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So this weekend I found out that my brother is most likely going to be shipped to Baghdad. I have a whole range of emotions that cropped up when I found this out. I will take you, dear reader, on a journey. This will be a journey into the thoughts and feelings of one SRH concerning his older brother’s potential deployment to the Green Zone.
The first that the careened through my head was, “WTF? My brother is a full time naval reservist working HR functions in Virginia Beach. Why would he be deployed into a warzone, much less a dry boot warzone?” 1. He is in the NAVY, why wouldn’t he be stationed on one of their big ships? 2. He works in Navy HR doing man-power logistics, what would necessitate him being on-site to plan man-power stuff? 3. WTF? He is in the NAVY!
The second thought that went through my head was, “Hasn’t my brother been kicked out of the military 4 or 5 times? Why would they even WANT him in their war, unless of course it was to get rid of him….” My paranoia is pretty well entrenched in my sub-conscious. I dismissed this thought pretty quickly, but it still popped up. How far down the barrel are they scraping? If my brother the perennial honorable discharge candidate for the US Armed Forces is getting sent into a combat theatre, does that mean they have already used up the qualified people?
The third thought that went through my head was, “Great, now my brother’s going to be in Iraq and my best friend is still stuck in Afghanistan. I don’t need this stress.” I mean, really, between Little Man’s asthma, OT issues, Wifey’s liver mass, and the typical and atypical professional stressors, do I really need a family member to be sent into Operation Desert Handjob?
The fourth thought that went through my head was, “I wonder what exactly they would need my HR logistics brother to do.” I called the guy and asked what was up. He would be doing manpower projections for a joint task force team-up between the Army and the Navy concerning Improvised Explosive Devices (IED’s) and Counter Electronics Warfare. There are 4 types of IED’s running around in Iraq: ones set off via-cell phone call, ones set off using a remote detonator, ones that are physically set-off due to pressure changes and weight, and ones that are set off using sophisticated electronics. It seems that the Navy has a pretty good system set up to deal with Counter E-warfare, while the Army doesn’t. Therefore, the Navy is working closely with the Army to learn this stuff.
The fifth thought that went through my head was, “Whoa, whoa, whoa there city slicker. Why would my brother get this assignment? He doesn’t work with Counter E-warfare. Did my brother volunteer?” Okay, turns out that my brother currently works with some kind of joint task force and has previously been part of some Counter E-Warfare crap, so he might have been tagged, but then he said that he is really excited about this “opportunity.” Opportunity?!?!? Is he just spinning this or was it some kind of “either volunteer and be thanked or force us to send you and not be thanked” situation? Either way he is at least starting to spin this in his head. “It will be a good career move for me.” “I will get a leg up on the next group up for promotions.” Etc…
The sixth thought that went through my head was, “I really don’t have the relationship with my brother that I want. What should I do to help change the status quo.” I really would hate for him to go into a combat zone and get waxed without at least having attempted to create a new friendship with him. I honestly could have stopped the last sentence at “waxed.” I do love my flawed brother, I really do. Whenever I think of him, I remember the fun loving guy I used to throw cold water on while he was showering. I think of the guy who, without prodding from the parents, invited me to hang out with his friends. I think of the guy who was quick to laugh and quick to make a joke. I think of that guy before I think of the guy he seems to be today. The guy who is immobilized by the responsibilities he doesn’t want. The guy who has used the military as a shield and a crutch. The guy who has an inability to make decisions out of his fear of failure. I always think of the fun guy (not fungi) first. Always.
The seventh thought that went through my head was, “I hate this fucking war.” Now there is a chance that I will lose my best friend and the potential of being friends with my brother again.
To recap
He should know his orders within the next week or so
I NEED to exercise tonight
My shoulder is feeling better
It still hurts though
Looks like we have figured out a way to make little personal pizzas for Little Man
That is very nice
Sorry for the melancholy
That is where I am today
Tomorrow’s 20 Questions will be all about Gen X stuff
Cheers
The first that the careened through my head was, “WTF? My brother is a full time naval reservist working HR functions in Virginia Beach. Why would he be deployed into a warzone, much less a dry boot warzone?” 1. He is in the NAVY, why wouldn’t he be stationed on one of their big ships? 2. He works in Navy HR doing man-power logistics, what would necessitate him being on-site to plan man-power stuff? 3. WTF? He is in the NAVY!
The second thought that went through my head was, “Hasn’t my brother been kicked out of the military 4 or 5 times? Why would they even WANT him in their war, unless of course it was to get rid of him….” My paranoia is pretty well entrenched in my sub-conscious. I dismissed this thought pretty quickly, but it still popped up. How far down the barrel are they scraping? If my brother the perennial honorable discharge candidate for the US Armed Forces is getting sent into a combat theatre, does that mean they have already used up the qualified people?
The third thought that went through my head was, “Great, now my brother’s going to be in Iraq and my best friend is still stuck in Afghanistan. I don’t need this stress.” I mean, really, between Little Man’s asthma, OT issues, Wifey’s liver mass, and the typical and atypical professional stressors, do I really need a family member to be sent into Operation Desert Handjob?
The fourth thought that went through my head was, “I wonder what exactly they would need my HR logistics brother to do.” I called the guy and asked what was up. He would be doing manpower projections for a joint task force team-up between the Army and the Navy concerning Improvised Explosive Devices (IED’s) and Counter Electronics Warfare. There are 4 types of IED’s running around in Iraq: ones set off via-cell phone call, ones set off using a remote detonator, ones that are physically set-off due to pressure changes and weight, and ones that are set off using sophisticated electronics. It seems that the Navy has a pretty good system set up to deal with Counter E-warfare, while the Army doesn’t. Therefore, the Navy is working closely with the Army to learn this stuff.
The fifth thought that went through my head was, “Whoa, whoa, whoa there city slicker. Why would my brother get this assignment? He doesn’t work with Counter E-warfare. Did my brother volunteer?” Okay, turns out that my brother currently works with some kind of joint task force and has previously been part of some Counter E-Warfare crap, so he might have been tagged, but then he said that he is really excited about this “opportunity.” Opportunity?!?!? Is he just spinning this or was it some kind of “either volunteer and be thanked or force us to send you and not be thanked” situation? Either way he is at least starting to spin this in his head. “It will be a good career move for me.” “I will get a leg up on the next group up for promotions.” Etc…
The sixth thought that went through my head was, “I really don’t have the relationship with my brother that I want. What should I do to help change the status quo.” I really would hate for him to go into a combat zone and get waxed without at least having attempted to create a new friendship with him. I honestly could have stopped the last sentence at “waxed.” I do love my flawed brother, I really do. Whenever I think of him, I remember the fun loving guy I used to throw cold water on while he was showering. I think of the guy who, without prodding from the parents, invited me to hang out with his friends. I think of the guy who was quick to laugh and quick to make a joke. I think of that guy before I think of the guy he seems to be today. The guy who is immobilized by the responsibilities he doesn’t want. The guy who has used the military as a shield and a crutch. The guy who has an inability to make decisions out of his fear of failure. I always think of the fun guy (not fungi) first. Always.
The seventh thought that went through my head was, “I hate this fucking war.” Now there is a chance that I will lose my best friend and the potential of being friends with my brother again.
To recap
He should know his orders within the next week or so
I NEED to exercise tonight
My shoulder is feeling better
It still hurts though
Looks like we have figured out a way to make little personal pizzas for Little Man
That is very nice
Sorry for the melancholy
That is where I am today
Tomorrow’s 20 Questions will be all about Gen X stuff
Cheers
Labels: mad ramblings
8 Comments:
Dude, I'm so sorry. That sucks in every possible way. And you know I concur heartily with your evaluation of current geopolitical strife 'n shit.
Please forgive my rueful chuckle at "Operation Desert Handjob." On the other hand, if you don't want me to laugh at inappropriate moments, then stop being funny.
B:
It does suck.
As for the rueful chuckle, this war is nothing if not masturbatory.
There are some guys who just love that military life, the camraderie, the testosterone, whatever. For some of us, combat might seem like more fun than a desk job and pile of failures and responsabilities. The real question is, what comes after that? Besides alcoholism, I mean.
Atmikha
Atmikha:
He uses the military as a good excuse to not face his parenting/partnering issues. No one thinks that a guy stuck in Iraq is a bad parent because they are stuck in Iraq, but I guy who doesn't really make much effort to do stuff with his kids in the states could be considered a questionable parent. I honestly don't think he does the military life for the adrenaline rush or excitement, I think he does it to avoid his own personal responsibilities.
Oh, I hate to pull out my therapist credentials, but I think it’s clear that you’re going through Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’s Classic Stages of Grief. Follow me through your seven thoughts, and I’m sure it will become clear to you.
Stage 1 Shock - This doesn’t make sense. My brother’s in the navy. Navy folks only go where’s there’s water.
Stage 2 Denial – To be clear, the military wants anyone and everyone – just because they kicked your brother out in peacetime, doesn’t mean they don’t want him now.
Stage 2A Narcissism – (not one of Kubler-Ross’ phases, but your third point pretty clearly illustrates that this is where you are.)
Stage 3 Bargaining – trying to figure out what exactly he’ll do over there. A sort of, “Okay he can do the job, but it doesn’t have to be over there, does it?”
Stage 3A Suspicious Paranoia – (again not one of Kubler-Ross’ phases, but nobody in their right mind would volunteer, would they?)
Stage 4 Guilt - over not having the relationship with your brother that you want. This probably has something to do with your Black wife, but I’m just guessing here.
Stage 5 Anger - at this war and your brother for joining the military during it.
Stage 6 Depression – that’s coming, I’m sure.
Stage 7 Acceptance and hope - Maybe when they both come home you’ll feel this way, but it’s a way off from what I can tell.
I’m thrilled that you’re so classically following a psychotherapeutic model – it makes it so much easier for therapists when their clients go by the book. But I do also appreciate the narcissism and suspicious paranoia thrown in for good measure - that makes this process especially yours.
(In complete opposition to the sarcasm above, I will say that I adore you.)
Wifey:
How did you get 9 stages of Grief from my seven thoughts. Someone hasn't used their therapizing skills in a while, have they?
Wow. Best of luck to your brother and your BFF. My cousin's son just joined the Marines. No word on when he's getting shipped out yet. Or where.
SRH
I am pretty sure I am not going to die over here. In fact, I DARE God to try it!!
That should make you feel better,
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