REFLECTIONS OF A MARINE’S MOTHER BY MARTY Ellard
 
During October 2002, while returning to the States from our 3-year tour in Okinawa, Japan, my Marine husband David, 16-year-old son Adam, 14-year-old daughter Danie, and I took a mid-trip, lay-over vacation in Hawaii. We took a crowded, noisy, ferry ride to the USS Arizona Memorial, where Sailors and Marines are entombed at the bottom of Pearl Harbor , where the Japanese surprise attack sent them and their ship. People were talking, children were yelling, wind was blowing and the boat was chugging along until we arrived. As we stepped off the ferry onto the Memorial, it suddenly became quiet as a funeral. Everyone was looking around, especially at plaques, markers and a replica of the USS Arizona, in complete silence at this viewing. Not one sound was heard from the large group, not even from the children. As we walked, you could feel the presence of the fallen Sailors and Marines. As I stood in front of a wall filled with the many names of the lost, I felt for the mothers of the fallen servicemen, prayed for each of them. Despite my support of my husband’s career, this was one of those moments when I hoped our son did not follow in his father’s footsteps. ~ Adam was 18 years old when he came to us one day in November 2004 to tell us he was joining the Marine Corps. He told us that he was leaving in February. He had about 20 pounds to lose in three months. Although I was very proud of him for his decision, I thought and hoped that by then he would get his good sense back and change his mind. At his age he didn’t stick to anything for very long. When I saw his determination and commitment to losing the weight I knew he was going to join the Marines. My husband and I talked to him about other alternatives. We wanted him to consider all his options. He had recently lost his full time pre-construction job because of hurricanes slowing down construction. We told him that besides going into the Corps he could go to college full time, go to work full time, go to school part time and work part time, or he could go into one of the other branches of service, but that he should consider all of his options. “I’ve been in the Marine Corps for 18 years, what’s four more?” he answered. “I cannot see myself in any service but the Marines.” He indicated that he was joining the service because, “I’m tired of the rules at home and I don’t want to go to school or be told what to do.” Of course, we laughed. We knew that the Marines were going to send him to school and give him more rules than he ever had before. Being a Marine would be much different than being the dependent family member of a Marine. One positive thought was that he would understand his father even better than before, once he had experienced the Marine Corps firsthand as a Marine. I mentally prepared myself for him to join and go off to war. Because he was joining during war time, he probably would go during his four year enlistment. I prayed and focused on being strong for Adam. He went into Marine boot camp on February 14, 2005. I don’t remember much more about that Valentine’s Day, possibly because I got up at zero-dark-thirty and possibly because I was in a state of shock. The three months he was in boot camp were hard. Through many letters we communicated, but not hearing his voice was the toughest. In our letters we talked about what was going on at home and at boot camp. We did receive one phone call from him; it was on Easter Sunday. I said “Hello.” Adam started to cry. I asked, “Why are you so upset?” I thought maybe he had failed a physical fitness test or something. It was getting close to graduation and I knew a failure would cause a recruit to be recycled through more training and more days away from family. He said, “Just hearing your voice made me miss you more.” I said, “Everything’s gonna be fine.” I held back my tears through the five minute phone call until we said “Goodbye.” Then my tears streamed freely. He graduated from Parris Island on May 13, 2005. It brought back memories of David’s recruit graduation on January 28, 1986. Adam’s graduation was held outside on a hot, mid-May morning; unlike David’s, which was held inside a theater because it was so cold and snowing. Both were sharply performed ceremonies involving men in my life I loved. Adam was at both as I was eight months pregnant with him at the time. Nineteen years after David’s graduation, my nineteen year old son was now a Marine. I was the proudest Mom there but still fearing for Adam and his fellow Marines. He then went to follow on training in North Carolina for infantry training that all Marines go through. Every Marine is a basic rifleman. After that, he went to Camp Johnson for his military occupational specialty (MOS) school. In October of 2005 he graduated as a diesel mechanic and was stationed at Camp Lejeune, also in North Carolina. About a year later we learned that Adam would be leaving for Iraq in January of 2007. I told myself, “That’s months away.” So I just didn’t think about it much. Sometimes denial is bliss. David, Danie and I went to see Adam in October, 2006 to visit and talk about his preparations to go to Iraq. We talked about such things as power-of-attorneys. One thing we told him was not to let some casual friend or girlfriend be in charge of his finances and other personal affairs. He told us that there was no one special in his life; so, he would be putting his dad or my name on his power-of-attorney. The next month, Adam told us he was getting married to a local girl named Bridget. We were so stunned enough that we did not question this major turn of events. Sometimes denial is not bliss. We all went to North Carolina for the wedding, which took place on the 18th of November. This time ‘we’ included the three of us plus many other relatives. The weeks leading up to his wedding kept us busy. We had to make sure uniforms fit, get them cleaned and pressed and even bought Adam some new uniform items. We also had to locate the right restaurant and make rehearsal dinner reservations from six-hours away. We were counted on to make hotel reservations for ourselves and numerous other family-members who were coming from other states. Being this busy, I was again able to put his upcoming deployment out of my mind. Once all the work of the wedding was done and the big day had finished, we had to drive back to Ridgeland, South Carolina from Richlands North Carolina, a six-hour trip. On the drive home, while listening to “Letters From War” by Mark Schultz, the realization of Adam going off to Iraq in a couple months hit. I pulled the car over and got out. I felt like the worst mother in the world. It was like watching your child play in a busy intersection with cars racing all around him and just standing idly by. So what I had just given my son to a woman in marriage? I had already given my son to the Marine Corps and they were about to send him to Iraq. How could I possibly allow this? Not that I had much of a choice. I was just Mom. I couldn’t overrule the Marine Corps. Adam left on January 6, 2007. It was a hard day. All I could think about all day was Adam, wondering if he was as afraid or nervous as I was. I felt like a bad mom because I was not there to see him off to Iraq. We had spent three days with Adam the weekend before he left but then we went home. It was not my suggestion but others that kept me away. David and my dad thought it would be best if I left when they had to return to work and home. If I had stayed to be with Adam, I would be there by myself when he left and I would not be able to stop crying to be supportive of him. I didn’t want Adam to worry about me. He had enough to worry about. I was mad at David and Dad for talking me out of staying, but deep down I must have thought the same thing because I usually do what I want to do. When we all spent the weekend with Adam before he left for Iraq, I tried not to think about him leaving but was just kidding myself. David, Danie, Adam and I had a great time being together that weekend. When the time came for us to leave, the waterworks started. I tried to not let Adam see me cry, but that was impossible. We said our goodbyes or see-you-laters and we started our six-hour journey home. It was the longest six hours of my life. I cried all the way home. David didn’t know what to do with me. I still think if I had asked for a pony that night he would have given me one. The first few months of Adam’s twelve-month tour were the hardest. We didn’t hear from him except when he couldn’t reach his wife Bridget. She was going to call me every time she talked to Adam but it didn’t work out that way. He did call the day of his first convoy in Iraq. He didn’t say much and when I asked how it was. The only thing he would say was, “Everyone made it back alive.” I just let it go at that because I could tell he didn’t want to talk about it. Later I learned just why he didn’t offer any details and I was very grateful that he hadn’t. I would have gone crazy worrying if I had known that he almost got killed - if not for a fellow Marine intervening. Adam was in Iraq for a full year. The days crawled by but he finally did return on January 19, 2008. David, Danie and I were there when he arrived. The icy rain fell and we didn’t care. I had my son back, sort of. He was so different when he came back. His time in Iraq had changed him forever.