This weekend I got the chance to drive to the nearby National Guard base where the Tennessee Air National Guard’s 118th Airlift Wing is stationed along with some Army National Guard units as well. There was an FRG meeting happening on Saturday morning and a wife whose husband is part of the 118th had suggested I come talk to the group and let them know about what we’re doing with Wives of Faith.

I’m always a little nervous when I head to a military installation by myself, especially one I’ve never been to before. But after getting clear directions from Sherri, the family program coordinator there, I got there okay. Since I hadn’t yet gotten my military ID changed back to reserve from active reserve and it was six months after the expiration date, I was warned not to show my ID but instead, just my driver’s license, since the guys at the gate would be required to take the ID from me if they saw it, and then once inside, I could go ahead and get my ID renewed after I finished talking at the FRG meeting.

My little part at the meeting went fine. I always love letting other women know about our group because I see it as one more option they may not have had before to use for connecting with other wives and finding encouragement and support.

So my main task finished, I made my way back downstairs and after stopping a couple of people in uniform and asking for directions, I found the small room in the back of the building where they deal with ID cards. Being the first weekend of the month, I’d forgotten it was a drill weekend, and when I opened the door, I remembered pretty quickly since most of the chairs were full.

Surrounded by ACUs and already feeling a little out of place in my shirt and jeans, I put my name on the list, took a seat by the door and waited. When you’re not used to being around people in uniform, it’s always a little intimidating when you are. You know the time and training these people have put in to wear that uniform and you know it’s not a club to which you belong. Add to that the fact that you’re a reserve wife, and the intimidation grows even more.

Just a couple of minutes after I sat down, a woman in uniform walked over and asked what I needed. I told her I needed to renew my spouse card.

“Do you have Form 11-something?” she asked.

Why is there always a form involved… I thought but kept my question to myself.

“No, Sherri had said I just needed my  ID and I have my driver’s license.”

“Well, you really need Form 11– if your husband isn’t with you but as long as you have two forms of photo ID, we can do it. But I have all of these guys to do first so it will take a while.”

“I don’t mind waiting,” I told her.

So I waited. I looked around the room. Four men, two women all sat in chairs. I wondered if the women had kids at home, how they juggled their drill weekends with everything else. I watched one man text on his blackberry and another talk low on his cell phone which was a little surprising since my husband had told me once when we were at his base that I couldn’t talk on my phone while we were waiting in the same kind of office. Maybe the rules were a little different here. Maybe that was one of the perks of being Air Force over Navy.

Just then, one of the women in uniform from behind the counter came out and locked the door. “I’m locking up now for lunch,” she informed us. I checked my watch. It was 10:30 a.m. I guessed they were serious about their lunch times not being interrupted and were heading off extra business before they could take a seat.

One at a time, the number of people in the room lessened as they were helped with whatever problem they had or needed done. But as one man got done and walked out the door, there was a woman on the other side who stuck her head in.

“Ma’am, we’re closed for lunch right now,” the petite woman in uniform behind the counter informed her firmly. The woman was dressed very similarly to me. Shirt and jeans. And she looked as intimated about walking into a roomful of uniforms as I had.

“I know but I won’t have a babysitter this afternoon to come back at 1,” she said, the tone of her voice sounding a little nervous, a little frantic and a whole lot stressed, quite aware of the many pairs of uniformed eyes looking at her. “My husband is already over there, and we still don’t have orders and I’ve been here twice already trying to get my ID and I just need to talk to somebody.”

The woman behind the counter shrugged defensively. “I’m already missing some of my lunch hour because I still have to help these guys,” she motioned to the people still sitting in the chairs.

I saw the woman’s shoulders lower and her head go down as she turned to walk out. “That’s fine,” she said quietly. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from eating.”

As I sat there in my little corner by the door, the only military spouse in the room, I felt bad for what I’d just witnessed. I was in that woman’s shoes last year. I knew what it felt like to try and wade through unfamiliar territory like DEERS and TriCare and dealing with the whole military deployment process when you’re also dealing with the emotional stuff of having to say goodbye to your husband. Then I got mad. I wish I’d stood up and defended her. I wished I had thought quick enough and told the woman behind the counter that this spouse could have my spot. I wished I’d been brave enough to say, “Help the woman out.” I wish I’d walked out with her to talk to her and try and give her some encouragement.

But I didn’t. I just stayed in my chair.

As much as we talk about the military being a close-knit community, caring for “our own”, we don’t necessarily see that on the reserve/guard side. Maybe it’s because we don’t really know who the others are. Maybe it’s because we feel like such fish out of water ourselves that we’re not sure exactly HOW to help anyone else.

But we should. The next time you see a sister military wife who needs a question answered, or just some encouragement, don’t sit in the chair and stay quiet. She needs you as much as you may one day need her.