“I’m Gonna be a Soldier, Mom”

Tanner was the last kid on earth anyone would have expected to join the Military. Thrown out of gymnastics, Cub Scouts and even Bible Class, he was the type of child who just could not sit still or follow the crowd.

“Mom. I joined the Army National Guard. I leave in two weeks,” he announced one day in January of 2001. After the shock wore off, I thought, “Well, this is not a bad thing. He will learn discipline, get an education, will have to report one weekend a month and two weeks out of the year.”

That feeling only lasted until I found myself driving him to his recruiter’s office, and realizing that I had to say goodbye to him in a parking lot. He had it all arranged in his mind before we even arrived. I was to stay in the car while he transferred his packed duffle bag into the recruiter’s vehicle. One minute before he was to be driven away, I was allowed out of my car for a quick hug, overlapping words of  “I Love You,” and he was gone, never looking back.

Six agonizing weeks later, my brother and I drove straight through from CT to Fort Leonardwood, MO. There is something about seeing your soldier in uniform for the first time. It reminds you of a nurse handing you a newborn infant in a receiving blanket. You will never again, capture this moment. When my son walked across the stage, snapped to attention, and stated his name…time froze, as that moment burned itself into my mind, into my heart, forever.

We had two days together before Tanner had to report for AIT (Advanced Individual Training), and spent most of the time at a Days Inn in MO. Tanner wanted to eat, relax, watch TV and sleep…life’s little pleasures he had been denied since leaving home. I remember watching him as he fell asleep, one hand clutching his miniature Bible, and I saw an innocent little boy still playing with soccer balls and Matchbox cars. A quick 48 hours later, found us dropping off a soldier in his Class A Uniform. It was then that I noticed all traces of innocence were gone. He walked away, duffle bag over his shoulder, ready to report for AIT. Again, he never looked back.

The next time I saw my son, he was dressed in his BDU (Battle Dress Uniform) and combat boots. Back in CT, Tanner continued his full-time job, and I was the proud Mom of an Army National Guard Soldier. Soon, he decided he no longer wanted to be in the Guard; he wanted to join the Army full time, and would I write a letter to his CO requesting his release. At the time, I agreed, but he never pushed and I never wrote. Then, September 11th happened, and I no longer wanted to write the letter. Scared to death that he may actually be involved in what was going on, I prayed that he had changed his mind.

“Mom. I want to be a soldier. I’m going to enlist for three years. I need that letter.” I did as he requested, and with a great deal of reluctance, I wrote and mailed it two days later. I believed that not doing so, would go against everything America stood for.  Soon after, came Tanner’s Honorable Discharge from the Army National Guard and his assignment to Hunter Army Air Field in Savannah GA.

On short notice, Tanner was able to secure a ten-day leave, and without telling anyone, I managed to fly him home the day after Christmas. My son looked stunning, wearing his dress uniform as we went house-to-house, surprising family members and friends. While he was home on leave, he got his orders by phone. All I heard was, "When? Where? No s#*@!!! Wow!!!"...and I knew. I very calmly walked outside under the pretext of giving him privacy, and fell completely to pieces. Composing myself the best I could, I came back into the house to find him on the phone sharing the news with my brother, who apparently had asked how he felt about being deployed.

"I'm okay with it, but Mom doesn't look so hot. She's white as a ghost!" Tanner laughed, as he explained my sheet-white fear.

The hardest part was taking him to the airport...knowing that not only was he going back to GA after such a short leave, but also that he would be departing soon after…to a war that hadn't even started yet. I offered to fly down to see him off, and my son said, "Absolutely not!" I think he knew it would be more difficult for us to be face to face when he had to leave.

It was very hard to maintain my composure at the airport, and I managed a last hug, a last goodbye, and a smile as I walked away. That ended when I walked out the door. I remember crying hysterically, stumbling to the car, and once inside, pounding the steering wheel with my fist, until I heard a knock on my window. A State Trooper stood beside my car. I explained that I had just left my son and why. When I looked up, the trooper had tears in his eyes. He made me promise not to leave the parking lot until I felt I could drive. Had I followed his advice, I’d still be parked there.

Arlene R. O’Neil

© February 25, 2007