It starts with a single memory.
Friends,
We’ve dived into the series ‘Band of Brothers’ this past week. A fascinating series. Wonderfully made. Thoroughly researched. There are a few big ‘historic’ mistakes, but overall, I would give it a 95% success rate at doing a good job and presenting an overall picture. Not to mention it brings home what service members experienced in WW2.
Do you want to know what war is? It’s that. It’s spending 95% of your time moving where someone else tells you to move and praying that you don’t die.
The thing that bothers me is how well everyone remembers what it was like. I don’t remember everything. Shouldn’t I? Maybe if people start giving a crap about the ‘Global War on Terror’ like we do about the other wars, someone would trigger my memories?
But that’s not how society works. No one is going to talk about 2001-2023. Correction, we just lost five more this year, so let’s move that up to 2024. No, we don’t do that. We don’t talk about it when the people with the stories are still alive. It’s too uncomfortable. It’s too blunt. It’s too painful.
Because then the general population would have to accept the fact that there was a war going on while they sat at home and forgot about it.
So here’s my story. In all, it’s painful glory. This is not about a one-person show that saved an entire town with nothing more than a rifle, MRE, and a roll of duct tape. Nope, this is the story no one wants to talk about. No one wants to hear. The one that I am often reminded of that I shouldn’t have because…. bend in closer, I have a secret.
I’m a girl.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, in case you didn’t know, I am a middle-aged woman with a serious coffee addiction. And because of that, my war experience is generally not considered important enough to be remembered. At least that’s what my VA-appointed head doctor told me.
So, after a particularly devastating episode of ‘Band of Brothers,’ I’ve decided to write my memories. Maybe 30 years from now, when the last 23 years have found their way into the history books, someone will stumble across this blog and think to themselves- ‘Oh, shit. Maybe we missed something.’
Here’s my story. I was a mother of two small boys when the war started. Yes, I know that dates me, but that’s okay. I was not popular in my unit- usually more prone to staying home reading rather than going out to bars. I was not the fastest or the strongest- I have a concerning addiction to coffee and Oreos. I was very good at shooting.
But because I was quiet and didn’t really ‘fit in,’ it made it very easy to listen and stand in the shadows. And when you listen, you learn more than when you are in the center of the crowd.
Slowly I built myself a career when everyone else said I would fail. When everyone else looked past me, I was slowly passing them. Oh, I made mistakes. Plenty of them. Some of them still haunt me today. But I also had a good time. For the most part, I wouldn’t trade my time in the Army for anything.
But there are days when the memories claw at my soul, and I feel like I’m trapped in a neverending nightmare. Those days- death looks mighty appealing. But we’re not allowed to say that are we? That’s the biggest no-no.
This is not a tell-all. I won’t name names, but I will share situations from my perspective. And I will tell you how I came to the conclusion that for almost 21 years of my life, I was a number.
Expendable.
Forgotten.
Erased from the history books.
This is my story…
And it all started the day my dad took me to the recruiters.
Until tomorrow, my friends- Keep Reading and Stay Caffeinated.
If tales of legend, myth, and fantasy topped with a cup of coffee interest you, I suggest checking out my book, The Writer and the Librarian. It’s a historical fantasy about a middle-aged woman faced with a decision: accept what is written in the history books or find out for herself the truth behind the stories. Limited edition copies are now available on my website (Shop – R.L. Geer-Robbins / Author (rlgeerrobbins.com) or at
Amazon: https://a.co/d/flQhakX
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Current sales as of today= 115/1500
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