The soaring divorce rate among people in the military shows that returning to normal life after months at war can be a tough assignment. At MacDill, counseling, babysitting and cruises may make the transition easier.
By LETITIA STEIN
Published October 9, 2005
[Times photo: Daniel Wallace]
Ana and Lincoln Pitcher enjoy the view during a cruise on Tampa Bay arranged by MacDill. Lincoln recently returned from four months overseas.
TAMPA - Stepping off the shuttle at Tampa International Airport, Air Force Senior Airman Lincoln Pitcher scanned the waiting room for his wife and two daughters.
He expected his family to welcome him home after four months at war. But they weren't there. He had to borrow a cell phone to find out they had taken a wrong turn in the long-term parking lot.
Twenty minutes later, the reunion felt awkward.
"I did the hugs and kisses, but I don't know," Pitcher said. "You get used to being by yourself. And all of a sudden, there's your wife again."
In some ways, homecoming can be a soldier's toughest assignment. Parents return to children who don't remember them. Young soldiers resume strained marriages. Changes in family dynamics can test the strongest relationships.
The war in Iraq is taking a toll once the soldiers make it home. The divorce rate for Army officers has tripled since 2001. Across the nation, the military is pushing returning soldiers to schedule romantic rendezvous with significant others, and make play dates with children.
In Tampa, MacDill Air Force Base treats married couples to a sunset dinner cruise.
"Our goal is to help them go relax, look into each other's eyes, dance together," said chaplain Capt. Richard Holmes, the event's organizer. "We want this to help them rekindle their love lives."
* * *
On his way to a new home on base, Air Force Staff Sgt. David Brattain didn't know which way the car would turn. His house was the one with "Welcome Home Daddy" on the garage.
"It's like starting a new life," said the 21-year-old father of three.
When he left for the Middle East, twins Annica and Anya used bottles. Four months later, he returned to 16-month-olds drinking from sippy cups. He missed potty-training Cooper, 2.
At the airport, Cooper looked right past his dad. The toddler recognized the voice from phone calls. But he didn't remember his father's face.
"Daggers in his heart," said Emily, his wife.
When her husband shipped off, the 24-year-old mother became a single parent to three children under 2. She hauled the brood to Oregon, where both of their families live.
Meanwhile, her husband lived like a bachelor in Iraq, playing cards and working out.
On the phone, she tried not to yell. He listened without comment to her home troubles.
The months changed both high school sweethearts.
Before, he was the outgoing one. Now he is introverted, and Emily talks more.
"You go back and you almost have to date each other again," David said.
* * *
There's an old joke: If the Army wanted soldiers to marry, it would issue them wives.
These days, marital relations is no laughing matter. With the nation at war, husbands and wives are paying a price at home.
Three years ago, the military received a brutal wakeup call. Four soldiers stationed at Fort Bragg, N.C., were charged with killing their wives within six weeks. Three were members of the Army Special Forces returned from the war in Afghanistan.
Behind doors, families still may be hurting.
The nonprofit Miles Foundation deals with domestic abuse in military families. Four years ago, the Connecticut group was working 35 to 50 cases in a month. Now it handles about 140 cases each week.
"We've seen a serious escalation in the violence," spokeswoman Anita Sanchez said.
In the Army, marriages are suffering. Divorce rates among active-duty officers have spiked since the beginning of the Iraq war in March 2003. About 1,000 officers divorced between October 2000 and September 2001, shortly before the U.S. began the war on terrorism, according to Army records. The figure had tripled to 3,325 in the year ending in September 2003.
To strengthen marriages, the Army takes couples on weekend counseling retreats to resorts. For singles, it started a program on picking partners, informally known as "how not to marry a jerk."
"We recruit soldiers, but we retain families," Army spokeswoman Martha Rudd said. "If our soldiers aren't taken care of, our readiness suffers."
Other military branches, including the Air Force, have not seen such dramatic increases in divorce rates. But they still are concerned about smoothing homecomings with children and spouses.
Marriages that survive the distance can end up stronger.
In 20 years of marriage, Air Force Tech. Sgt. JR Foster's marriage has survived multiple deployments. The 41-year-old father just returned from a four-month stint in Qatar.
"It's made him a better husband," said Lisa Foster, 38, a stay-at-home mother raising four children in South Tampa. "Sometimes hard times make you appreciative and put things in perspective."
* * *
Sex and the remote control receive special attention when Chaplain Holmes talks with soldiers coming home to MacDill.
He warns the men: If your wife has discovered the Oxygen channel, it may not be so easy to flip to ESPN again. Control of the remote has been in her hands for months, just like she has been in charge of all household chores.
The Baptist pastor, who ministers to all denominations, doesn't shy from mentioning gender differences that can lead to a cool reception in the bedroom.
"On a guy's part, intimacy is almost instant. But on a female's part, there's more emotions tied into it," said Holmes, 37, noting that men can be surprised. "Hey, I've been gone for this long, and she's not wanting t o . . ."
In a soldier's absence, families pick up routines that won't change back overnight.
After finding his family, Pitcher, 24, spent his first night at home from Kyrgyzstan in a bed with his wife and 7-month-old daughter. Mother and baby had gotten used to sleeping together.
"I was just glad to see a comfortable bed," said Pitcher.
The baby now sleeps on her own. And Pitcher and his wife were among the couples that took advantage of MacDill's romantic date night - a free dinner cruise for married couples. The military babysits and provides transportation.
Last Sunday, 19 couples from MacDill enjoyed a sunset sail on Hillsborough Bay on the Yacht StarShip. On the ride over to board the cruise, Chaplain Holmes encouraged public displays of affection.
* * *
Aboard the Yacht StarShip, Janalynn and Chris Dixon sat down on the same side of a table, away from the other couples. They held hands. She didn't notice when he drank her mai tai.
Slow jazz played in the background. Between dinner courses, the couple pressed their heads together at the window and watched Davis Islands float by.
When they finished eating, they headed upstairs to the deck. A live band started a slow song. The Dixons wrapped their arms around each other and danced cheek to cheek.
Chris, an Army major, returned in August from a year in Iraq. His eyes still water remembering the moment that he saw his wife again, alone at the airport.
They consider themselves lucky. In Iraq, he had access to a phone and could call every day. Apart on his 40th birthday, she still found a way to tease him. She faxed a high school senior photo of Chris to his office at the embassy in Baghdad.
"We would have celebrated our fifth anniversary in June, but he was gone," said Janalynn, 36.
They moved from New York just before he left and bought their first house in Valrico. He lived here for five days.
When he came back, she had to show him how to mow the lawn and clean the pool.
He felt funny having to learn the chores from his wife. "I'm like, that's my job," Chris said.
At first, Chris would forget that he no longer was in a war zone. He jumped when thunder boomed during afternoon storms.
He remains a little skittish. Janalynn does too, but about the military life. She expected frequent moves and sacrifices, but there is no learning to like a year's separation.
"It's love him or leave him," Janalynn said. "And I'm going to love him."
