"Why are you here? Ever since you got back things have been so messed up? I wish that you would just live on the ship and stay gone! MR MIKE HAS BEEN A BETTER FATHER THAN YOU EVER WERE!"
Those were the words that my daughter said to me almost a year ago. My heart breaks just as much today as it did that day. I run through that one sentence over and over in my head. Fuck, I'm about to start crying again. Give me a minute...
That is how I found out that my wife of 8 years was cheating on me. I had just returned from a 12 month deployment on my ship. The USS Mount Vernon was deployed over in the Middle East to launch Marines and other ground support. It initially started out as a six month deployment, but the Marines had to stay longer. We were their ride back, so their delayed return home was also our delayed return.
My Rate (or job title for all of you civilians) is an Electronics Technician. My job onboard the Mt. Vernon was to fix the IFF (Identification Friend or Foe). That is just a fancy name. Basically, my equipment identifies which ships and planes are American (or American Allies), and which ones are not. I won't go into all of the technical data (it would bore the shit out of you), but my job was important.
My Division (or shop for that matter) had 19 other ET's in it besides me. We all went to school for different equipment (Radar, radios, phones, etc). When something wasn't working the way it was supposed to work, we were the shop that you called.
Of all of the Techs in my shop, Hanson (in the Navy, we use last names) was my best bud. Hanson actually grew up on a farm before he joined the Navy. I'm from Chicago, so I never really thought people grew up on farms. I'm not a complete idiot. I knew there were farms, per se, but I never actually imagined that a child would grow up milking cows and breeding horses.
We became best buds because he provided a service that I desperately needed. Cut the Navy jokes out, I'm not talking about that! He was the one who maintained the Satellite phone. On a ship with 400 Sailors and 400 Marines clamoring for the ship's pay phones to call their loved ones, this friendship was a God Send. It was because of him that I was able to call home for free, and do so without waiting in line. You see, Hanson knew how to tap into the VIP's phone lines. When a VIP was away from his State Room (standing watch, eating in the Chow Hall, watching a movie in the Officer's Lounge, etc) , I was free to tap into his/her line and talk. I was the only enlisted guy on the ship with this privilege. Hanson could just as well have used this knowledge, but he had no one to call.
Now I know that this doesn't sound like a big deal, but it was. These were the days before Skype and Video Chat. We had three forms of communication. Airmail, Email and Telephone. Yes telephone, not cell phone. There were cell phones around, but they weren't as common as they are today. They were about the size of a remote control and costs $.10 a minute. There were no night's and weekend minutes, and unlimited data. They were used for talking only, not texting or instant messaging. Get the picture?
With this gift of infinite free phone time I called my wife. She was the only person worth taking a risk like this for. I missed her every second of every day. When I woke up in the morning, I ached to reach over and cuddle her. When I sat down in the lounge to watch TV, I reminisced about our quality time sitting in front of the tube. When I went to bed at night, I dreamed of running my hand across her skin and...you get the point.
I wasn't able to call Alicia every night, but I could safely give her a ring about 4 times a week. I had to be careful and make sure that the VIP's weren't using the phone at the time. It actually cost the Navy something ridiculous like $2.00 per minute for me to use the phone, so you can imagine the kind of trouble I could get in if I were discovered. I made sure to limit my calls and use different VIP's so that the Navy would just think it was them making the calls and not investigate it.
Back before I was able to call home via the VIP's lines, we had to settle for 30 minutes once a week just like everyone else on the ship. For those of you who have never been in the service, let me tell you that 30 minutes once a week is NOT ENOUGH. It's just enough to make you more miserable. You get to hear all about what your family is doing in your absence, but you have to settle for the abbreviated version. You can't really connect to your wife and daughter in the time it takes a sit com to wrap up. It sucks. Trust me.
When I first left on this deployment, my girls missed me like crazy. I was all they had. When the Navy stationed me in San Diego to serve on a ship for the first time in my career, I had to move them away from all that we've known. Both Alicia and my family were left behind. We were out there with no one but the three of us. With me being gone on this tour, they were even more alone. It was like a taking one of the legs off of a table. Nothing was stable anymore. The team had a big piece missing.
We put on a brave face and did our best to deal with the cards that were dealt. I got care packages in the mail. We e-mailed each other every day. When I called, it was like Alicia's whole day stopped until we got off the phone. No matter what she had planned, she would cancel them to talk to me. Because of the time differences, my call could come through at any odd hour. No matter what time it was, she was always there to pick up.
Before Hanson, that 30 minute call was what the entire week revolved around. It was our lifeline. It was the only thing keeping us together. All three of us relished it. But it was hell.
When I was able to call more often, They began to settle down relax. We got into the routine of our lives. They no longer felt that they had to keep vigilant watch on the phone for fear that they would miss my call. Don't get me wrong, they still missed me, but it wasn't the empty kind of missing where you just have a memory keeping you warm. We were able to laugh, talk for a while, and connect. Alicia and I even had phone sex a couple of times. Well, she did. I just listened. Hey, I was not going to pull my dick out and just start jerking away. At any moment the door could open, and the next thing you know I am the butt of a LOT of masturbating jokes. Trust me, I've seen it happen.
.
Then we got the announcement from the Captain. The one that changed everything.
When I'd been deployed for 4 months, he gave us the unfortunate news that our deployment was being extended for at least 3 months. Instead of the 6 months we were scheduled, it was more like 9 months. To say I was heart-broken would be an understatement. I was CRUSHED! I dreaded my next call to Alicia. I knew it would break her heart, just as it did mine.
"Hello? Jason is that you?"
"Yeah babe, it's me. How is everything?"
"Everything sucks. I miss my man. Can't wait until you come home. You have no idea how much I miss you."
"Yeah babe, about that..."
And thus I gave her the news. Let me tell you, there is no feeling in the world like the empty, hollow, gut punch you get when you have to be the one to tell your wife you aren't coming home. I could actually feel the happiness being sucked out of her.
All things considered, she took the news well. Savannah however, did not. Her disappointment quickly turned to anger when she asked me when I was coming home. Three months may not sound like a long time, but in kid years it is FORVER. I tried to down play it and remain upbeat, but neither she nor my wife bought it.
That extension was actually the turning point in our relationship. I didn't know it at the time, but that was when the trouble began. It was after this phone call that a disturbing pattern started to emerge.
The first thing that happened was she started missing my phone calls. It was excusable though. Since the time difference was so extreme I could be calling anywhere between 1 pm or 3 am, there was no way that she could hold up her life in anticipation. My ship crossed so many time zones that I stopped keeping up with what time it was back home. So, I wasn't too concerned with her missing a couple of calls. This might have been a problem when I was only able to call once a week. Since the phone tap knowledge, I could call her whenever I wanted. At this point it was a minor annoyance.
When I did catch her, she was still the same warm and loving wife who missed her husband. She said all of the nice things that I needed and expected to hear. She still talked about how she wanted me between her legs. She was still madly in love with me. There was no reason for me to suspect her cheating.
Savannah was a different story. I noticed the change in her immediately. She became little more distant and solemn when we spoke. All yes or no questions were answered with just a yes or just a no. Our conversations became more and more one sided. I had to practically interrogate her to find out how her day was in school. I knew that she was hurting and missing me, so I just let her know that I loved her and I would see her soon.
Over time, the pattern of missed calls starting becoming more and more apparent. It eventually reached a point where I would have to call 3 or 4 times before I even got her on the phone. When I asked her why she was rarely available to answer the phone, she got defensive. She explained it away well enough. She was at the grocery store, she took Savannah to the movies, she was at the gym, etc. She always gave me these excuses with a tone of indignant annoyance.
I tried to back off. I didn't want her to feel guilty about not waiting by the phone. I swallowed my anger when I finally got her on the phone. I put my best face forward and tried to keep our talks light. She seemed to be okay with it, but I was going insane. By month 6, I was practically pulling my hair out.
All of this time, I never actually thought she was cheating. The stress of deployment can get to even the most devoted couple. I knew that there were "West Pac Widows", but I never thought Alisha would fall into that category. For those of you who don't know what that is, let me explain.
My ship is based in San Diego, California. For those of you who understand Geography, California is on the West Coast of the United States. West Pac is actually short for West Pacific, which is the ocean that California borders. When a ship on the west coast leaves for a long deployment, it is usually called a West Pac. For the wives left at home, they are considered West Pac Widows. Usually, this term only applies to the wives who are "on the stroll" as soon as the ship sails out of sight.
I started to get that nagging feeling in my gut after our conversation. It wasn't that she was any less loving. It was just that something wasn't right. There was a puzzle piece that was missing. I couldn't ignore it, but bringing it up would do more damage than good. What could I do from 3000 miles away?
My gut feeling became justified in my eighth month of the cruise. We were supposed to be heading home, but we hadn't gotten the word yet. There was a hushed nervousness in the air. The crew was practically on pins and needles. We went through our day, holding our breath. We had one month left, and nobody wanted to jinx it. People even stopped watching porn as they prepared their man-meat for real pussy. Our dreams were shattered by the announcement that our tour was being extended yet again.
"We're fine Jason. You just do your job and come home. We'll still be here when you get back."
This is what she said to me when I broke the news to her. I was surprised at how well she took it. She didn't get upset, didn't sound disappointed, didn't even tell me that she missed me. She sounded so calm and clinical about it that I had to make sure that she heard me right.
I was dejected. I tried not to let it show. I mean, I didn't want her to fall apart like she did last time, but damn! She sounded like I just told her how hot it was over here. We talked, but she was so cool about the news that I wasn't coming home that I knew something was wrong. When we finally got off of the phone, I told her "I love you."
She returned with a flat "Luv you too." Then the line disconnected.
I tried to call her throughout the week. Sometimes she would be there, sometimes she would be gone. When we did talk, our conversations were just like that first one. They became more about me getting information than making a connection. My daughter grew more disinterested in talking to me. It was like she was bored. Even though we could talk for hours, our calls didn't last much longer than 25 - 30 minutes.
After each call, I felt more alone than I did before I called. I felt miserable being brushed to the side by the only 2 people that I gave a shit about. My family was slipping further and further away from me, and I was helpless to stop it. It was like I was in the passenger seat of my life. I had no control of the direction that my marriage was going. All I could do was hope the driver knew where he how to get there.
