My Vet...

I grew up a Air Force brat, my dad served 23 years in the US Air Force and I had the most amazing childhood...while I didn't go to any exotic, I did my fair share of moving...I started life out at Malstrom Air Force Base in Great Falls Montana, lived in Guam, moved to Fairchild Air Force Base in Spokeane Washington, FE Warren Air Force Base in Cheyenne, Wyoming; and finished my childhood up at the one place I can lay claim to McConnell Air Force Base in Wichita, Kansas.  I use to joke with people and say that while my sister's blood glowed in the dark (my dad worked on nuclear weapons), my blood ran blue.  Yep I was Air Force through and through.

I had a thing for men in uniform, my high school sweetheart joined the Navy; my first husband was an Airman and the true love of my life a Solider.  Guess that while my blood ran blue, I am a Hooah girl at heart and the heart is what rules the world!!

Meet my vet.....

My Sgt. is also from my hometown, he was homegrown there...the boy whose family owned the "strawberry farm"...trust and believe these strawberries could bring tears to a grown man eyes.  But he was born and raised in out peaceful Kansas town, instilled with the midwest values that I find so enduring, knows what a hard days work is and the value of good country song and long dirt road.

While I never really found out what drove him to join the Army shortly after his youngest son was born, I would like to believe that he felt a sence of famiy pride, his grandfather served in WWII, his uncle was a drill sarg. from back in the day.  And as you know by now he joined the ranks as well.

He went in as a 13M or for those of you "civy's" out there a rocket jockey!  He was in field artillary (the king of battle), more specifically he was the guy who would sit in a tank that was designed to fire rockets out of well it looked like a box to me but I do believe that they perfered the word pod. 

My Sgt was part of the invading forces into Iraq at the beginning of Operation Iraqi Freedom, to see the pictures that he has of the hundred of tanks and trucks lined up waiting to roll in and do what the army does best, kick ass and takes names!  He did his part and came home in one piece..never the same but whole none the less. 

He would go onto serve yet another tour in Iraq completing the job that he had started.  I was with him during his last tour and to say that I didn't take a deep breath for a year is not far from the truth.  To love a solider is hard to love a combat solider is just pure craziness.  I never knew from one day to the next if he was on mission, if he was okay, if he was safe and warm or cool as it may be...did he shower, eat, get any sleep and most importantly did he miss me and love me as much as I did him?

He came home after his tour and served out his time.  He was an amazing Sgt and this shows by the love and respect his soliders still show him now even in his civilian life. 

While he is now out of the military he is still every ounce of the solider and Sgt he once was.  He is my inspiration in my solidering days even though our army's are worlds apart.

He has stepped down and let me slide into the combat boots.  He is an amazing husband and can pack a mean ruck sack.  So now he watches me come and go and do my solidering thing with a tight hug, big kiss and word and encourgement that only a solider can give. 

I would never be able to be half the person I am without him, in both of my lives!!