Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS writer
Where do I start my story? I guess I think I am just one of many mothers sending there children to foreign places, so what makes me or my story so special? Probably nothing but here is my story anyway!
My youngest, my son, went off to Iraq, I remember the call, he was so excited to tell me he was off on his first deployment! Gee Son thats awesome I remember saying. Off the phone all I could think of was gosh my baby is going to a war zone. To justify it was all normal and just a job, I reminded myself of my time in the RAAF I was at war! Ah but Debra it was the cold war, very different to front line Iraq. How do I rationalise this event when its my son?
The time came for his farewell and we were ever so proud and Facebook was at the ready so we could communicate but he warned me: Mum do not put anything controversial up or I will ban you! We both laughed but I knew he meant it! Be good on Facebook Debra, be good on Facebook Debra, kept going through my head.
Days went by as he travelled to Bagdad and I began the worrying. I kept telling myself I was an idiot. Finally a message on skype! God how much I love technology now. It must have been dreadful being a mother in the two world wars waiting for months for a letter of some sort or a sign your sons were alive and well.
Skype became my best friend and each night I would wait for the contact but as with all young 18 year old boys skyping mum was not necessarily a priority. Stupid thoughts would pop into my head like “please don’t let a white commonwealth car drive in the drive. ” I knew in reality that these days communications is blacked out so that families would know first and a call would be forthcoming from the padre but it doesn’t stop the irrational thinking.
Then hallelujah a skype call albeit at 3am in the morning but like all mums I never missed a call and lay awake every night just hoping to hear all was ok!
Think a call calms the air? Well think again, during many a skype call there would be bells ringing. “whats that I would say” “For gods sake mum its just letting us know what time it is” always so calm and matter of fact “but I better just check” off he would toddle. I was later to find that those bells were rocket attack alarms and they were scrambling to safety.
Three months and he was home and after a short three months “hey mum guess what I am really lucky I am off to the middle east.” Groan!!! Here we go again.
I believe my children are trying to kill me! Over the following three years my daughter joined the RAAF and deployed to Pakistan flood assist followed by a deployment to the Middle East operations so for 4 years one or the other of my children was deployed into dangerous situations.
So how so you crack a tough nut? Send her children to war!
To find out if they returned home safe and sound you will have to wait for the book!
Twitter: debtape