I found out that BFD was going to the Gulf while watching AFN, the military TV station in Europe. It was 1990; we were stationed in Stuttgart, Germany with the US Army. We had already heard about Saddam Hussein invading Kuwait from the news in August; now it was November.

Earlier that year we had seen our oldest son, HBW, off to Argentina to be a missionary for two years. Our second-oldest boy was the one who took care of the family while HBW and BFD were away.

I did resent the surprise notification-but at least everyone was surprised at the same time, and BFD and I found out together for once. Still, it seems harsh to inform the "lucky ducks" on the news! All but one family in our 18-family apartment building were affected, which was about average for our community in Germany at the time. For years afterward I harbored ill-feelings toward Dick Cheney who, as was his wont, delivered the news coldly and baldly. "We'll take" the following units, he said. "Shut up," I said.

That was the day the nightmare began.

I think that folks who don't have military experience believe that those who do should all be troopers about it. I notice that all the folks they interview on TV say things like "He loves what he does'" or "It's my duty to go," or "The Army comes first," (my personal favorite).You see? If you're less than thrilled at the prospect of your loved one going off to war, you get guilt feelings along with the fear, anxiety, and sadness that are the normal reaction to armed conflict. And they won't show your video clip on the news. I guess that's just as well.

The next few weeks were the worst of my life. BFD was preparing to go...but I was so swept up in my pain that I think I forgot what others, especially BFD, were feeling. He had to remain tough for the Army and the kids, and at the same time maintain a level of sympathy and regret for me, lest I think him to be glad he was leaving. No room at all to express his fears and suffering. He worked long hours at first, in those weeks before he deployed, and I cried every day, by myself. I hoped against hope that somehow, something would happen and they would call the whole thing off. But I underestimated the desire for war that evil men the world over -including our President at the time-possess in their hearts. I know it sounds awful to call the President evil, but on one occasion he actually said that women in the military who chose to go to war and leave their children in the care of others were doing the "right" thing. Sorry, I don't agree. By this time, of course, women were being issued Maternity Battle Dress Uniforms-can you believe it? As if they were ever going be allowed to actually go into battle pregnant. It was bad enough that the men had to go because another madman was in need of a sniper but we weren't allowed to assassinate Heads of State. Since when? None of it made any sense to me then, and it doesn't now. Yes, I cried. Until one day, my eyes swelled shut, I got scared, and I didn't really cry again for about six years. Oh, I could tear up a bit, but no sobs. Things would just stop. I held it all in. Not good.

We celebrated Christmas in early December of 1990 and then BFD left for the Gulf on the 16th. I was shocky at first but felt strangely better after he was gone. A little numb, I guess. Then he found a way to have some flowers sent to me, and called about 10 days later, and I was comforted. Not completely; just enough to function and get through it. Which I did by watching the news 24-7and dealing with the kids and our everyday lives. And I prayed. Did I ever.

One day we had a scare when armed soldiers came through our housing area in Germany and rumors flew that "something" had happened. What that "something" was supposed to be we never discovered; because it was all just a big lie. It turned out to be a drill.

I talked to my Mom once during this period (long distance calls were still very expensive then between Germany and AZ) She said she knew exactly how I felt but she had never sent a spouse away to war. She met my Dad during WWII and corresponded with him for about 3 years whilst he was stationed in India-well away from the hotter parts of the conflict (though of course India cannot be called a garden spot in any case). They didn't marry until 1946, after it was all over. Thinking back on our conversation I think she must have meant that she remembered the over-all foreboding national mood of the times after Pearl Harbor when virtually every man had to join up or be drafted and everybody else had to be somehow involved in the war effort. When I sent BFD to Saudi Arabia, we had already been married for 23 years, had 5 kids, and for all practical purposes, were "knit together in love". We had a solid, happy marriage; he was the love of my life, the most important person in the universe to me, and I was deeply frightened at the thought of not seeing him alive in this world again.

My next-door neighbor at the time asked me one day what I would do if BFD didn't come back. (Her husband was also deployed to the Gulf War along with most of the soldiers in our community.) I explained about BFD and me: the investment we had in each other, and the meaning of marriage in our religious faith. We are Mormons; it is the aim of faithful members of our church to be married for eternity- not just-'til death us do part" but forever. This is a great blessing which BFD and I had received in 1970 in a Temple of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Of course, if one spouse dies early, the remaining years of the survivor can be complicated. Still, our Temple marriage is an anchor to my soul because it promises us a "happily ever after" if we are faithful.

I told all this to my neighbor but I don't really know how she felt about it. She had already been divorced once; we didn't know it at the time, but even as we sat in our little apartments in Germany that Spring, her husband was cheating on her while he was away in the desert. They divorced soon after the war. She married again for a third time but I don't know how it all turned out. She never answered my last letter of a few years ago.

BFD was faithful and came home safely in May 1991. We had expected him to be gone at least a year but it was only 5 months. We are together today, nearly 20 years later.

I remember an interview I once saw on TV with a famous older movie star. He was asked if his wife had trusted him while he was away so much making films. His answer was telling. He said "She trusted me, yes. But that was because I was trustworthy."

BFD was, and is, completely trustworthy. I was sorry and sad to be away from him at any time, but I always knew he would be utterly true to his promises to me. And if one of our lives were to be cut short today, we would nevertheless eventually be together again in the eternities, having proved ourselves faithful, even in death.