Day 307: I AM a "Brat"...

I’ve kinda dreaded this moment ever since I decided to do this blog.  I knew I would need/want to say something about my experiences as an Army Brat.  So much has been written on the topic and far too many, more eloquent people have described the lifestyle I lived for the first 18 years of my life but this is just something I have to do.  I hope I can do it justice.  

Military Brat (Wiki definition) - "Military brats" (especially current and former children of career military families) are largely viewed by themselves and by those who study them as a distinct, 200 year-old American subculture, with millions of members.[1][2] The age of the phenomenon has meant military brats have also been described by a number of researchers as one of the America's oldest and yet least well-known and largely invisible subcultures.[2][5] They have also been described as a modern nomadic subculture.[5]

I’ve read "Band of Brothers" and recently read the book "Blackhorse Riders" and it occurred to me we Brats were soldiers too.  I would never presume to say our experiences were on par with those combat Joes that fought and died in Vietnam or any other conflict, but our "battles" were just as searing in our minds and hearts as those who spilled blood.  We didn't share a foxhole, we shared a classroom.  Our fathers spent RnR (Rest and Relaxation) in Hawaii.  We spent ours at the Teen Club.  Our fathers fought an enemy in the rice patties of Vietnam.  Our enemy trolled the grounds of Mannheim or Augsburg High School.  A soldier lost a buddy during a firefight.  We lost friends when fathers were reassigned back to "the world".  

I guess Wiki is right, we are a subculture.  We had diverse personalities and upbringings but shared a similar life style.  Regardless of our temperament or ambitions we mainly wanted to assimilate and fit in as quick as possible.  There was no time to sit and wait for life to happen.  We dove head first into relationships and activities.  It was a hard thing to do when every two to three years we had to reinvent ourselves in a new community and a new school.  We grew up fast and on the move.   I often think of my friends and experiences and can't help the tears that well up in my eyes.  In some ways I owe my very existence to those that fought the good fight with me. They helped me survive the awkwardness of youth and the insecurity that came not just with the transition from childhood to young adult but trying to find my identity through an ever changing set of mailing addresses and schools. At times we shared a harsh existence with very little outlet with the exception of each other.  I don't think high school bonds are unique to Brats but the "battlefields" where they were forged definitely were. 

At the time I never understood why my high school reunion in October of 2000 in New Orleans affected me so much.  But since then I’ve had time to think on it and it’s clear that we were and still are a “Band of Brothers and Sisters”.   How do you explain knowing someone for only eight months of your life but they maintain a place deep in your heart as if they were family?  I guess in many respects we are family.   A Brat can text to a friend “KC” and they’ll know exactly what that means.  I get really nostalgic when I hear Earth, Wind and Fire or Marvin Gaye on the radio.  Like a time machine they take me back to a very special time in my life that most folks don’t quite understand except those that were there with me.  

In many ways it was a hard life but I have no regrets nor would I change any difficult, hurtful or awkward experience I had.  They were all sources of strength that have sustained me these 50+ years.  I wear them as badges of honor.  I’m proud of where I’ve been and I’m proud to call myself a “Brat”.  I suppose this all sounds self-indulgent but please believe me when I say it’s not that we Brats want to be praised; we just want to be understood.