"We grew a hundred years older in a single hour."

--- Anna Akhmatova, in her poem "In Memoriam July 19, 1914" about the start of World War I

My oldest brother left last night for Louisiana, a two-week stop-over before his unit is deployed. We have been through this four times previously, three in the current theater and its environs and once in Bosnia. Hence, we are somewhat accustomed to deployment from the "home front" side of things, but the worry is still there, especially now. In the last deployment, things came a bit unraveled; where he was stationed was fairly inaccessible to communication, a strange sickness with a high fever for several days, the loss of two other soldiers in his unit, marital problems which I make a point of not sharing, out of respect for all parties... all of which combined to throw him for a loop.

An uncle who is a Vietnam veteran says, "Everyone who participates in war gets [Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder]. It just varies to the degree." True, that. While my brother was staying with us for a while after his divorce (it was on amicable terms, thankfully), a large halogen lamp next to his bed bit the dust when he woke up punching. There were several life choices in that time when it was like watching a car accident, that from your vantage point, seems to be going in slow motion. He tried reclaiming his old life; for instance, getting a puppy of the same breed he and his wife had. Generally speaking, as even he acknowledges now, he "jumped too quickly" and made some less-than-ideal decisions that will impact the rest of his life. (Writer's Note: I've made my own less-than-ideal decisions, so it is not my intent to be casting stones here). That's what it's like, and he's not alone in any of these things. Science still knows very little about the human brain, but a small irony of the wars is a new attention to brain disorders, physical and emotional.

We attended the deployment ceremony at the Convention Center back in November before they were sent for training in the mid-West. There, we watched and listened to the state's political contingent (mostly Democrats in tony, blue-state Connecticut) make their speeches, of which I clapped for none. My brother is now a First Sergeant, which one hopes would put him in a slightly safer position. But these wars have been rather unforgiving according to rank. There is no real safe ground. And so, when our blue star flag goes in the window, we will still worry. When the news reports are read, we will still hold our breaths a little. And when he comes home again, we'll be there to help however we can.