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Michael Hampton (left) and neighbor Shelley Collier wave goodbye to their kids as the bus takes them to school. 'We'll miss him,' Collier said, referring to Hampton's deployment to Afghanistan.
Theresa Hampton puts out her American flag on her way to work from her Dahlgren-area home. Her husband, Michael, is one of 30 members of a Fredericksburg-based National Guard unit now preparing for a year's duty in Afghanistan.
King George resident Michael Hampton kisses his son Christopher's hand after saying grace Thursday. The sergeant in the 229th Engineers Battalion was home briefly on medical leave from Fort Bragg, where his unit is preparing to be deployed overseas. |
Theresa Hampton slides around the kitchen, locked into the chaos of her morning routine.
It's 6:30 a.m. and the school bus is due soon. Lunches aren't packed. Dishes are piling up in the sink.
Six-year-old James counts out the six grapes he wants in his lunchbox. Eight-year-old Christopher searches for a missing folder. Twelve-year-old Elizabeth stuffs her backpack full.
In the dining room of their Dahlgren home, Michael Hampton referees--but steers clear of the fray. His wife is the captain of this ship, he is just a temporary passenger.
Hampton is 38 years old, a detention officer at Peumansend Regional Jail in Caroline County and one of 30 members of a Fredericksburg-based National Guard unit preparing to deploy to Afghanistan for a year.
While others in the 229th Engineer Battalion have been fine-tuning their skills at Fort Bragg, N.C., Hampton has spent two weeks at home recovering from hernia surgery.
He has traded camouflage for khakis and white T-shirts; the role of staff sergeant for that of Daddy.
The break has been a quiet respite from the grueling march to war, but also a frustrating interruption. When the familiar dull ache appeared less than a month into his training at Bragg, Hampton tried to ignore it.
But it eventually became too great. He had surgery Sept. 20, and was home in King George County that night.
Others in the 229th expect to head overseas sometime in the next two weeks. Hampton expects he'll be delayed at least month.
He may have more time with his family now, but he fears the tradeoff will be doing administrative work for a year. Stuck at a base, instead of interacting with Afghans.
"The only thing I can do is wait," Hampton says. "Wait and see."
Borrowed timeWhen Theresa Hampton kissed her husband goodbye two months ago today, she thought it was their final moment in each other's arms until next year.
But Michael came home in mid-September on a weekend pass, and again to heal.
The surprise stays have felt like borrowed time. She's had a few extra days with Michael there to lean on, to fuss with, to kiss goodbye in the mornings and hello at night.
Her schedule hasn't changed though. Theresa, an analyst with Anteon Corp., doesn't have vacation to spend with her husband. The children's buses still come at 7:04 and 8:05 a.m.
"The house runs on clockwork," Theresa says, "or the house doesn't run."
This is familiar territory for Hampton's family. The 17-year veteran of the National Guard has been deployed twice before, to Bosnia and to the Pentagon.
His latest mission is arguably his most dangerous. Afghanistan is a heavily mined war zone, a place where the average life expectancy is 42 years. It has become increasingly violent in the last month, as the country prepares for historic elections scheduled Saturday.
Theresa knows about the risks, but she tries to steer clear of news reports. She similarly tries to shelter her children.
"As far as saying, 'Your Daddy's going away to war?' No, I won't do that," she says. "The last thing I want them doing is curling up in a ball thinking about the what-ifs."
Hampton's children know he is leaving for a year. But he has already come home twice since they'd been told he wouldn't be back for a while.
Each visit brings another explanation: This may be the last time Daddy is home until the next school year starts.
"I don't think it's going to sink in until I'm overseas," Hampton says, "and they realize Daddy's not coming home in the next week or next two weeks."
The topic doesn't arise often around the children.
"Have you beat the 'Lord of the Rings' game yet?" Chris asks his father after Thursday's breakfast.
A long time ago, Michael replies.
"I thought you hadn't beat the tree people!" Chris says, and asks if he can please--pretty please--play it before school.
"No," his father says. "It's on its way over to Afghanistan."
Theresa knows her husband will head there soon, too. She knows that final goodbye is coming sometime soon. She knows she won't sleep well. At night, she has been dreaming that she's running.
No rest, she says.
Fleeting momentsPotatoes come to a boil. The steaks are ready, and the warm smell of Worcestershire sauce and oregano floats through the Hamptons' Bayberry home.
A rash of mini-crises have been resolved on this Thursday night. Christopher's homework is mostly finished. James has eaten a snack and dried his tears over having to do schoolwork. Elizabeth has set a September record for consecutive pogo stick jumps with 1,505.
Napkins are on the table. Places set. Steaming food is served. The family sits down for one of their final dinners together.
Hampton's two-week stay is nearly over; he's scheduled to report back at Fort Bragg in three days.
To Hampton, the visit home seemed to drag on, with nothing to do but rest. Theresa says the time quickly disappeared.
Hampton expects to return home before Afghanistan, but the visit will be short. His moments with his family are fleeting.
Before eating, the Hamptons lock hands and turn to 6-year-old James to lead them in prayer.
"Bless us, oh Lord," he begins, "for these, thy gifts."
To reach ROB DAVIS: 540/374-5418 rdavis@freelancestar.com
