Guest Author - Michelle Taylor

I was 19 years old; my brand new husband was 23. We were not so different from many other young, newly married couples. Except he was a 2nd Lieutenant in the United States Army and flew helicopters, and I was an officer’s wife. Oh, and we had just moved halfway around the world to Schofield Barracks, Hawaii for our first post.

We thought it sounded idyllic; Hawaii for our first post? It would be like an extended honeymoon.

Except I was only 19; barely out of childhood and had never been out of the South in my life. I had lived in Georgia until I graduated High school, and then attended college in Alabama near where my husband-to-be was going through Army flight school. It was exciting at first, but then it was daunting, then downright lonely.

To make matters worse, my husband’s flight company had a Captain who was still single, as was the other lieutenant in the company. So by default, that made me the wife in charge of the company wives. Me, the 19 year old that had never really been away from home and had no idea what military life was about. I was terrified.

Then I was invited to the Brigade’s Officer’s Wives meeting, which was headed up by the commanding Colonel’s wife. (Our Brigade consisted of 4 helicopter companies). I got to meet many other wives there that did know what they were doing. Some who had been in the service for going on 20 years with their spouse, and a few who were even in the Army themselves.

I also met the woman who became my best friend while on the island. It happened simply enough; I was quite obviously pregnant (close to delivery in fact), and she had just found out that day that she was. We learned our husbands served in the same capacity, just in different companies, flying OH-58 helicopters.

Meeting other women made all the difference in the world. I now was not alone. I belonged to a sisterhood, a sorority of sorts.

This sorority came in handy in just a few months time; Operation Desert Shield turned into Desert Storm. Although we had very few full units leaving from Hawaii, they were pulling our husbands out of their units to fill in missing spots where men had been killed or injured. We waited daily to see whose husband would be called away next.

And even those of us whose husbands didn’t get called to fight in the Gulf War had plenty of worries at home. There was a huge war on drugs in Hawaii at the time, and it was our husbands who piloted the helicopters looking for the marijuana fields. These were the type of criminals that didn’t mind shooting at helicopters. So we got to hold our breath, and each other’s hands each time our husbands went out on one of these missions.

Then Hurricane Iniki hit. Now hurricanes are bad things, as everyone knows. A hurricane on an island is especially terrifying, because – where are you going to go? Since our husbands flew the choppers, their first duty was not to family, but to securing these multi-million dollar pieces of equipment.

So we wives huddled together in one house, taping up the windows, finding books and games to play with the little ones. I recall one horrifying moment when I went to my friend’s house to drive her over to our place (she had literally just had her baby a week before) – and she’s standing there with the baby in one arm, trying to tape up her glass door with the other hand. The wind rips it out of her hand, and there is glass all over and around her. Luckily neither she nor the baby was hurt – but I will never forget that sight. I grabbed the baby, told her to grab the bag – and we flew back to my place which my neighbors were already boarding up. (We had the innermost house).

There were good times, too. I remember sitting with my company wives making leis out of Ti leaves to welcome back the men who had gone to fight over in Iraq and were coming home. There was the St. Patrick’s Day celebration where instead of a red velvet cake I made a green velvet cake and everyone died laughing when they saw it.

And I remember the day we left Hawaii, standing in the airport and all my friends – the soldier’s wives, hugged me and we cried. I was leaving my sorority, but I will never forget those sisters born of need and courage, and care.