By Tomas M. Figueroa
In 2003, following the completion of my initial six years of Ready Reserve duty, I was waiting on transfer orders to be placed on Inactive Reserve status (this is when you have an obligation with the Army Reserves, but does not require monthly participation or annual trainings—you’re essentially on standby and called upon only if needed).
It was a decision I came to the year before, shortly after my first daughter was born. She was the most precious thing that I had ever been gifted, and I wanted to mark every occasion and milestone with her and my wife. That plan soon changed when I was informed in February that my unit was being called up for active duty (this is when a unit is moved from reserve status to active duty status).
The stage was already being set for war within Iraq, an invasion was imminent. Two of our platoons were quickly relocated to our Mobilization Station in Ft. McCoy, Wisconsin. I was shifted to the third platoon, which was composed of new soldiers, many untrained, and some were transferees from other units.
After a few days of preparations at our home station, I was unexpectedly informed that my unit could not produce my orders for this mission. Apparently, my transfer orders were lingering in some personnel office. So technically, I was no longer part of my unit. My Platoon Sergeant gazed at me with disconcerting eyes, wanting to know my intentions. I fully sensed that she had hoped she could count on my leadership experience in this critical juncture.
My mind quickly appraised the options. As one of the few experienced enlisted remaining, I felt compelled to be where I was most needed, and I knew what this would mean for my family. Despite the will to do the opposite tugging at me, I verbally agreed to serve. I couldn’t contest it, as if I had this inclination a higher power produced this order, one far above mortal men, and, though I didn’t know it at the time, He would soon reveal His purpose for me.
I soon found myself, along with my platoon, trapped at mobilization station for four months due to the bottleneck effect of rapid mobilization. Units were moving out so fast, that placement in country could not keep up. On the bright side, being deployed stateside was wonderful for communication efforts with loved ones. I was able to call home with a phone card or cell phone on my free time, and hop on my laptop at night after business hours. I was able to email, chat, and text my wife and family as if they were just down the street from me.
By May, there was talk that the war would quickly end and expectations that we would be released from duty without being sent to the box (the Middle East operational area). I couldn’t help but share this possibility with my wife, but it proved to be a mistake, as it made it more difficult to reveal to her when I learned that I was in fact being shipped to the Middle East. I didn’t know where, and I didn’t know how long. All I knew was that the distance was great and the region was not any calmer.
We finally shipped out and landed in Kuwait in a transient location. After a few days we were relocated to more permanent accommodations (an open bay in a warehouse hosting hundreds of bunk beds). The camp was well developed with a few shops and an internet café, albeit, we had to pay a ridiculous fee to use the internet. I didn’t mind. I was just happy to finally be able to access a computer to check my email and contact my wife. Among a few of the messages my wife had sent during the time we were out of communication she wrote:
“Happy Father’s Day from your Babies. We wished that we’re together spending some special time. But even if you’re away from us, you’re always in our hearts, our minds, our prayers. We hope that you’re okay, and we will be seeing each other very soon……… Babe, I just wanna know if you’re okay there. I know it’s a little bit hard to surf the net there. But I know you will always find a way to get in contact with us. I’m not really worried but just wondering what is going on.”
It was immediately evident that our communication ability kept our relationship strong despite the distance. Who would have thought that transferring ones thoughts via keystrokes on the keyboard and digitally transmitting it would communicate nearly the same emotion as a face to face conversation or even a hand written letter?
Before I began writing this post, I read through many of the emails my wife and I saved during the time I was stationed in the Middle East. I’m reminded of history, and how once in a while one would stumble onto a box of old letters and read through memories, reveling in them. With all the variety of communication methods available to us today, we have a plethora of them at our fingertips, leaving no excuse not to communicate.
But I can’t help but recall the number of soldiers who would rather use their free time to escape the environment by bonding with each other, playing games, listening to music, working out, or just keeping to themself. They didn’t want to pick up the phone or write a letter or email and be reminded of just how far they are from the one they love. For some, the distance and inability to communicate, by both technical and emotional means, led to many broken relationships. As a soldier waiting in line to use the phone next, you can’t help but overhear the arguments, the tears, and the frustration in being helpless so many miles away.
Communication is certainly no easy feat, especially as it is expounded across the miles. The book of Psalms in the Bible reminds us in chapter 19:14, that through the strength of God, we can prepare our hearts and mind to communicate as the KJV text reads, “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Your sight, O Lord, my strength and Redeemer.”
It’s difficult at times, even though you miss them terribly … the sound of their voice, as they reveal the issues they are going through and you helplessly listen or the joys they share, and you painfully wish you could be there to share. These feelings are vital to morale, and at the same time detrimental, so we often seek to avoid them, but instead, we need to realize that we must treasure these moments. Allowing yourself to forgo communicating with the one you love is immensely damaging to the relationship.
When I was first deployed in my early career in the Army reserves, back in 1997, times were different, communication options were limited. I had just started dating my girlfriend (now my wife of today), and I was called up immediately following my initial training. I looked forward to reaching out to her at any chance I could get. During this time there was one location with a computer to be used to send email, and you’d have to wait in line hoping the guy ahead of you abides by the 15 minute rule. And once you get on, you feel the constraints of the 15 minute time limit as you try to type your heart out to get whatever messages you have to those you love.
When communicating with a loved one thousands of miles away, every occasion for communication should be taken purely as an opportunity to create a lasting memory. One must remember, that effective communication starts with I, as in oneself. For starters, consider the letter or word “I.” It can be written or typed in a matter of microseconds, and yet, it has a lasting and meaningful capacity in our language. We use it to show personal ownership or identity, and it allows us to be vulnerable for that microsecond, providing that moment where we offer ourselves to someone else.
Think about the technological behemoth Apple, and how they innovated the way in which we communicate with technology. The company realized the power of “I,” and integrated it into their product lines, yet we as a society look for ways to remove “I” from our everyday communication. We say “sorry” or “miss you” and often are amiss in what the other person takes to heart. Instead of using the typical “sorry” or “miss you,” insert the “I” where it belongs and say, “I am sorry,” “I miss you,” or “I love you.” Try it. You will soon see that this one letter has the capability of making your communication more meaningful and memorable.
This Memorial Day, let’s not just think about the ongoing war, but let’s think about those who have sacrificed so much. Let’s not memorialize the war, but instead memorialize the people who have selflessly served and the loved ones who have selflessly shared their loved one for these missions. Remind them how much you appreciate them and appreciate the communication outlets available to reach out to them. Communication bridges the heart. And even if those bridges have been damaged or been withdrawn, make the attempt to build them once again.
Tomas Figueroa served eight years in the U.S. Army Reserves, two and a half years of which were on active duty, serving in Hungary in 1997-98 during Operation Joint Guard, a peace keeping mission in the Bosnia region, and in 2003-04 in Kuwait and Iraq during Operation Iraqi Freedom. Following his completion of active duty, Tomas went on to achieve a BA in Communications and Radio-TV-Film at California State University, Fullerton and an MBA at Brandman University. Presently Tomas resides in Irvine, California with his wife, Joy, and their five children. With a passion for writing, he is currently developing a creative writing workshop for veterans.
Thank you!!!!