Several years ago, when my oldest son Oliver was about half way through college, he called me one day to say hello. He also gave me an oh by the way, I’ve decided to join the Army because I’ve decided I want to be an Army Ranger.

To say that I was shocked would be a gross understatement. I almost dropped the phone just as my knees buckled. Sitting down, I reminded him that he was in the middle of college. I’m sure he was aware of that. He informed me that he was going take a little hiatus and after the army he would go back to finish his degree. He also threw in the benefit that he would have the Gi Bill to help pay for it.  As my somewhat controlled arguments were attempting to form among my shock and confusion, Oliver informed me that it was a done deal, he had already signed up and was reporting for duty in one month.

And he did. After much hard work, he made it into Ranger school. It takes thousands of troops trying out for every Ranger who makes it and gets his tab. The requirements just to get into the school are grueling.

He was in Ranger school when 911 happened and went ahead and became an Airborne Army Ranger. We went to the impressive ceremony where they demonstrate their skills and his brother had the honor of pinning on his tab. 

He then served tours in Pakistan, Afghanistan and Baghdad. 

I never appreciated how hard it is on not just the soldiers, but the families of our soldiers when they are serving our country. The unknown is brutal. When the doorbell rings, your knees buckle. The thought of seeing the men in uniform standing at your door when you open it is paralyzing, knowing you can’t ever turn back the clock. When you hear of casualties you have panic attacks. Sometimes you don’t hear from your soldier for months.

I spent hours on my knees praying at the altar and the other hours on my lanai smoking cigarettes and drinking wine, or whatever, with Toby Keith blasting that we were going to put a boot in their ass Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue.

While he was there, he called me one day and told me a sad story about a close friend of his. His name was Tommy. When this young man told his mother that he was being deployed, she disowned him. She completely cut off their relationship. Perhaps she just couldn’t handle it.

I routinely sent care packages to Oliver, but this mother didn’t send so much as a letter. To make matters worse, she refused his phone calls when he called home. Oliver was heartbroken for him and asked if I would adopt him. Say no more! I wrapped my loving arms around him long distance, wrote him letters and sent him care packages along with Oliver’s. Packages full of homemade brownies, bread, peanut butter and jelly, cigars, toiletries and much more. I also solicited care packages from the people I worked with, packaged them, took them to the post office and mailed them. They knew they were loved and most of all, appreciated. It was a tough time for soldiers. The country was demonstrating and the only thing they heard on the media was that they weren’t supported. I sent them stories that showed all of the love and support they really had.

After a long year in Pakistan and Afghanistan he was sent home in one piece. Praise the Lord.  I took my youngest son, Oliver’s little brother, and we were at the base with the other families when their plane landed. There was tremendous excitement and welcome home signs everywhere. These loved ones couldn’t wait to see their soldiers again. Including me. Then we saw the speck in the sky of the plane from far away. I screamed. “There they are!” The crowd went wild! The huge plane taxied up to the hangar and then did a 180 on a dime. We were in awe. It was interesting to watch them as they got off the plane after an excruciatingly long journey in its belly. We waited for what seemed like hours and then we saw them. What a beautiful sight. They each had to step in a disinfectant as they stepped off the plane before stepping foot on American soil. They then got in formation and marched to the hangar where the families were anxiously awaiting.

After a little welcome home speech, they were dismissed.  The tears of joy and cheers were overwhelming as they proudly marched into the hangar. Everyone was clapping and cheering.  I’ve never been so happy to see anything as I was to see his beautiful smiling face. After the hugs and more hugs, Oliver told me that there was someone who wanted to meet me. He took me over to this beautiful big smiling guy in uniform and said Tommy, this is my mom. Tommy, my adopted soldier, lit up with a gorgeous smile, warmly shook my hand and in the most charming southern accent said, “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you mam.”

Soon after, Oliver bought a townhome where he was stationed in Fort Bragg. He then came home for the holidays. During that visit he kept saying he wanted to take a lot of pictures and I suspected something was up. Just before he left, he told me that his group of Rangers were being deployed to Baghdad even though they had only been stateside for a few months. They had to replace a group of soldiers there who weren’t trained as Rangers and didn’t have the skills to do the job. My heart sank. I saved the empty beer can he drank just before he left. It was like my security blanket. I still have it.

Fortunately, my prayers were answered, and Oliver came home safely. Sadly, there were many who didn’t. I was there for that homecoming as well and it was equally as glorious, but not without a scare. The day they were supposed to fly out, there was a breech of confidentiality by a soldier who told his family via phone when they were leaving. This is taken very seriously. The enemy can listen in to phone calls and take down a whole plane of soldiers as they take off.  I don’t know what happened to the guilty party, but their departure had to be rescheduled for safety reasons. They made it out of there shortly thereafter.

He then finished his commitment to the army, turned down their offer to try out for Delta, and rejoined the civilian world. I quit smoking.

Shortly after he got out, he was at my house and got a phone call from his army buddies in Afghanistan. His best buddy Nixon had been killed in action. I could feel his pain. 

He flew to Nixon’s home town and went to the funeral. His family, as devastated as they were, said he died doing what he loved. Fighting for this country.

 

                                                                                 Oliver did go back to college and became a Mechanical Engineer. His years of military service served him well, but it did change him. He saw and lived things none of us ever want to see. He grew up. Became a responsible man who sees the world differently now. He has a great sense of humor, is loving and kind, but he doesn’t have time for the petty nonsense, demands and lack of appreciation for what we have. He is intolerant of attitudes of entitlement. He loves and respects our country and those who fought to make it great and safe, and those who paid the ultimate price.  Like some of his friends. He honors them. And he has the utmost respect for our flag and those who died for her.

Rangers are an exceptional group of men. Our country’s finest. Those who earn the patch, wear it proudly. They respect it and take their Creed seriously. Everyone should read it. They are respected by others. I was told by a State Senator who was in the Army that when the Rangers enter a  room, others step back and let them through out of respect.

After Oliver got home, he was asked to make speeches for several organizations. He didn’t mince words. He’s not a politician. He’s a soldier. He was asked to do some interviews with newspapers as well. When asked by one reporter, “What was your greatest accomplishment SS,” my son looked him squarely in the face like he had two heads and simply replied, “I brought all of my men home alive, Sir.” 

This is Oliver front right with his squad he trained and led that he was referring to. These soldiers wear up to 200 lb of gear in temperatures up to 130 degrees. Notice how red their faces are. When you see a soldier, thank them.

I didn’t find out until a few years later when I met some of his comrades and his commanding officer just how blessed we were that he survived. I was told that I had no idea what kind of a man he was. He put his life on the line multiple times to save theirs. Oliver rarely talked about the bad things he went through over there. He was always very protective. But from the little I’ve heard it was hell. God was with him. He called me one day from there and told me to not ever doubt that there was a God. They were trapped in a situation and they knew there was no way out. I asked him if they really thought they were going to die. He said no, they knew they were going to die. Then a miracle happened. He didn’t go into a lot of detail but said that God had created a true miracle and there was no other explanation.

I’m very proud of my son and all of our soldiers. I don’t think I appreciated them or their families enough until my son was a soldier and we experienced it.

Today, I never see a man or woman wearing a military uniform or veteran’s cap without walking over to them, no matter where they are, shaking their hand and thanking them for their service. Each and every time, they hesitate with a surprised look on their face before they realize what I’m doing, and then humbly say you’re welcome mam. That’s sad. They shouldn’t be surprised.

One day after Oliver got out of the Army, he told me a story about driving by a small rural restaurant that had a tattered flag flying out in front of it. He stopped and talked to the owner about that flag, and that inspired me to write this poem below, Thanks To Our Country’s Best. Thank you to all of our active military, veterans and their families. We honor you. You are appreciated.

Travis this is for you and those who made the ultimate sacrifice. You are why we Celebrate Independence Day.