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Overview
As the wife of a Marine Corps officer, Mollie Gross learned the hard way to laugh instead of cry at what she could not control—and as she quickly discovered, nearly everything was out of her control.
A standup comedienne, Mollie explores everything about the “issued” spouse, from deployment and the stress of having a husband in a combat zone, to the realization that marriage changes when your husband returns home from war. Nothing is taboo or out-of-bounds in this funny, poignant memoir, including the “parties” military wives throw for themselves before hubby returns. (You’ll have to read the book to find out about those.)
“Mollie Gross is the Chelsea Handler of the milspouse community. She’s unfiltered, honest, and hilarious, with an underlying message to stop whining and be proud. Think of it as heartfelt humor for the home front.” — Military Spouse magazine
“Mollie’s no-holds-barred account of what it was like during her first four years of being married to a Marine, dealing with the moves, wartime deployments, and life on the home front, will leave you laughing, crying, and shaking your head in disbelief asking, ‘Did she really just say that!?’” — Kristine Schellhaas, founder of USMC Life
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781611210507 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Savas Beatie |
| Publication date: | 02/20/2019 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 305 |
| File size: | 4 MB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
BEFORE
A noise startles me awake. I look over at the clock on my nightstand and see it's 2:00 a.m. My heart starts racing. I reach out for my husband — seeking comfort and safety — but realize he's not there. My Marine is in the field, which means I'm on my own.
I hear more noises and now I'm sure an intruder is in my house. While I'm scared, I'm also pissed. As the wife of an infantryman who is always gone, I have had to learn to fend for myself.
I slowly reach for the Taser under the bed, but can't find it. Now I'm in complete panic mode and begin to move quickly.
"Where is the damn mace?" I wonder as I crawl along the floor headed for the bathroom. That's when I realize the mace is by the front door.
Adding to my rising anxiety, I am now on the opposite side of the room. I'm too far away from the phone to be able to quickly call for help.
I hear someone rummaging through our cabinets! I take comfort in the fact that we survive on a meager $400 a week, which means there is nothing worth stealing in this house.
Still, I am chilled to the bone with fear. I try to take comfort in the fact that I live in base housing, which is guarded by men carrying guns. I'm one of the few who continues to lock my doors. I know anyone who really wanted to could get on base.
I grab a can of generic strawberry body spray and hold it in front of me in a defiant gesture of self-defense as I slowly move down the hall.
I find myself thinking, "Why did I leave South Carolina to be here by myself all the time? My husband is never around to protect me; he's too busy fighting for other people! Why didn't I marry a banker? Do banker's wives have to fight off intruders by themselves in the middle of the night?"
By now my breathing is so shallow that I have become dizzy with fear and a lack of oxygen.
I creep into the laundry room, where I hear the intruder. I hold up the can, ready to fight him off with body spray. There is someone in the room with me.
I flip on the light and come face-to-face with a nude man! As he spins toward me I see his camouflage-painted face and we both scream. I spray him directly in the face with a generous amount of my special strawberry and cream repellent before taking off running down the hall.
Within seconds, a pair of muscled arms grab me around the waist and I begin yelling "RAPE!" I turn to face my attacker. His black, brown, and green face is staring at me just inches from my own.
That's when it registers. The face with the strange colors belongs to my husband. By now his eyes are swollen and he's coughing.
In unison, we ask, "What is wrong with you? What are you doing?"
He's the first to answer.
"We got done in the field early, so I thought I'd surprise you."
"Some surprise," I respond angrily. "You're lucky I keep the mace by the front door."
Relieved, I escort my nude and very dirty Marine to the bathroom, where I spray him down to get all the dirt and camo face paint off.
As his smile emerges, my fear and anger begin to melt away. I haven't seen him for days, and realize how good it is to have my love home.
My anxiety melts away as he takes me in his arms. I feel safe and whole again.
We laugh and then I kiss lips that still smell of strawberries.
As we head for the bedroom, I think, "Let those other women marry bankers. I've got myself a Marine."
FINDING LOVE AT A FISH FRY
Jon and I met at a fish fry. My roommate was dating a graduate from the Citadel, a military college in South Carolina. His mother decided to host a company party at the end of the summer to reunite the boys of Hotel (H) Company.
I wasn't interested in going to the party. I already had a date with another Citadel graduate I had picked up while driving my car down Rosewood Avenue.
Plus, I was, well, boy crazy. As my mother put it, "blink and you might miss one" of my boyfriends.
So I had other plans for that night and they didn't involve a fish fry in the country. However, my girlfriend begged me to come with her so she wouldn't be the only girl there. She cinched the deal by assuring me there would be plenty of cute boys to flirt with throughout the day.
As we were getting ready for the party, she pulled out the Citadel yearbook so I could check out some of the guys who would be at the party.
That's when my eyes settled on 2nd Lieutenant Jon Gross. He was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen — a great tan, dark hair, and gorgeous hazel eyes.
I couldn't contain myself. "Who's that," I screamed.
"Jon? He joined the Marines right after college, but no one's heard from him since. He won't be attending the party," she assured me. I was bummed.
"He's too quiet for you anyway, Mollie," she explained. "He never had a girlfriend in college — spent all his time studying instead."
At the fish fry I did my best to flirt with all the guys, but my heart wasn't really into it. (I had been raised in the South, so flirting comes naturally.)
While I was eating, I looked up and caught my breath! Walking up the driveway was the guy from the yearbook — Jon Gross.
As the other guests cheered his arrival, I knew my mystery cutie from the yearbook had walked into my life.
His friends exclaimed, "Gross, where have you been?"
They were all surprised to see him, particularly since no one knew where he was. He replied that he driven to South Carolina on a whim after completing his training at TBS (The Basic School) with the USMC in Virginia. "I was hoping to visit with some of my old buddies."
When I finally got to meet him, I found myself tongue-tied. I just couldn't get any words out. This struck me as odd, as I never run out of things to say.
Later I was able to talk to him as we stood outside by the fry pits. I had been flirting hard with Ging Gaddy, the host's 80-year-old grandfather, when I caught Jon's eye.
As we talked about his training in Quantico I told him my grandparents always shopped at the PX there, but that my grandfather had just died.
He looked in my eyes and replied, "I'm so sorry to hear that."
The more we talked, the more I was drawn to this powerfully intense and yet quiet man. I could sense his humility. He had such an air of calmness and quiet confidence. I was falling in love, but didn't realize it yet.
Then it was time for me to leave since I had a date with another Citadel graduate. The boys at the party knew what a party girl I was and tried to keep me from leaving. I told them I had a hot date and was more interested in making out with my date than I was in hanging out with them.
As I headed home to get prepared for my evening, something told me to change my plans. I called my roommate and asked her to invite the boys over for an after-party. Then I drove home and called my date to invite him to the Citadel party at my house.
My date and I sat on the couch and chatted until my roommate showed up with the rest of the party. I looked up to see my yearbook mystery man walking over to sit beside me on the couch. It felt odd, but also completely comfortable.
We began talking about everything — movies we liked, what was on the TV — and then my cat climbed up on his lap and started purring. I had never seen him do this with any of my dates. That was it for me. I knew I wanted to spend more time with this man.
As we talked through the evening, I decided he was the most sincere, humble, and honorable man I had ever met. In fact, he reminded me so much of my grandfather.
There are many men who could be your boyfriend, but there is only one type of man you want to marry and spend the rest of your life with. He was just that man.
We agreed to become pen pals since he was training about forty-five minutes away from my parent's home in Virginia.
While I was writing my address in his daily planner, I asked him a serious question: "If you aren't married in ten years, will you marry me?"
He didn't miss a beat: "Yes. You're the most exciting person I've ever met. I wanted to be with you from the first moment I saw you."
Well, that just took my breath away.
My poor date, in the meantime, was sitting on the porch talking to a group of people. I arranged to have one of Jon's buddies get rid of him.
I knew I wanted to be with Jon for the rest of that night. We continued to talk and later shared our first kiss.
We still argue about who kissed whom, but I think it was pretty mutual.
OPPOSITES DO ATTRACT
After that first kiss we wrote every week and talked on the phone whenever we could. We savored every conversation and poured our hearts into every letter. It was painful being separated from Jon.
Meeting Jon was like a completion of me. He had every quality I lacked and yet always admired. He was patient, calm, stable, and content.
In me, he found all the attributes he didn't possess. I was the center of attention, loud, hyper, enthusiastic, and outgoing.
For the first time we each had found a partner we could trust completely without judgment. Although our temperaments were complete opposites, we realized we had much in common. It was easy to fall in love.
I would drive seven hours to my parents' house on Fridays so we could see each other. On our first dinner date, Jon tried to explain what I was getting myself into. He stressed that he was attached to the Navy and could be deployed at any time. And he wanted me to know that the Marine Corps had an eighty-five percent divorce rate.
I suggested we slow down a little and try talking about hobbies or books we had read. My girlfriend had been right about this guy; he really didn't date much. Why, I didn't know: he was so cute and charming.
And he attempted to seduce me by rattling off random statistics about the Marine Corps. We all know Marines are natural romantics.
The attack of September 11 unfolded right after we started dating. I became frightened when I couldn't get through on the phone to Quantico. I had no idea where he was or what he was doing. American lives were forever changed, and so did my relationship with this incredible man.
I think we both realized then that life in the military would mean more than being stationed around the world. We both recognized that war was a very real part of our future together.
Jon had started IOC (Infantry Officers Course) after he finished TBS (The Basic School) at Quantico. Now he drove seven hours every weekend to visit me in South Carolina. I was so honored by the sacrifices he was making just to spend time together.
Jon got orders to ship out to Camp Pendleton. I knew that his Military Occupational Service (MOS) in the infantry would mean he would be deployed for six of every eighteen months. This also meant that he would soon be sent into the war zone.
I was living in South Carolina and could not imagine how difficult it would be to maintain a long-distance relationship. When I initially began to date Jon I hadn't thought much about it when he was stationed three states away. We treasured our time, but I knew that I couldn't nurture or add to the relationship when I was so far away. I had made up my mind.
I had known from the beginning that I would marry Jon. The only question was when. Of course, I also realized that the military dictates the "whens" in your life.
Jon, meanwhile, was worried he was asking so much of me. He wasn't sure I would like life as a military wife, or that I would like being alone. By marrying him, I would be leaving my friends, family, and career. It was a lot to ask of a woman. After all, you have to be strong to give up so much for someone else.
But marrying Jon was a no-brainer for me. I was in love and knew I wanted to be with him. I wanted to support him in what he was about to endure.
The reasons Jon gave to convince me to marry him:
1. "I'll never get on your nerves, 'cuz I'll always be gone."
2. "You can have all the closet space, 'cuz I wear the same thing every day."
3. "You can have as many babies as you want, 'cuz it's free."
Jon went to Idaho to spend Christmas with his family and made arrangements to fly me to his hometown on Christmas Day. I know my parents were disappointed. We had always spent Christmas together. But they didn't complain because they thought the world of Jon. They had grown fond of him during those weekends in Virginia.
Not only had I not flown by myself in a really long time, but I was also nervous about meeting Jon's family. I knew this visit was significant.
On the flight I was seated next to a guy who was more freaked about his holiday trip than I was. Before the plane took off, he confided that he was afraid of flying. He said the doctor had given him some pills, but he was concerned they hadn't taken effect. That's when he popped open a lunch box that looked like a miniature pharmacy and swallowed half of another pill.
We continued chatting about our destinations. I, of course, kept going on and on about Jon.
By the time the plane hit some turbulence, this guy's nervous energy had gotten to me. Now I was in full panic mode.
He cracked open the lunch box again. This time he offered me half a pill. Being young and naïve, I accepted it. What was I thinking taking pills from a stranger seated next to me on an airplane? Can you say Roofie?
No matter. I was no longer worried about the flight. When the flight attendant offered each of us a free drink because it was Christmas, I thought, "How nice of the airline!" We each indulged in a Bloody Mary and continued bonding over our free drinks and the free spirit we had ingested.
When I woke up an hour later, my new best friend and I were cuddled up drooling all over each other. As the plane was landing, I also realized I was completely wasted.
It had been three weeks since I had seen Jon and there he was, standing in the baggage area holding a bouquet of flowers! And there I was, stumbling along with my arm around my new best friend, who was carrying my luggage.
Can you imagine what Jon must have been thinking? Thank God my barbiturate peddling friend had the presence of mind to shake Jon's hand and tell him how he had saved the day on the flight by providing calming narcotics while I provided the wonderful, calming conversation throughout the flight.
Even though Jon proposed that weekend, he didn't have a ring to give me, nor had he asked my father for his blessing. The next weekend he went to see my dad armed with a jumbo bag of pistachio nuts and a case of Miller Lite. It was probably the toughest mission my Marine had faced up to that point.
My poor quiet Jon. He sat through two hours of basketball before he got the courage to ask for my hand in marriage. How many of my dad's farts did he have to endure over those hours? He should have brought his gas mask for this mission!
When he showed my parents the ring, my daddy cried. They were so pleased to have Jon as their "newest" son. With their blessing we decided to elope the following weekend.
THE DILLON COUNTY WEDDING CHAPEL
Six months after our first meeting, Jon and I said, "I do" in a cheesy place called South of the Border, which is known for its cheap cigarettes and fireworks. It was the only place we could find in three states that would process the paperwork while Jon was in the field.
Part of the urgency stemmed from Jon's need to make sure that I would be PCSing (permanent change of station: moving) with him to Camp Pendelton. Bottom line: time was of the essence. I needed to become his "dependent" and get that amazing military ID card that opens all the doors.
I was thrilled. I'd always wanted to elope. My parents were very supportive since they had eloped themselves. Because mother's parents were stationed in the Philippines, they knew they couldn't wait three years for their return to the states. My mother had grown up as an Air Force brat, so she understood the military doesn't give you time to plan a big wedding.
Some people were freaked about our plans, however. After all, I had only known this guy for six months and now we were moving across country where I would have no family, no friends, and no job. Worst of all, he would constantly leave me. People were less than supportive, and they let me know about it.
Regardless, I continued making plans. I found a wedding dress for $20 and waited to hear from Jon, who was in the field.
Finally, it was time. My girlfriend and Jon's college buddy, who would be our witnesses, joined us for the drive to the wedding chapel.
On the front door was a sign announcing, "Shoes and shirts required." Apparently some of the couples getting married were not complying with these simple rules.
The couple in front of us informed the clerk that their divorces had been finalized the day before and they wanted to wear matching sweatsuits as they walked down the aisle.
She completed her lovely ensemble with a rented veil from the quaint boutique adjacent to the chapel. In fact, they had a number of items for rent to enhance your wedding day. Imagine: red cummerbunds, an all-white tuxedo, and a complete selection of plastic flower bouquets. Thank God my roommate had thought to buy me an elegant bouquet of white roses with a single red one in the center.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Confessions of a Military Wife"
by .
Copyright © 2015 Mollie Gross.
Excerpted by permission of Savas Beatie LLC.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Introduction,
Acknowledgments,
Chapter One BEFORE,
Chapter Two THE DITY MOVE FROM HELL,
Chapter Three SETTLING IN: MY FIRST WEEKS,
Chapter Four LIFESTYLES OF THE MILITARY,
Chapter Five PRE-DEPLOYMENT,
Chapter Six DEPLOYMENT,
Chapter Seven REUNION,
Chapter Eight ON THE L.A.M. (LIFE AFTER THE MILITARY),
Glossary,
The 2015 Update,
Shades of Camo,
Yearbook!,
Turn to the back to use this book as your own yearbook section,
A gallery of photos,