Just call me sir!
Posted on July 10, 2009
In December of 1998 my father in law and I pinned on two gold bars to the shoulders of my wife Melissa. She had just been commissioned a 2Lt. in the United States Air Force. Married for barely 18 months and armed with little more than some shiny boots, 4 years of ROTC and a degree in Environmental Engineering so new the ink wasn’t dry, she was headed to serve in the USAF.
2 months and a trip to the Bahamas later she reported to Patrick Air Force base. Satellite Beach Florida is home to the 45th Space Wing. Engineering Group would be her home 8-4 Mon-Friday. Poolside at our apartment would be her weekend assignment. There are few Air Force officers compared to men. At Patrick there were even fewer than normal. Retired General’s wives outnumber female officers 10 – 1 at this tiny beach outpost.
I would drop her off at work every day. We had only one car and I needed it to get to the driving range and beach while she worked on our nation’s defense. She actually worked in Environmental Engineering saving endangered bats and designing Osprey nesting boxes on the base. I played golf and worked on my tan.
Anyhoo, at the gate the guard would look at me and salute me when I entered to pick her up. I figured its a perk of being married to an officer. We had the Blue DOD sticker and I enjoyed my status as a kept man and sole male member of the officers wive’s club. (I actually never joined.)
On occasion, while I was dressed in a Ron Jon’s t-shirt, goatee and ball cap, Melissa would be riding shotgun wearing her camo BDU’s and headgear with the aforementioned shiny bar. They still looked and saluted at me! Most boys at the gate never would look to the officer in the seat beside me.
When Melissa would call the super efficient Tri Care health care program for some need, they would ask some routine questions. What is your social security number ma’am. She would reply with 400-72-3687.*(Not her actual number) Then they would ask for the “sponsor’s” social. She would say 400-72-3687*. This should indicate to most customer service people that she, the patient, is also the active duty military sponsor. The customer service person would repeat, many times in a slower and louder voice, “No ma’am, I asked for the sponsor’s social.” Melissa would counter with “I am the sponsor.” They would retort, “No ma’am, we need the number of the military person.” “I AM THE MILITARY PERSON!”. Awkward for the customer service rep everytime.
We still joke about this all the time. But it got worse last week when I received my certificate of nomination from the American Legion. I quote:
In gratitude for your war-time service, this certifies that Bryan Suddith, upon meeting the strict requirements set forth by the Congress of the United States of America shall thereby be accepted for Official Membership in the American Legion.
Yeah. We laughed too. She is the vet. She served. She did the 4.5 years at LSU, home of the Fighting Tigers, two summers of training in San Antonio in June and July and can field strip an M-16 like nobody’s business. During war-time, I was poolside with a Red Stripe or home ironing her uniform. Thank her, but I will keep my certificate suitable for framing from the American Legion.
American Legion invite
** Her real number is 123-45-6789
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