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LOOKING FOR LUNCH: A short-eared owl hunts west of the airport Sunday afternoon. / Photo by Nancy Williams
Today's word on
journalism

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

On permanence:

"My work is being destroyed almost as soon as it is printed. One day it is being read; the next day someone's wrapping fish in it."

--Al Capp, cartoonist (1909-1979) (Thanks to alert WORDster Jim Doyle)

Having a spouse serve in Iraq brings one couple closer, splits another in two

By Tara Turley

The door opened into an apartment with white walls that were bare except for a life-size cardboard figure of John Wayne directly inside the doorway.

"The Duke," Chance Hayes said, looking at the cut-out with admiration.

He used to watch John Wayne movies with his mother when he was younger. His favorite is McLintock. He doesn't remember why except for they watched it the most often.

The furniture in the apartment consists of three Love Sacs, all strategically placed around a 50 inch television with speakers scattered throughout the room for surround sound. Two of his roommates were slouched onto one of the Love Sacs and were gazing zombie-eyed at the Play Station game they were playing.

In the next room were four shelves of books ranging from Harry Potter to the Holy Bible. There were no pictures of a couple on their wedding day or pictures that a husband could use to remember his wife.

With so many soldiers serving in different parts of the world, there is bound to be a spouse left behind.

Marriages are either strengthened or destroyed. Homecomings are either anticipated or ignored. Hayes is the husband of a soldier serving in Iraq. Mandy is the wife of a soldier serving in Iraq. Even though both marriages had a loving farewell, they each have a different story.

Three weeks before their one-year wedding anniversary, Chance and his wife, Camille, both 21, were in an auditorium in Spanish Fork. It was 5 a.m. and the sound of goodbye echoed off of the hardwood floors. The groups had been split into three so they could report for duty and load the bus. The sound of a whistle was their cue to leave.

The first whistle blew and they watched the other families cry and hang on until the last second. The first group of soldiers saluted and disappeared behind the scrunching doors of the bus. Fifteen minutes later the second whistle blew. Camille had a sister who was there to say goodbye to her and a husband. Her husband was in the second group. Chance and Camille watched this couple say goodbye and knew they would be doing the same thing in 15 minutes.

Chance put his arms around her backpack and hugged her through sobs until the whistle sounded. He stopped crying long enough to tell her he loved her and say goodbye, and then he turned her around toward the bus and watched her walk away.

"I get the divorce papers back this week," he said in October. "It should be final by Wednesday, hopefully."

Chance said this matter-of-factly and without a break in his voice. Suddenly it's ironic that his favorite John Wayne movie is about an estranged wife who wants to divorce her husband.

While serving her country in Iraq, Camille decided to end their marriage. It's hard for a marriage to feel over in a situation like this, though.

"I said goodbye in January," he said. "So it hasn't hit me yet, I don't think. I think I'm still saying goodbye."
With limited communication on email and no phone calls, goodbye may never fully come.

"I have no clue what happened. Everything was perfect, or so I thought. When she first got there she didn't write me any letters or call me for a month."

He talked to her sister about it to see if maybe she wasn't getting any letters from her husband either. He was writing faithfully. Before he could get any answers the letters started coming. "Then everything was normal and fine again. Then she just one day said, ëThat's it.'"

An email came telling him to get off her bank and email accounts, remove himself from her power of attorney and get the divorce started. No explanation, no apology. He tried to work it out the best he could through electronic mail, and then he did what she said. He didn't have a choice because she wouldn't write back and she wouldn't call. After all this, he isn't mad at her.

"She left me, I didn't leave her. I still love her. The more I talk to her though, she's just not the same person. The war has done bad things to her over there. It's like she died to me. She is a different person," he said.

Camille is one of four women in a company of 200 men. Although she isn't in the path of bullets of combat, she is helping to rebuild the cities and morale of Iraq. She works with other soldiers in building schools and other city buildings, and working with the people to run those offices. Chance received a letter in the mail from her commander telling him of all the good things happening over there and he should be proud of her. Camille's commanding officer said the Iraqi people love the soldiers and have progressed 40 years since they got there. Chance is optimistic about the war and believes that America should be there. That Camille should be there.

"If I had this to do all over again, I would. It's worth it. I lost her to a good cause."

Even though Hayes will not be participating in the homecoming he had planned, he still believes in marriage and that a marriage can be a life line if you want it to be.

"Marriage can last through this. It is a stressful situation, but when it comes down to it, it was her choice."

She chose to not be married anymore. She told me I was an obstacle in her day-to-day life and I wasn't needed anymore because she is a soldier now."

Not all marriages affected by war are told as tragedies. Some marriages are romance stories and have hope for a happy ending.

Mandy Lund's marriage is an example of the latter, but it is still being tested by the war in Iraq. Her husband, Erick, is in Texas and is training to go to Iraq later this year. She lives in his parents' basement so she can continue her education at Utah State University until Erick gets home and they can have a home of their own.

At least her belongings stay in the basement. Her nights have been full of nightmares since Erick left, so she sleeps upstairs in a room that used to be occupied by Erick's sister.

"It's hard being alone in the place you used to sleep together. I don't like it," she said. She scrunches her nose in distaste and shakes her head.

The couch downstairs partially blocks the view into the couple's bedroom. You can still see the pile of unopened wedding gifts. She said they haven't used them because they haven't been in their own home.

A note in pink lipstick, written in manly all-caps, lingers on the bathroom mirror that says, "I love my Mandy!" A bubble-letter reply is scribbled underneath it saying, "I love my Erick!" They were engaged for six days when they got married. They had received the news that he would be reporting for duty in May. It was March and they had just gotten engaged. Their scheduled wedding date was after his deployment date, so they knew they had to change something.

"I knew I loved him," she said with that kind of dreamy look that someone in love will sporadically get. "I can't imagine loving anyone else but him. He was being sent to a place that is dangerous and being trained to kill. I wanted to know that no matter what, we would be able to be together forever."

Less than one week later, they were Mr. and Mrs. Erick Lund. Because of the unpredictability of the Army that they have come to know so well, Erick didn't leave until July. The army changed the reporting date three times.

"That was the hardest part for us. We started our life together just for it to be put on hold. We wanted the process to begin so it could end."

After a parade and the formal military goodbye, Erick flashed their secret love sign -- which must remain a secret between them -- so she would know it was him among the other camouflaged loved ones, walking up the platform onto the plane. She waved her American flag and got to work comforting the other families who had sent the ones they love to war.

For a while it was hard to even remember they were married. She would walk on campus and have to remind herself that she had a husband he was just gone for a while. Most couples have time together when they are newlyweds to figure out little things about each other and get used to the idea. Mandy doesn't regret not having that time. She said their relationship has a stronger foundation than it might have developed if he had stayed. They express their love in the romantic ways of old that only lovers like Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning understood.

"All we have is our words, whether over the phone or on paper, and so it's helped our communication a lot. When we're not working at this as a team, it gets really hard. So we have learned to be strong together and it will help us for the rest of our lives."

Erick leaves for Iraq in December. He said he is ready to go and knows that good things will happen when he gets there. He is glad that this is happening now, and he wants to get into Iraq and finish what the armed force started. He doesn't want to go in there, make things chaotic, and then leave the country in disarray. He is eager to continue the good work, and then return home to his wife.

"I am grateful that Erick can be a part of this," she said. "The good things outweigh the bad things. Even though it stinks to be apart, it's a huge adventure."

She knows their marriage will last. She said she can't think of the time that he has left because it's suffocating. He has more time left in Iraq than all the time they have known each other. Hearing news of soldiers' death makes her heart ache but she makes a conscious effort to be hopeful because Erick loves the Army and loves what he does. He said that this experience has weathered him, but given him depth. Made him more vulnerable, but given him strength. Caused him and Mandy to move apart, but grow together.

Mandy looks forward to her husbands' homecoming next December but until then, the flag with a star in the center will remain in their window, and the frame on her license plate will read, "Army Wife."

MS
MS

Copyright 1997-2004 Utah State University Department of Journalism & Communication, Logan UT 84322, (435) 797-1000
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