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Jewish World Review Sept. 5, 2008 / 5 Elul 5768 Fort ushers outsiders into different world By Lori Borgman
http://www.JewishWorldReview.com |
The security officer at Fort Riley has a neck the size of a mature redwood and a voice to match. "WELCOME TO BIG RED ONE!"
For the husband and me, this is our first time "on post" as they say at the Army's First Infantry Division. We show IDs, vehicle registration and proof of insurance. We must also state our business. Our daughter leans forward to tell security we are dropping her off at an FRG meeting at the Conference Center.
They speak a language all their own here. FRG means family readiness group (families within a unit that support one another), ACU means Army combat uniform, families shop at the PX and MPs will get you for driving while talking on a cell.
Oh, and if someone mentions a full bird, don't scan the sky, it means there is a colonel in the vicinity.
Security approves our entry and shouts, "DUTY FIRST!" We ease on to a smooth two-lane and enter a parallel world.
Fort Riley blankets a swath of beautiful prairie known as the Kansas Flint Hills. The wind is always blowing, but it is more stinging than soothing. As our son-in-law who is stationed here noted, "It's like a blow dryer pointed directly at your face." Scraggly cottonwoods provide the only relief from the blistering sun.
Our road takes us by schools, a day care, the hospital, a skating rink, a quick mart, several gas stations and soccer fields. It seems like any other community, and then the ground rumbles from distant artillery fire serving as a reminder that those were not ordinary strip malls and we are far from the burbs.
Railroad tracks that transported troops and artillery in World War II wind through the fort. Long lines of flatbed cars will carry trucks, tanks and armored vehicles to be shipped out for the next deployment.
New barracks are under construction. Each one looks like a Comfort Inn with no signage and a neutral palette.
Small row houses with narrow front yards constitute family housing. Some have tall fences to accommodate dogs, others have plastic play toys, or a picnic table and a Weber grill.
Nearly all the women shopping at the commissary have squirming children in tow. They are so very young — both the mothers and the kids. A sign declares an average savings of 32 percent by shopping here. A pack of boneless chicken breasts sells for $3. A good deal — or a small perk for a big sacrifice.
The military spills beyond the boundaries of the fort and into the college town of Manhattan, Kan. Every parking lot is dotted with vehicles displaying red and blue Fort Riley stickers in the front windshield. License plates are from Texas, Missouri, Alabama, New York, North Carolina and Alaska. And then there are the bumper stickers: I (heart) My Soldier; Army Wife, and Half My Heart is in Iraq.
Young men from Kansas State load up on junk food in the same Wal-Mart aisle as young men in uniform fresh from a tour of Iraq.
You cannot buy a hamburger or grab an ice cream cone in this town without encountering someone in camo and boots. They are the living, breathing reminders that their rhythm of life makes our rhythm of life possible. They are our backbone, the ones who do the hard work of war while the rest of us are at home fluffing the cushions.
It is good to be reminded, because we can so easily forget.
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JWR contributor Lori Borgman is the author of , most recently, "Pass the Faith, Please" (Click HERE to purchase. Sales help fund JWR.) and I Was a Better Mother Before I Had Kids To comment, please click here. To visit her website click here.
© 2008, Lori Borgman
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Arnold Ahlert | |||||||||||
