MILITARY WIVES I'VE KNOWN.
BY CAROL O'DONNELL-KNYCH

Military Wives, as I knew them, were busy ladies. There were few jobs opened to them while their husbands were stationed in Europe. For the most part, they were stay-at-home wives and mothers, managing on limited funds. Though I was a teacher and civilian, I found them to be unfailingly friendly and spontaneously helpful.

Bob and I transferred to Wurzburg, Germany, in 1968. We arrived with Jen four and Mike two. Our tiny Army hotel motivated us to get housing quickly. Lucky for us, the post had excess housing they opened to civilians. Bob landed a three bedroom, ground-floor apartment, directly across from the Officers Club, then he went to play golf. I looked around the fully furnished apartment and made a list. We needed dishes, implements, pans, sheets and towels until our household goods arrived. Jen, Mike, and I walked across the well-tended helicopter landing strip, to the Post Exchange (PX.)

An older woman, probably 45, spotted my overflowing shopping basket. I told her I was shopping for what we'd need until our household goods arrived. “On no,The Army loans everything. I’ll take you.”

She drove us to the supply building on Faulenberg Kasern. It was after 3:00 on Friday, and the German workers' weekend had begun. The manager recognized the Post Commander’s wife, which I hadn’t. He unlocked the warehouse and gave me a grocery basket. That woman, whose name I can't recall, piled plates, pans, towels, and sheets into my basket. Stunned, I patted my children and gushed my thanks.
The manager said, “Oh, you don’t have to thank me, just tell the Commander I helped you when you brought this lady to me after hours.”

“I wouldn’t dare tell him I'd bothered you.” His smile froze. “But don’t worry, I’ll think up a way to put in a good word.” In one fell-swoop she'd provided everything we needed free of charge.

We didn't have to be on a military post to get help. Military wives were everywhere. By the time of our next home leave we had another baby. Military wives gave practical travel advice. New disposable diapers were available and plastic baby bottles with rolls of fillers meant I only had to switch the inside lining. I prepared carefully so we could arrive at Bob's parents looking spotless.

It was the limo taking us from New Jersey to New York that did me in. The limo driver roared off with my diaper bag strapped to his roof.

I flapped my arms helplessly as it disappeared. Bob thought I was having a stroke, but a young military wife who rode in with us understood right away my baby supplies were gone, never to be seen again.

"Don't cry. Don't cry. I have extras. Just tell me what you need." She miraculously produced enough staples to get us to Bob's parents in Utica, dry and happy. To me, she was an Angel.
# # # # #
Early in 1991, American forces in Europe led the way in Kuwait. Dependents could stay in their quarters or return to the US. A wife told me, "Other people understand what we're going through here. Civilians shrug off letters coming late. We're better off waiting with other military wives."

Kuwait felt like field exercisers were suddenly deadly serious. I taught Junior High English. My students didn't say much, they just got quiet, and sad. A few mothers refused to leave their quarters. Their oldest child sopped and cared for younger siblings, not easy for a worried child.
Officer's wives aided lower ranking wives, who were frightened and unprepared . One said,"Mrs Knych, women living 1/2 block from the commissary could walk there to find company, but they get depressed and won't go. Young women away from home for the first time need help." I know she helped did because the children whose mother's she aided brightened up.

Jake, one of my brightest, most energetic boys, had his head down a lot. I asked if he was sick. He said he'd tried to stay awake to talk to Mom because his dad was gone and she was busy helping wives of enlisted men. Jake said, "I haven't seen Mom in two weeks. I know she's busy, my dad's a commander and he's counting on Mom to keep the wives from worrying his men while they're in Kuwait. "

He was obviously cared for--he was clean and he didn't appear hungry. I asked, "Who's feeding you and washing your clothes?"

"My big sister heats up what Mom leaves ready and she gets me up and ready for school." I called their home after 9:00 PM and I got Mom, who'd just walked in the door. She said, "He's right. I've spent every waking moment with those frightened young women for weeks. I've been telling them that their responsibilities go on. Well, mine do too. I have to work in more time for my own children."

Jake said she woke him and they talked. He wrote his dad that he was helping Mom do her duty. Dad returned home with all his men intact after 6 months in Kuwait. Dad told Jake his men wouldn't have been so fit if it hadn't been for the sacrifices he, his mother, and his sister made. He was proud of him.

Later, I read a letter in the Stars and Stripes from the woman who'd received her post's award as Volunteer of the Year. Her husband had been forced to leave the military during the draw-down. He told her, "My people have served our country for three generations but they better not turn to us the next time they need good men. " Her question was "Didn't all my efforts count for anything?"

Of course the military didn't need all the men they had in uniform, but couldn't they have figured out a less ham-handed way to reduce their numbers?

Teachers were affected by the draw down too. If they didn't need so many troops they didn't need so many teachers. The military didn't want to get rid of all their young teachers so they offered a special "Window of Opportunity." It's a long story, but by 1994 Bob and I were both retired.

Now that I'm retired, I miss being around those smart, spunky military wives. I've said repeatedly that I don't know the rest of the story of the families I knew or how they fared later, but Wurzburg High School has a reunion in Las Vegas every third year. We've had the joy of catching up with many families there. That reunion is noisy and fun and affirming. We civilians struggled mightily to aid families away from home, supporting our country in extraordinary circumstances. People we knew mattered to us. Our young people are marvelous adults.

When I'm asked to friend someone I knew long ago on Facebook I feel privileged. I enjoy seeing how families we knew are carrying on today. I congratulate them for the lives they've lived, and the world they helped create. My essays about teaching for DoDDS during the Cold War are being published on Amazon. They are about life under the umbrella of our military during the Cold War. I hope they remind anyone who picks them up of their proud duty, well preformed. C K.