Born to Serve

There are those of us who are never lost. A few lucky ones see their path in life clearly from a very young age and are never deterred. This was so with my first love Dalton Johnson*. Dalton was what my grandfather would call "single minded". He would decide to do something and never look away from his goal until it was accomplished. When at 10 he decided on a career in the military there was never any question in anyone's mind that Dalton would become a U.S. Army Ranger with the prestigious 82nd Airborne Division and God help the man, woman or castastrophe that got in his way.

I'm pretty sure he waited until he was 11 to inform me that we would be married one day but he may have been 12. I do remember the horror I felt at his announcement while we built a snow igloo in the Commons area of the townhomes both our parents had leased soon after our move back stateside from Germany. We were both Army dependants, a world where the only constant is change and kids lucky enough to move around together develop lifelong bond. This was the case with Dalton and I. I don't ever remember him not being part of my life but now he'd gone and ruined 10 good years of friendship and I had to plot his demise. I blew out a frigid breath of air blowing my dark brown bangs up in exasperation. "How dare he go and ruin everything!" my mind screamed at me. I, unlike Dalton, had no idea what direction my life would take and I was perfectly happy with that. I did know I would never be an Army wife. "How gross!" Unfortunately, I also knew Dalton, once he stated the fact nothing would stop him. I looked at him squarely and thought oddly, "He should be a Viking." Even at 11 he was taller and bigger than most boys his age with buzz cut strawberry blonde hair, a complexion that screamed at even an hour on the beach and turned a fiery shade of red in rebellion. Crystal blue eyes and a lopsided grin that made him look like he was up to some mischief or another looked straight back at me resolved. So I did what any sane 10 year old would do at the sight of the determination in his serious eyes. I squatted down into the long jump position Coach had taught me the day before at P.E. and took a flying leap straight at him! Catching him off guard and knocking both of us hapazardly into the igloo we had just spent the morning painstakingly building. Then I jumped up and ran toward home yelling over my shoulder. "Mom's calling! Gotta run!".

Dalton never wavered, however, and as grade school became middle school, middle school became high school and orders came through for another move or five. I grew restless while he became steadfastly grounded. I would remark while riding shotgun in his old '65 Chevy Pickup Truck on the way to school that I was thinking of taking a year before college to explore the Amazon Rainforest and maybe tie myself to a tree or three and he would answer with "Yep, you need to get all of that out of your system before the kids are born. I'll have enough trouble saving you from headhunting native cannibals after you tie yourself to a tree defenseless and offer up a ready made meal for every cannibal that moseys on by. If you had little Tommie or Emily along it would play hell with my concentration.". Yes! Dalton Johnson 15 and currently a Sophomore at Choctaw One High School, Ft Hood, Texas had already chosen the gender of his...our children and even brazenly decided upon names! This argument was so old I simply sighed and repeated to him what had become my mantra. "I. Am. Never. Getting. Married! Besides, if I ever change my mind, I sure as hell ain't gonna marry you Dalton Johnson! " Then I leaned over punched him in the arm while yelling "Punch buggy! No punch back! Even though there wasn't a Volkswagon Beetle anywhere in sight and sprang from the truck, running across the parking lot, up the stairs and into the school. I spent the rest of that day rubbing the knuckles on my hand in an attempt to rub away the memory of the heat that had flashed through my fist at coming in contact with his bare arm. "What in the damnation is that all about?" I wondered.

Life is funny like that though and during that fateful high school year, him a Sophomore and myself a lowly Freshman at a new school, in a new town again... He became my constant. He was the rock that held the string of my balloon tethered tightly to the ground. While I tied myself to a cactus in the middle of the Texas dessert in the name of the spotted flying muskrat lizard or some such business all the while professing my feminism loudly, Dalton continued his ROTC drills and made plans for Ranger school or "Selection" as he repeatedly and patiently corrected me. "Whatever" I'd exclaim rolling my eyes for his benefit while turning the volume all the way up on the stereo in his room. I'd jump around head banging playing air guitar to Def Lepards "Pyromania" while he sat at his desk grinning that lopsided grin, making plans in his head about our future and shined the brass on his uniform for drill the next day.

Then came the day Mikey Coffee asked me to the Junior Prom and I with 16 years of "No man will ever own me and I'll do what I want" feminine wisdom accepted.

To be continued...

While this is a true story, Names, Dates and Places have been changed.