BLOG: INDIRECT FIRE -- 1st entry: Pre-flight turbulence Published July 2, 2009 By Staff Sgt. Jacob Richmond 355th Fighter Wing Public Affairs DAVIS-MONTHAN AIR FORCE BASE, Ariz. -- Introductions and background first: I'm Staff Sgt. Jacob Richmond ("Jake" from here on out), a member of Davis-Monthan's public affairs team. I'm currently on my way to Iraq, where I'll be deployed for the next six months. Until arriving at D-M in November 2006, I had a different job in the Air Force - I was a weather forecaster. In that career field, I had several different positions, and none of them were considered "deployable." So, this is my first deployment since I enlisted in June 2000. As you might imagine, I'm definitely past due. Some of you may remember Jim Fisher, another Air Force sergeant blogging in this space about his deployment to Afghanistan (Six Months in Kabul). He was my boss for a while at Davis-Monthan, and I can tell you he's every bit the creative, resourceful, admirable noncommissioned officer that he seemed in his writings. He set a pretty high standard for this type of endeavor, and I hope his readers stop by here frequently. Just don't expect any soccer references - American football is this writer's casual obsession. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This is a story about family. For those of us in the military, there are two kinds: the one surrounding us on duty, and the one we leave behind to serve. I have plenty of affection for both. At the present moment, I'm on a commercial plane bound for Norfolk, Va. (via Houston). Norfolk is where I'll catch the plane that takes people like me to Southwest Asia. I just left my wife and 21-month-old son at the airport. Fortunately, I remembered that families were allowed to accompany their servicemembers all the way to the boarding gate before departure, so I got to spend an extra half-hour with them. I treasured every minute. For the record, I'm very much in love with my wife (she swears it's mutual), and my son and I are about as close as a daddy and baby boy can be. Of course, that didn't make the farewell any easier. The longest I've been gone from home since we had our son was about three weeks in May, while I was doing pre-deployment training in New Jersey. Basically, I have no idea how any of us is going to feel about this whole thing. Six months? Measured by memories, I guess it doesn't seem so long. We went skiing in January, and it feels like just a few weeks ago. But how will it feel when we're not all together? We have no idea. 179 days. One hundred and seventy-nine days apart. No matter how we dress it up, it's emotionally daunting. That said, I'd like to emphasize that my deployment - by all available measures - is a cake-walk compared to what soldiers and Marines have to endure. They're gone more often, they're gone longer, and maybe worst of all, they often have no idea when (or if) they'll come home again. That's why I'm humbly in awe of them - the true warriors and everyday heroes whose sacrifices make mine seem silly. Still, my toddler doesn't have such perspective, so I spent the last few days prepping him for the big goodbye. I honestly think he gets it. He woke up an hour early today, without provocation, which allowed us to easily pack up the car and get to the airport on time. Once my bags were checked, he was on his best behavior - but he insisted on staying in my arms the entire time. He didn't say much, but he kept dragging his hand across the back of my neck and absent-mindedly pressing his face softly into mine. Every few minutes, he'd nod his head and say, "Da-da. Ai-pane." My wife wept quietly and freely as I hugged our boy, and she continued when I put my arms around her. I wasn't even choked up. I've made peace with this whole thing, I told myself. No need to be sad about it anymore. With everyone else already on board, I made my way to the door. I noticed the gate attendant patiently waiting for me, wearing an expression of sincere empathy. Grateful, I stole one more look at my wife's wet face, and we exchanged waves. As I turned around, the tears came suddenly and heavily. I cried all the way to my seat, walking past all the other passengers. I cried as I waved at my wife and son, who were waving back at me, one big glass window and one little plastic window between us. Gaining altitude over the Tucson panorama, its familiar beauty pulled me from my melancholy. I let myself imagine the next time I'll be staring at those mountains through another little plastic window. Wow. That will be a great day. -- Jake Staff Sgt. Jacob Richmond is a member of the 355th Figther Wing Public Affairs office at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base, Ariz., deployed to Joint Base Balad, Iraq. He will be blogging throughout his deployment, and sharing his story with the Arizona Daily Star.