There was a time during my military career that started off with a lot of promise. I had just started my second tour of duty. (For nonmilitary types, that means I just reenlisted). My second son had just been born. In about two months he, my wife and oldest son would join me in our new duty station. Compared to being in the FMF (Fleet Marine Force) the work was a lot easier. The typical uniform of the day was no longer boots and utilities, but would be service uniform and dress blues. The weather would be the tropical climate at the Panama Canal. The place where they have two kinds of weather. Hot and dry, or hot and wet.
The first year was great. Enjoying the weather. Enjoying the local people. Learning to speak Spanish. Being able to walk to work in 10 minutes or less. Due to the nature of the job, the most demanding thing was the work cycle. Working a typical training day, followed by a day of 24-hour duty, followed by a day off. Wash, rinse, repeat. Of course, the day off was never a full day off. There was always some reason to be held over after that 24-hour day of duty.
Somewhere into the second year the work cycle began to be at drain on my sleep cycle. It was compounded by the demands of raising two kids under the age of two, who didn’t understand why dad was asleep while they were awake during the day. If that was all there was to it, it would not have been a huge ordeal. The kicker was that we had a change of command. The new CO (Commanding Officer) definitely had a different style and personality.
Our new commander was the kind who seemed very friendly on the surface. Ready with a smile, and easy to talk to in passing. It didn’t take long though to determine that his interest in the troops at my lowly level was actually micromanagement.
The job we had was security. Standing guard at the gates to the base. Standing guard at a couple remote locations in the jungle. Even a couple at highly secure locations. There wasn’t a lot of threat from hostile enemies. But you’re paid to be there for a reason, and that mindset is never far when you’re out on post. It can be stressful enough. It’s only magnified when your boss inserts himself in such a way that he makes himself an enemy to guard against.
The way I saw it is that I knew my job I was assigned. I knew the job that was unique to each post. It was highly unlikely that he, or anyone would catch me off guard. It was just disturbing that he felt the need to insert himself as some kind of Inspector General.
At the time there was a popular song by the O’Jays. The beginning lines in the chorus were:
What they do?
They smile in your face
All the time they want to take your place
The back stabbers, back stabbers
the song is about someone trying to steal your girlfriend, but with this commander it was about seeing who he could reduce in rank, or have kicked out of the military altogether.
There wasn’t anyone big thing that happened all at once. It was just a lot of little stresses that built up. Before I was midway into my final year, the stresses had pushed me into a state of depression. It didn’t help to see others who rotated in after me, rotate out. The tour of duty for someone who was single was two years. For a married person it was three years. With every person who rotated out, who arrived after I did only increase the depression.
I usually find balance in practicing my faith. This time, it didn’t seem to be working. As far as was in my control, I attended services regularly, read the Bible and devotionals regularly. I had no trouble with people on base, or off-base. But nothing seemed to alleviate the stress from a micromanaging boss.
Late one night while on post, I was looking through my wallet and found a card that I placed their before I left the United States. I think I must’ve bought it from a bookstore with the intention to use as a bookmark. It was a poem titled, “Footprints in the Sand.” For many years it was attributed to an anonymous writer. If you research the poem on the Internet, you’ll find that it has gone through two or three revisions. One of the later revisions has attribution to an author, and some research has turned up the author who originally wrote the poem.
I won’t recite the poem here, but the gist of it is a person who notices that through the sand of time that represents life, she notices only one set of footprints through the hard times, and two sets during other times. She has the chance to confront God, and asks him why she was left alone during those hard times. Didn’t God say he would never forsake or abandon her? The answer from God was that in those lowest of times was when he carried her. She could never have made it through those times, walking on her own.
Over the course of weeks, I made a point to pull out that poem to read it and memorize it. It’s not Scripture, but the message hit home and helped me through it.
I don’t know whatever became of that poem on that card. I couldn’t recite it to you these days. I do remember saying a brief prayer asking God to stop carrying me. I was thankful that he did, but I was grateful when he planted my feet on higher ground so I could once again walk side-by-side.
here’s some music that summarizes this post:
