First Person - March 2010
Hannah writes about how it feels for the family when someone is deployed overseas.
(This article is not about defence policy in anyway it is about how it feels for the family when someone is deployed. I have deliberately given very little information about David’s role etc for security reasons.)
One weekend down, 39 to go. A new timeline in my life has started: counting down the weeks to David coming home. Last Thursday my husband started a nine month operational tour of Iraq. David is a specialist in the Royal Navy and, as a result, most of his jobs in recent years have been working in Tri-service and MOD roles. With only two and a half years before he is due to retire, an operational tour was completely unexpected. It is the first time we have had to go through this.
We found out about the tour at the end of November and told his children just before Christmas. Since January David has had a very tight training and deployment schedule and the time just seemed to evaporate. I had never appreciated how tense it gets in the run up to deployment. First, David wanted to get all the jobs he had planned for this year done in the ten weekends we had together this year. The balance of spending “quality” time as a family against getting the bathroom finished was not an easy one. David had to resist the urge to get everything perfect for us while he was away and simply enjoy time with his family; but he did get our community chicken coop finished which I think made him feel at least one big part of the 2010 plan was completed. I guess David wanted to know nothing practical around the house would need doing while he is away and I suspect part of the tension came from the fear of what I might do in his absence. More handy neighbours are now well briefed not to let me too near any of his tools! I had forgotten how dependant I am on David in the house. We had to go through practical things that I just did not realise I do not know how to do; David usually does them. The sudden realisation of how closely a day to day partnership works makes me appreciate David more than ever.
The weekend before deployment was incredibly tense. I had kept my diary completely clear and we agreed with David’s daughters, no friends or sleepovers. We would “just do” stuff together. Of course you try to be as outwardly normal and happy as you can but it was really hard. The girls knew it was harder for their Dad if they showed any upset. The tension of hiding your sense of sadness or worry was evident. But the girls were brilliant and, while it was always going to be a hard time, we did have a great weekend.
Most of last few days were spent in chaos. David had to move out of the accommodation from his previous job and prepare for the tour. We spent one night away on our own together, which was an enforced break and an important time for having those conversations you need to have in this situation. David has two words in general to most things: “No fuss”, so that was my main task.
David and I said our goodbyes on Thursday morning here in Exeter. I am glad it is protocol not to take him to Brize Norton; I think it would have been unbearable. It was harder than I could have imagined. Despite all the build up and genuinely believing this is an important job and he is the right man to do it, the farewell physically hurt.
David is not attached to a Battalion or Ship’s Company and has not been for some time. The supporting role that a Regiment or Base often plays, is not something I could experience. I suspect had we been at Devonport after the goodbyes the other halves would have a plan of action. But I had mine made for me by the visit by David Cameron to Exeter on Thursday and a heavy diary of appointments in the afternoon. I tried my best to obey with David’s instructions: “No fuss”.
When I got home after an evening meeting, I decided to bite the bullet and sorted out all the chaos of kit, tidying and washing. Hardest of all was putting away all David’s clothes and knowing that he will not wear most of them until 2011. Everyday something is there that gives you that twinge of sadness and pride. Today it was one of the hymns from our wedding in the Palm Sunday service at the Cathedral. The lack of regular communication with David is tough; it could be weeks before I can talk to him but email has made life easier.
But another source of pride is that I am not alone in these feelings. Thousands of families are going through this. Our Forces are more deployed that they have been at any time since the 50s. For many of our local Royal Marine families tours are happening less than two years apart. David is unusual in having a long nine month deployment and therefore will probably not be home until January. He may have some R’n’R but of course we have no details of that at this stage. We have some important dates in the diary that I hope he may get home for, but time will tell if that is possible. The goodbye was so painful the first time, I don’t know if it will get any easier.
I believe I could have a unique status of the first Forces wife to be elected to Parliament. Life right now would be much easier if there were not the fact of my husband being on an operational tour. That said, if I am to represent this City and also stand up for Forces Families then I would feel a bit of a fraud of a “service wife” having not gone through this enforced separation.
David signed up aged 17, and he has now served for 30 years with time in both the Army and the Navy. Like all our Service men and women, rarely will you know what they may have achieved as individuals; the risks David and all like him take daily are unknown to us, and not generally reported in the media. The work he has done, and is doing will have a legacy for good for years to come. Yet during the upcoming election campaign, I and others, for far less bravery and courage, will get reported. In six weeks I may or may not be Exeter’s MP planning to change this country for the better. It will take years to tell what my legacy may be, if any. It is with that recognition that I am immensely proud of David and believe that any of my achievements are pale in comparison to his. Like most service families I am completely humbled by my husband and all those who put their life on the line to keep us safe.
