The day finally came. We were leaving and there was no turning back. Our vehicles were in storage, barracks rooms wre cleared and cleaned out and bags were packed.

Chris and 2 other soldiers from our battery had left 2 weeks earlier on 'Super Cargo' with all of the PATRIOT equipment, bound for Kuwait. They would arrive about 2 weeks AFTER we all got in country.

Being part of a PATRIOT missile unit meant that we were to protect the skies from any air threat. Our system could shoot down enemy missiles and air craft to put it simply. There were many large trucks, and pieces of equipment that those trucks hauled that worked together to keep the skies safe. All of that was now on the ocean, working its way around the world, just like we soon would be too.

The weeks leading up to Feb 1st 2003 were spent in a chaotic frenzy of tying up loose ends and saying all the things we wanted to say to loved ones. I think we all got a taste of what it might be like for a terminaly ill person. Who knew if we would be alive in a week? I know several people made amends with loved ones who they hadn't spoken to in years. Spouses were especialy emotional. Some became closer, and some fought constantly. We were all there for each other, and leaned onone another like never before. We all knew that we were to be the only fanily we would have for God-only-knew how long.

Neumann and I had been suite-mates in the barracks, each having our own room, but sharing the connecting bathroom. I had moved out into a house on post a few months before when Kayla had moved down to live with me when housing became available. Neumann and I were "peas and carrotts" and usualy did everything together. So we spent thre last hours before we deployed packing up her room and storing some of it at my house. Then we camed out in our sleeping bags on the floor of her then empty room. We shared a glass of wine and toasted to our families, our friends and to comming back home. Finaly around midnight we fell asleep, only to wake up a few minutes later for a 1am formation!!

It was odd to think how this was my last hot shower, my last night to drink alchohol, my last night to feel safe!! I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know enough to be TOO scared. All I knew was there was no turning back. So I was ready to go and get this show on the road!

Feb 1st dawned cold and clear. Tensions were high and we were all dealing with mixed emotions. My platoon Sergeant, SSG Donnelly, gave us a speech that made my eyes water a bit. He LOOOOOVED giving speeches. The man could go on for days. But he was really on a roll with this one. He promised he wouled be the last one in the foxhole and he would personaly guarantee that he would leave none of us behind, and bring us all home. ( mixed in with his 'signature words' of DOGGONE and DAGGONE). We ALL made promises to each other that day.

All 'my boys' on the R.S.O.P. team came to me individually and in their own way, promised to look out for me. As the only female on the team, it made me more aware of the danger we would be facing. I wasn't any more scared. I had complete trust in myself, my training and my battle buddies. But the reality of it was hitting me pretty fast.

R.S.O.P. stands for Recon Survey of Site Proceedure. We would be findingeach new site for the battery to occupy by going ahead, searching for the best site to stay then sweep it for landmines and stake out where each piece of equipment needed to go. It was slow and tedious work, but had to be done correctly in order to ensure the ENTIRE battery's safety and to give us a safe place to 'live' every few days.

The threat of Nuclear, Biological and Chemical attack was always present, and having to wear all that protective gear was NOT something I was looking forward to!! It was hot, heavy and cumbersome. All I could think of was how difficult it would be to run and shoot wearing the gas mask, an extra layer of thick coveralls, rubber boots and rubber gloves!!

I had a great bunch of guys to work with and I felt very safe to have them on my team and at my back. We had been well trained and were ready to go! We knew our job so well we could do it in our sleep.

That morning at the gym we said our goodbyes. There was a corner set up with flags and a camera. Each soldier was instructed to go over and have his or her picture taken. There was no if's and's or buts about it. Neumann and I gave each other a look. She said "are you thinking what I'm thinking??" I nodded. We both agreed that this may be the last picture families ever had of their soldier and the army wanted to make sure they had something to remember them by. When I stepped up to have my picture taken I felt really wierd. I could NOT get that thought out of my head, wondering if this picture would be blown up poster size and placed by my casket. COME ON NOW stop that I told myself.

Even though I had nobody there at the gym to say goodbye to, it was heartbreaking to watch my boys tell their familes goodbye. Barnes, Valadez and Hedrick were all leaving behind pregnant wives. Tears were inevitable, adn even though they tried to be tough, they shed tears also. I was ok until I saw Spc. Lopez's mom as she sobbed, crossed her son and said "God be with you Mijo". His head was bowed, as his 2 little girls sobbed at his knees.

I called my kids who were leading their normal lives, getting ready to go to Kayla's first basketball game. She was nervous and I assured her she'd be GREAT! Hunter was too busy playing PS2 to talk long, but told me he loved me and handed the phone to Courtney. I told her I wanted to say goodbye adn it might be a very long time before I could call again. She said " Oh mama thats ok!" I asked her if she knew what I was doing and she said with all her 9 year old nonchalance " yeaahh you're going to save the world!' ( and I think she actualy believed that!) I purposly kept it short and not too emotional. I don't know if that was more for my benifit or theirs.

The time came to load the buses bound for the airfield. We were told to be strong, remember our military bearing, and that we were all comming home together soon. T.V. cameras were all around as we formed up to march off. Sgt. Bradleys litle girls were crying and hanging on to whatever part of their daddy they could grab on to. One of the girls shrieked " DADDY PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!" It tore my heart out as he peled her off and handed her to his wife. I think all the families felt like screaming something similar at that point. The crowd stood back as we all marched on to the bus and toward the unknown.