How’s the weather?”

In Civilian life, that question is a “safe one”. One that is used to either avoid a conversation, or lighten one up. Or end one.

I use it a little differently. I use it to open up conversations with Post 9/11 Service Members. I use it to open up as much of their history as they want to share. It goes like this:

“Have you been deployed?”

“Yeah.”

I find that many young Service members are reluctant to share their stories with us old guys, and even with their age group who are Civilians. One word answers, or which Branch they served in, or number of deployments- are the most common.

“Did you go to the Sandbox, or Death Valley?”

Usually a chuckle or smile follows.

“Both.”

“What’s the weather like?”

“Oh man, in Afghanistan it is the weirdest thing. You can be in mud up to your knees, you are freezing, and sand is blowing in your face. When you take a shower you have to wear tennis shoes because you might get electrocuted in those old Russian Buildings.”

Or: “What’s the weather like?”

“Oh, Dude. It is hot. Sand is everywhere. And I mean everywhere. I don’t mean Phoenix Hot, or New Orleans Humid Hot, I mean pizza oven hot. In fact, if you throw sand in a pizza oven, you’d be pretty close. The whole Middle East is like that. It grows on you though. Desert Sunsets are pretty spectacular. You get so it is a minor inconvenience to have sand in everything- including your food. And the sand doesn’t feel like beach sand.”

From there, well, it goes as far- and deep- as they want to share. One girl and guy (Met on deployment and got married when they got home) told me all about building a school/orphanage in their off duty time. The troops built it to do something constructive. They said once it got built, the Command took credit. It made them both mad... and made them laugh.

Another guy told me about something he had done he was ashamed of. It was the right thing to do in that situation - but he was ashamed of it. I just listened without judging. War doesn’t leave much room for moral judgements when any person might be wired, or on their cell phone to set off an IED. It sucks when Intelligence is off by a couple of addresses. Shit happens. You aren’t to blame.

Another young lady, only thirty three years old- Purple Heart, only one leg, and burn scars on her side and face- told me this story.

“I got my driver out. And the TAC. Then I kinda ran out of blood.”

“How did you feel when you got home?”

She smiled at me and patted my head like I was a little boy that didn’t understand …but meant well.

“Sarge, that girl that went over to Iraq did not come home. She tapped her plastic leg with her ring…this one did. I like this girl more. She gets it.”

All those conversations started with: “How’s the weather?”