Transitions

Well, my transition is once again complete. I am back to being CW3 Bishop, United States Army. For the past two weeks, I’d been Dada, Husband, Brother and Son. If you have to ask which role I prefer, you don’t know me very well.

Being an Army Reservist, I get the unique opportunity to switch back and forth between my military and civilian personas, and I’ve always thought the process of doing so was fairly interesting, so I thought I'd share it here.

It’s not really a “scheduled” transition so to speak, more of a mental changeover that just sorta happens. Going home on leave, I started out in Kuwait with 300 other people who couldn’t wait to get home to friends and family. We were in full military mode at this point, seeing as we’d all been deployed for many months and been surrounded by nothing but uniforms the entire time.

Our first dose of civilian life came as we boarded the airplane to head home. The flight crew was the first group of non-contractor civilians we’d seen in many months. They treated us as people, not as soldiers (there is a difference…those who’ve been there know what I mean.) Our civilianization had begun.

The next step was getting off the plane in Atlanta, 16 hours after we’d left Kuwait. This was the first time I’d been back on US soil in 7 months, but it didn’t take long to get used to all the sights and sounds again. We also had some interaction with civilian passengers in the terminal, many of whom came up to shake our hands and thank us. It was good to be back in the US.

When we got to Dallas (the 3rd stop on my way home), we were welcomed by the wonderful volunteers from the DFW USO. There were hundreds of people lined up to shake our hands, high 5 and hug us as we headed out of the terminal, and it is an experience I will never forget. I now know what a movie star feels like on the red carpet, and it was humbling to say the very least.

Dallas was where we left the military charter flight and went on to regular scheduled airlines to our individual destinations. I was one of two soldiers on my flight from DFW to Phoenix, and again we were treated like royalty. For two rows around me, people were offering to buy my lunch (I’d eaten 5 times by this point), give me their pillows and blankets, or whatever else they thought I needed. In case I’ve not said it recently, I am so very grateful to all those who are grateful for what we do. Thank you.

By the time I got to the curb in Phoenix, I was the only one in a military uniform. My transformation was nearly complete. In a little over 28 hours, I’d gone from a sea of green suits to being surrounded by civilians, and it was rubbing off. I arrived home and within 10 minutes, was in shorts and a T-shirt that didn’t say “Army” on them. I was ready to be a civilian for a while, and boy did I enjoy it. I will try to write about all my wonderful leave experiences in the near future, but I want to make sure I have the time to do it properly, so it will have to wait until things settle down a little.

The civilian to Army transition was pretty much the same as above in reverse. It began when I put the uniform on for the first time in 2 weeks, and ended 40 hours later when I stepped off the plane back in Kuwait and was hit square in the face by the dust filled 105* heat.

I am eagerly awaiting the opportunity to write about my next transition, which will take place in about 3 ½ months. It can’t come soon enough, but I know that the time will pass quickly. We’re on the downhill side of the clock now, and to quote a popular Army phrase, I can do that time “standing on my head”.