Posted on 09/22/2004 2:04:26 AM PDT by Former Military Chick
GULFPORT -- Cristie Oliver sat down heavily at the kitchen table as she read the Western Union mailgram.
"Oh, no," she said, the color draining from her face.
Her mother, Cheryl Sendio, figured Cristie must have just opened a whopper of a bill.
"They're going to make me leave my baby," Cristie whimpered.
The mailgram was from the Army; Cristie was being called back to active duty. The Army wanted as many as 545 days, starting Sept. 5.
It had been more than two years since Cristie had put on a military uniform at Fort Riley, Kan. It was not a place where she had fit in. Twice she had had to repeat basic training, and she had left early after giving birth to her daughter, Asia.
That night, their pastor, the Rev. Dr. Angel R. Toro, sat next to a despondent Cristie on the couch in her mother's living room. He told her he would start the church prayer line, a group of 15 people who would pray for her each night.
"Sometimes," the reverend said, "God has a way of surprising us."
The next day, members of the Chapel on the Hill United Church of Christ of Seminole gathered outside a courtroom to support two of their own, a pair of gay dads trying to adopt foster children. Among the group were Cristie and her mother.
Toro silenced the group, announced that Cristie had been called to Iraq and asked the members to pray for her. They held hands and bowed their heads. They converged on Cristie, hugging and kissing her. One woman told Cristie that she had a son in the Navy, and she offered advice:
"You should get pregnant."
On July 6, the Army began sending out 5,674 Western Union mailgrams to former soldiers in the Individual Ready Reserve. These are inactive reservists who completed their active duty time but are available to fill vacancies in emergencies. Some people call this the back-door draft.
Rarely are these soldiers called back; most assume that when they're done with active duty, they're done. That's why the mailgram that arrived July 15 threw Cristie for such a loop.
She had enlisted during her senior year at Pinellas Park High School. A recruiter approached her several times. She didn't really want to go, but she didn't know what else to do.
Her mother thought it was a good idea. Cristie was shy and quiet, with an innocence that Sendio thought needed to be tempered with confidence. A dose of the Army might do her good.
Cristie smoked and didn't exercise much before she reported for boot camp at Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri. Push-ups, sit-ups, running - she always lagged behind.
"I'm a really sensitive person, and they're all yelling at me, and I'd just go back and cry," she remembered. "I was trying to fail so they'd send me home."
That didn't happen. She completed boot camp and trained to be a chemical operations specialist.
Michael Oliver, who also was in chemical operations, remembers the day he and his buddies were replacing the wheel on a small tank. Cristie and three other fresh-faced female recruits walked up.
Michael took one look at Cristie and called dibs on her - something about her model-like walk. She gave up her boyfriend back in St. Petersburg. Michael sent her a different-colored rose 12 days in a row, and he sent love notes:
Lifetime is all I have for you
Oliver, that's my last name
LOL.
Vase that sits on a table that have priceless memories
Everyday that I see those pretty brown dreamin eyes
Cristie got pregnant in September 2001, and they married a few months later. She and a half-dozen other pregnant recruits were assigned administrative tasks at post headquarters.
She wanted to name the baby Africa. Michael didn't. They compromised on Asia.
Cristie left the Army the day after Asia was born, a few months shy of her two-year obligation. Michael got out a month later. They did not look back.
After leaving the Army, they struggled financially.
In the past year, they finally found good jobs. Cristie, 22 now, does office work at the attorney general's office in St. Petersburg, and on weekends she works at a movie theater. Michael works in customer service at PODS, the portable on demand storage company in Clearwater.
Their 1995 Ford Contour broke down and needed $800 in repairs. Michael took the bus to work; Cristie's mom drove her. Cristie's stepfather picked up Asia from day care.
They talked about having another child, but Cristie wanted their finances in order first. Michael kept pressing, and she finally relented. But they were always so tired at night. Sex came last.
Then the mailgram came and everything changed: Get pregnant, get out of going to Iraq.
A friend of the family gave her an ovulation cycle wheel. She put in the date of her last period and saw a tiny window of time the last week of July.
She and Michael would have just one shot.
Cristie awoke at 3 a.m. Michael lay asleep beside her, the TV still on.
She padded into the bathroom, opened her home pregnancy test, urinated on the strip. And waited.
Minutes ticked by. She thought about Asia without her. And Iraq. And the beheadings on TV. What if she went there and never came back? What would become of Asia? Cristie was just so scared.
The little line signifying that she was pregnant did not appear on the strip. She sat on the toilet and cried.
A week later, Cristie felt cramping in her stomach.
Her report date was three weeks away, and she and Michael had made no preparations. She hadn't even looked at her military gear, stowed in a box in the back of her closet.
Cristie decided she would try another pregnancy test, after Michael got home.
That night, 2-year-old Asia lined up birthday candles on the coffee table. "Dats bootiful," she said.
Cristie ran around the kitchen barefoot, in a long, blue, flowery dress like something out of a painting by Monet. She fixed Asia a waffle. Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderella played on TV.
The doorbell rang. In came Cristie's neighbor, 21-year-old Shanetra Wells, holding her 3-year-old's hand and heaving a car seat with her 2-month-old in it. Shanetra's 15-year-old brother, Norman "Trey" Wells III, strolled in behind, chewing on a Coke-can-sized pork rind.
"Did they tell you about my orders to go back in the military?" Cristie asked.
"You going back?" Shanetra said.
"I don't know yet."
Wells picked up her baby and handed him to Cristie, who gently smoothed his soft, curly hair.
"I like this," Cristie said.
"If you have to go back to the Army, it's the wrong time to go," Shanetra said.
"Five hundred forty-five days. It's almost two years."
"Oooooh, you're their property now."
"Would you like to stick around and see if I'm pregnant?"
"Sure, why not?"
Cristie emerged from the bathroom with a white stick in hand. She left it on the kitchen counter and paced back and forth, hands flat on her face.
"I'm not looking at it," she said, back to the counter. "I'm afraid."
She looked. If pregnant, the stick shows two lines. Only one showed.
Cristie drummed fingers on the counter, walked away, shook her hands, her amber eyes wide, panicked. And back again.
"There's a second line. It's really faint," she said. "I can see it, but it's not all the way there. I don't know. Look at it. I can see it, but it's not coming.
"Michael, come here. Do you see the second line?"
Michael studied the stick. There was a dark maroon line and sort of a shadow next to it.
"A little bit," he said. "Last time we saw no color."
"I think I'm excited now," Cristie said.
Again Cristie picked up the stick. The second line was a shade darker, but nowhere near as dark as the first.
"Oooh, it's darker. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant."
Michael dialed his mother in Arkansas. "She's got to be the first one," he said.
"How you doing, Mom? You're going to be a grandma again."
Cristie called her mother.
Said Sendio: "I'll be convinced I'm a grandmother (again) when you go see a doctor."
On Cristie's lunch break the next day, she sat in an empty waiting room at Planned Parenthood under a sign that read: Behold how good and pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together in unity.
She hoped they wouldn't charge her for the visit; she had no money in her wallet. She wore boots, jeans with diagonal strips of brown corduroy, a tan halter top and a beige sweater. She had told co-workers that she was pregnant.
"Some people think it's a good idea. Some people think it's a horrible idea, that it's for not the right reasons."
She talked about recent news reports that the United States was bringing home tens of thousands of soldiers from Europe and Asia.
"What about the people in Iraq? What about the people dying over there? It doesn't make any sense to me."
She pulled her sweater tighter. "I hate waiting," she said, and frowned.
The clinic assistant tested her urine three times, with three brands of pregnancy tests. All were inconclusive. She told Cristie she would have to test her blood and left the room.
Cristie looked worried and confused.
The assistant came back. "I checked the test again," she said, her face dissolving into a smile, "and you're pregnant. Congratulations."
"I knew it, I knew it. That's awesome."
"Congratulations," the assistant said. "It looks like you're not going to Iraq."
Cristie called the Army the next day to report her news. They sent her a delay and exemption packet that she returned with proof she was pregnant.
She and Michael are relieved beyond words - for now. Cristie learned her pregnancy only delays her entry into the military until four months after the baby is born.
After that, she could be called up again.
Researcher Caryn Baird contributed to this report.
Easy... Women should not be part of active duty in combat areas. Unfortunately, The law does not agree with my opinions which results in stories like this.
You know, if you'd done your four and gotten out, settled into civilian life and put your military experience behind you, you'd be a little shocked if you received the telegram she had.
have you seen her contract? inactive reserve...you can still be called up. she should have known that.
Was that an editorial, or is that what passes for a straight news story to day? Pretty sad.
"She had enlisted during her senior year at Pinellas Park High School. A recruiter approached her several times. She didn't really want to go, but she didn't know what else to do.
She told the recruiter "no." Why did he keep coming back? Let's take no for an answer and sign up people who are enthusiastic not reluctant. Wasn't the best time to "get her the hell out of the service" before she even got in? If it takes a hard sell, that's not exactly an ideal recruit and potentially more trouble than useful as it turned out to be here."
As a Brit, I wasn't aware that military recruiters target high school children in the US & I have to say that I'm a little surprised.
What age are these kids approached by recruiters and if they sign up, how long are they obliged to serve and how long are they on the reserve list afterwards?
Reading this first thing gives me morning sickness and I'm a male. Yuck. Maybe she can file for a purple heart and run for president in 35 years or so. Odds are I'll be gone by then. Yuck. Folks, enlisting is not about Prvt. Benjamin or some other feel good feminist movie . Part of the job description is getting shot at. If you can't do that don't sign up. Also my taxes are paying for these games.
You make a good point. Out of approximately 100 men I went through basic training with there were a handful, approximately 5, who couldn't physically cut it. I wonder how many women out of a random 100 would not make it under the same training conditions. I venture to say it would be closer to half. What's more, when I got to Vietnam the conditions were much worse than in basic, with rucksacks and ammo routinely weighing 50 pounds or more, horrendous sanitary conditions, skin problems of every sort, and living conditions which were hardship for even the most rugged individual. While there is no doubt there are some women who can handle all these conditions, they are in a minority and if we had to institute a draft it would skew the number of combat ready forces dramatically. These issues don't even begin to address the psychological and cultural issues which make a tight band of men a good fighting force, and one that would be crippled with the introduction of a woman.
Military recruiters are very active in the high schools of the USA. They even have extra-curricular clubs called JROTC (Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps). The standard enlistment contract is 4 years of active duty followed by 4 years of non-drilling Ready Reserves for a total of eight years. There are other contracts that may require as much as 6 years of active duty (followed by only 2 years of IRR) and there is also a 3 year active, 3 year drilling reserve, and 2 year IRR contract. It all depends on what schools/programs you receive from the government but all of the contracts have an initial obligation of 8 years.
However, she's not the only one who's complaining about the involuntary re-ups. A lot of officers (who are subject to recall indefinitely) have also begun complaining when they've received the dreaded telegram. Not only is this going to affect morale (see above), but it's going to affect recruiting. Kids understand the four-year commitment; I wasn't even told about the eight-year part till I went to boot camp. I didn't read my contract closely, and I'm sure most others didn't then and don't now. However, now this is hitting the news, fewer people are going to want to take the chances of doing an entire eight years.
bump
Somehow I get the feeling if they were the type of folks who would have considered "America" They just wouldn't be so addled with angst right now
This gives all women in the military a bad name. I served for 5 1/2 years and not once did I ask for special treatment. Even when I became pregnant I still performed my job and actually did more than I had to because I didn't want anyone to say I got off easy. Most women in the military do their jobs and want to be treated the same as the men. There are plenty of people (men and women) who join the military and don't understand the hardships and sacrifices you have to make. It takes a special person to put on a uniform and live up to the obligations.
Maybe because it "isn't" fair. Female soldiers should be REQUIRED to be "vaccinated" against pregnancy with Norplant implants as a condition of service.
As to the twit in the article---it is difficult to work up sympathy for someone who signs a contract and then tries to wiggle out of it. She sounds like a typical liberal.
So sixteen year olds are allowed to sign contracts which legally commit them to the military for up to 8 years?
Isn't this odd considering that (as I understand it) sixteen year olds aren't allowed to vote, drink alcohol or marry without parental consent?
It should be mandatory for women on active military duty to use an IUD or Norplant (or be sterilized, if they prefer). Exceptions should be made on a case by case basis, based on the woman's function in the military and the military's needs for the foreseeable future. We don't have a draft, so nobody would be forcing women to use contraception or be sterilized. But if you sign up for a job like this, you have to be prepared to ensure you'll be fit to perform it.
People like this think the military is only about government handouts --- a nice fat welfare program and free scholarship money for college if they ever feel like going.
17, with parental consent, which, in this case, appears to have been given ...
"Her mother thought it was a good idea. Cristie was shy and quiet, with an innocence that Sendio thought needed to be tempered with confidence. A dose of the Army might do her good."
Recruiters have to spend too much time meeting their recruitment targets to keep going back and talking to people who have told them "No" in the first place. From the way it sounds, this little petunia kept stringing it along, maybe hoping that something better would come along .. like a husband or an out-of-the-blue college scholarship or maybe winning the lottery .. until it became time to sh*t or get off the pot. I always avoided recruiting duty because of the stress and long workdays involved .. and because I'm not really a people person .. but I have worked for and supervised ex-recruiters.
A firm "No" usually ends any recruitment contacts; a less-firm "No" can mean maybe one more approach. "Maybe's" and "possiblies" will continue the process but most contacts after two or three would be done by mail or telephone .. maybe email now. Anything more than that is a contact usually initiated by the potential recruit toward the recruiter.
She should have read her enlistment contract.
If she really wants to avoid duty in Iraq, she doesn’t have to get pregnant again. All she has to do is disobey the order – of course, there may be a penalty for doing that, but she won’t be required to be a soldier.
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