“There are no ceremonies to mark the end of our career as military brats either. We simply walk out into our destinies, into the dead center of our lives, and try to make the most of it. After my own career as a military child ended in 1967, I received not a single medal of good conduct, no silver chevrons or leaves, no letter of commendation or retirement parade. I simply walked out of one life and into another. My father cut up my ID card in front of me and told me he would kill me if he ever caught me trying to buy liquor on base. I had the rest of my life to think about coming of age as a military child.“
My father took my ID card also – when he dropped me off at the steps of the Frankfort Airport, in July 1964. It left me ’empty…’