Once we had reached the airport, I had felt like crying. I do now anyway. It's hard what military children have to go through. We have to grow up before we're old enough.
There are a lot of themes in Romantic Literature, my favorite one is the loss of innocence. In many cultures, children are seen as the purest of beings until they reach a certain age where animal instinct kicks in. Military children experience this animal instinct earlier than most when one or both parents leave for a tour of duty overseas. My brother and I had to look after our mother while my dad was gone the first time. But I haven't gotten there yet.
My father already had an apartment picked out for us in Darmstadt, Germany. It was a beautiful neighborhood as far as apartment complexes went. They were a gaudy yellow and they were too plain compared to the beautiful German timbered houses. There was an old run-down playground behind the complex we stayed in, and my mom often found us getting splinters.
My fondest memory of that first stay in Germany was the walk through the forest that surrounded the block of apartment complexes in our area. There was a beautiful path through the forest so we could always find our way back if we had walked too far. I miss the trees. They were tall, strong, and beautiful trees. They always gave me a sense of security even in a place I had never been to before.
We didn't walk through the forest until halfway through the one year we were there. It was a beautiful long walk though. I felt as if I was walking through a fairytale forest with elves and fairies. The sun shone through the tops of the trees just right so that there were little beams of light that reached the forest floor. It was such a sight to see. I remember that we had walked for about thirty minutes until we reached a major German highway known as the Autobahn. We had to stop because the only path we could follow forward turned left or right down the sides of the Autobahn. My dad said that someday we would walk farther down those paths but again, another thing to look forward to that would never happen.
My teacher at the school, Mrs. Schreider, was American but she was also a fluent German speaker. We would spend the first half of the day speaking German until lunch, then we would speak English for the rest of the day. It was fun when you had friends to have fun with during class, but we were never allowed to speak unless we raised our hands. Mrs. Schreider was very strict and that's the only thing that kept her in my memory. I had asked someone in the bathroom if there were any paper towels left to dry my hands and I missed the first ten minutes of lunch because she heard me. I always think that it was a little too strict.
The only person who really helped me deal with the long days was my best friend Valerie Meyers. She and I were almost glued at the hip, and my brother was friends with her too. The last time we spoke was when I arrived in the united states after two tours in Germany.
There are a lot of themes in Romantic Literature, my favorite one is the loss of innocence. In many cultures, children are seen as the purest of beings until they reach a certain age where animal instinct kicks in. Military children experience this animal instinct earlier than most when one or both parents leave for a tour of duty overseas. My brother and I had to look after our mother while my dad was gone the first time. But I haven't gotten there yet.
My father already had an apartment picked out for us in Darmstadt, Germany. It was a beautiful neighborhood as far as apartment complexes went. They were a gaudy yellow and they were too plain compared to the beautiful German timbered houses. There was an old run-down playground behind the complex we stayed in, and my mom often found us getting splinters.
My fondest memory of that first stay in Germany was the walk through the forest that surrounded the block of apartment complexes in our area. There was a beautiful path through the forest so we could always find our way back if we had walked too far. I miss the trees. They were tall, strong, and beautiful trees. They always gave me a sense of security even in a place I had never been to before.
We didn't walk through the forest until halfway through the one year we were there. It was a beautiful long walk though. I felt as if I was walking through a fairytale forest with elves and fairies. The sun shone through the tops of the trees just right so that there were little beams of light that reached the forest floor. It was such a sight to see. I remember that we had walked for about thirty minutes until we reached a major German highway known as the Autobahn. We had to stop because the only path we could follow forward turned left or right down the sides of the Autobahn. My dad said that someday we would walk farther down those paths but again, another thing to look forward to that would never happen.
My teacher at the school, Mrs. Schreider, was American but she was also a fluent German speaker. We would spend the first half of the day speaking German until lunch, then we would speak English for the rest of the day. It was fun when you had friends to have fun with during class, but we were never allowed to speak unless we raised our hands. Mrs. Schreider was very strict and that's the only thing that kept her in my memory. I had asked someone in the bathroom if there were any paper towels left to dry my hands and I missed the first ten minutes of lunch because she heard me. I always think that it was a little too strict.
The only person who really helped me deal with the long days was my best friend Valerie Meyers. She and I were almost glued at the hip, and my brother was friends with her too. The last time we spoke was when I arrived in the united states after two tours in Germany.
