Deployment Return

Soldiers kept pouring

into the Djibouti National airport

sweaty and masked, struggling to breathe

they didn't follow

the six feet rule

eager to leave-

no one was worried

about COVID-19.

little reason to be

when quarantined

on a post the size of

a couple of football stadiums

for the last nine months,

isolated in small

air-conditioned work areas

shipping containers

that served as lodging

they carried camouflage, black, tan,

sand-colored backpacks

bulged with the necessities of travel

they stood haunched to support the

weight waiting in line

always in the hurry up and wait for mode,

waiting, waiting, waiting

since the arrival of their replacements

two weeks prior

she felt a sudden heartache

watched her soldiers around her

the deployment had finally come to an end,

She knew she wasn’t the same

person returning

worse, she felt she didn't know

who she was anymore

she watched one of her soldiers as he

struggled to get a folder

from his over-packed bag

he gave his all during deployment,

taking on jobs above his pay grade,

always volunteering

to help with issues as they arose

he found lost paperwork, ammo,

all things unaccounted for

lost in his department

he filled the air with dust-finding

what needed to be found,

which only he was only able to clear

due to his training and position

prideful, he only bought premium

enjoyed showcasing his luxury

in his clothing-

equipment, always high-end

he had packed too much-

things got lost as he shuffled

through his belongings

for the documents

needed to pass through

the gates of travel

his peers remembered his goodwill

hard work, and it was paid back to him

as they helped him recover

his items as he dropped them

She observed the patches,

blankets, shoes, luggage tags,

stuffed animals, water flasks

that hung outside the bags

of the soldiers around her

rebel patches from Star Wars,

logos from company crests, skulls, bombs,

and unicorns adorned bags,

revealing the personalities of the soldiers

water bottles painted

with paint markers and stickers

hers was a blank slate,

mimicking the sense of lost self

before she started the deployment

she was burnt out

before starting the deployment,

had attempted to bury

her trauma related to her marriage,

a miscarriage, and the weight

of a household with two special needs kids

Her husband-

often mentally and emotionally unavailable,

dealing with cycles of depression

she recently learned

require medication

lifelong like-

a diabetic needs insulin

She did a rushed session

EMDR therapy,

it was could only bandaid,

a superficial quick fix

to cover the wound

that kept her going

while it continued to fester underneath

now that the deployment was over,

she had time to ruminate

over the same concerns

she had left behind

the ranks of their uniforms of bars, shields, leaves,

and rockers didn't matter reaching the gates.

everyone was going to the same place,

stuck in the same lines,

compacted in the same areas

in the end, all ranks sat

in the same seats

she missed the enlisted ranks

She wore ten years earlier

in her first deployment

he remembered being happiest

sporting a shield

a form of protection between

a worker and manager

she missed just being a worker

the rank she wore now

demanded her attention at all times

it came with prestige,

responsibility, commitment,

a weight that she would feel

months after they returned home

it came with a spotlight,

where every action she did or didn't do

was scrutinized by seniors,

peers, and subordinates alike

despite it being

the International Airport

the building had rebar exposed,

layered in a cheap brick design

the peeling paint

musty air reflected

the rest of the country

lying in

heaps of waste

imported from China,

they were happy to leave it

the humid air wasn't much

cooler

inside the airport

the stench of body odor,

sewage sprang from

open latrines

she bought some of her soldiers'

drinks at the counter,

selling out quickly

serving the three hundred

waiting to board

well-known brand sodas-

sold out,

so she got three

noncarbonated orange drinks

tasted bitter

watered-down orange juice

"These would have tasted better with gin,

but at least they are cold,"

her senior NCO chuckled

they shared stories about going home,

what went right, and

what they wish they could

have done better

hours spent sitting there

into other holding areas

until they boarded the plane

bags in tow, masks worn,

covers in hand

layovers much the same

Ireland was long,

where the soldiers ate

bought gifts for their families

curios of a country

only landed in

it was night when they reached

port of entry to the U.S.A.

more hurry and waiting

waiting, waiting, waiting

care of equipment

paperwork, personnel

took priority

the next couple of weeks

she knew she was home

seeing the blue sky

that very morning

a sky like no other

gradient blue

the desert she’s always known

bordering her state

New Mexico

quarateened in Fort Bliss

they got to wear civilians

boarded in small tents

restricted to cots

small amounts of space

locked down

trailer showers,

mass boiled food

restricted

confined

like a prison,

they got yard time

twice a day

to run on the track

use the gym box

it was her time to

reflect, and see

the sky of her

Home

it was hope

being home

that sky being

new possibilities

opportunities

a new vision

she captured the sky

her hopes being home

painting that desert

she found herself

returned