone anywhere. The military just magnitizes that fear. Those men and women sign up willing to risk their lives. That is honorable and noble. They have my respect and support. The people who love them stand by hoping to never get the call. Service men and women may be willing to give the ultimate sacrifice, but I am not. I am not willing to sacrifice Alex.