by Bruce George
***
Sherry, Mike’s wife, had passed away nineteen years after Desert Storm. She had been his rock for most of his adult life. Being the wife of a career Army enlisted man was a challenge for any woman. When he was on deployment, the long periods were hard on both of them. To stay busy, she had gone back to college and earned a degree in history, and then began teaching at a local high school.
For a while, she made more money than he did. That wasn’t entirely true, because of the benefits of being able to live on base and having the use of the Post Exchange and medical services. It all added up to a nice package, if only the soldier didn’t have to go on deployment.
They wanted children; but being prudent about the expense of raising a child, they waited until he made corporal to even try. By the time Sherry became pregnant, he had just made sergeant. At the time of Wayne’s birth, she was thirty years old and Mike was thirty two. Having a first child, at an age older than most Army couples, made no difference to either of them. Their little boy was the apple of daddy’s eye and Sherry adored the boy and doted over him as much as she could.
Some wives made it very clear they didn’t want their sons or daughters to join the army. But Sherry was Army all the way, God bless her. She bought a tiny set of camos and had Wayne’s picture taken in them and sent him the picture. He proudly carried it with him all through Ranger School. That ordeal had been a real bitch, at his age, but he made it and was extremely proud to wear the shoulder patch.