My Friends Were Army Brats

How They Are Different from Other People

I remember the first time I went to a private school I was in the 10th grade. Sometimes we got to start the school year off with all the other students at the same time, but more often we began school after classes had already started. The first day in school was always nerve-wracking for me because I really did not know anybody. Of course, everybody else was in the same boat, us all being from military families, so we were all nervous together.

One of the things that happened because of this is we learned how to make friends quickly. It resulted in white-hot relationships. You had to. Neither one of you had much time.

The goodbyes got harder and harder as every year went by. I haven’t kept track of any friends from school. I know one of my girlfriends was in South Africa for years, but I don’t know where she is now. I caught up with a friend from the Catholic high school I went to. We don’t talk much now but I see what she is up to on Facebook sometimes.

The goodbyes got harder and harder as every year went by. I haven’t kept track of any friends from school. I know one of my girlfriends was in South Africa for years, but I don’t know where she is now. I caught up with a friend from the Catholic high school I went to. We don’t talk much now but I see what she is up to on Facebook sometimes.

There was one boy I went to school with twice. We were together in Oslo, Norway for a couple of years. Of course, in those days I didn’t talk to boys, but he was in the gang of boys the boy I was sweet on belonged to. I never did tell that boy I was sweet on him. I always fell for the funny, bad boys. Turns out I married one later in life.

I remember in one of the 11th grades I was in (2 schools) I couldn’t take my eyes off a guy who was a teacher’s assistant in the Chemistry class I was taking. He moved about the lab equipment while the rest of us were in class. It took us 3 days before we spoke. That’s how you approach someone you knew before. You know you know this person, but you don’t know where from. Then, once you’ve figured it out it’s like you are family. It doesn’t matter that we weren’t close in the 6th grade. Five years later we were almost grown. I’ve lost track of him again, but every once in a while, I google him just on the off chance.

Anyway, I’d been in two schools during the 9th grade. The first became overcrowded with students and so some of us got sent to another school that year a couple of weeks into the school year.

From Salina, Kansas, we moved to Maryland, and I found myself at a Catholic high school for the 10th grade. This was the first time I’d ever been in a private school and the very first time in my life I went to school with people who had known each other since they were babies. It was very, very strange.

Unfortunately, for me, I had never encountered cliquish behavior. I also had a reputation the first day I walked into class. They were all dressed in uniforms, blue jackets, plaid skirts for the girls, and ties and dark pants for the boys. The only spot of color ended up being sweater vests we wore under our jackets as the weather got colder.

That first day I was wearing a dress I had sewn myself. It was a cheery yellow and white checkered empire waist A-line with puffy sleeves. I was also wearing round John Lennon glasses. Somebody told me later they all thought I was a hippie. I suppose I was, but I didn’t think so at the time.

It also turned out they thought all military kids were rough around the edges. I suppose we might have been. Maybe they were all high-class folks, who came from money and such. I wonder what they would have thought if they knew my descendants had been traced back to Charlemagne.

It was an interesting year, but I refused to go back to 11th grade as I was so miserable there. Come Christmas time there was a prom of sorts. The only one I ever went to. My boyfriend, my first, was sort of a hothead. I remember when he first spoke to me, I was so tongue-tied I couldn’t respond. He got angry at me and walked away. Somehow, I apologized. My fault. Right. Just because I didn’t know how to talk to boys.

We ended up dating. Mostly making out in his father’s Ford Fairlane. I think that was where I learned to smoke and drink.

The tragedy occurred the night of the prom. We were fiddling around in his father’s car. He said to me, “Are you sure?” I didn’t know what he was talking about but said, “Yes”. Turns out I lost my virginity that night. I remember thinking, “Why not? Now is as good a time as any.” Yes, I know, that was sort of messed up. Also, my lovely dress’ zipper split. It was after the dance when some of the girls and the mother of whoever was throwing the party helped me safety-pin up the back of the dress.

The next morning, I was shunned. Everybody was talking about how he and I had sex that night. Well, it was true, but how did the whole school of 350 students know about it? Right. That’s how I learned how fast rumors can fly in a small community and the first time and only time in my life I was ever shunned.

I didn’t talk to anybody about it. He and I were no longer girlfriend and boyfriend. In fact, he never spoke to me again. I sat by myself on the bus. I cried an awful lot. I vowed I would never have friends again.

I just dropped out emotionally.

Somehow, I finished the school year and told my parents I was never returning. They never asked me why. I figured they just didn’t want the added expense of another kid in parochial school. So, the next school year, in the 11th grade for half a year I went happily enough to the local high school and met a bunch of other Army brats who knew how to be friends.

We accepted each other exactly how we found each other. I do know that about Army brats. No cliques. No expectations. Just friends. Fast friends.

In the middle of the 11th grade, we moved again. Thirteen schools in twelve years. Yeah, that does something to you.

That’s the first time I’ve ever told that whole story fifty-one years after it happened.