Swimming in the mortar-riddled shallows of the East China Sea. Jumping off bridges into the barracuda-infested waters of the Florida Straits. Trudging through a fresh snowfall in the pristine silence of a New England forest. Hunting the elusive pheasant in the frigid, windswept plains of Illinois. Trying to stay out of trouble while experiencing great adventures with my brother while Mom was busy caring for the younger children and Dad was off fighting the great fight. Always being the new kid in school. Above all, watching each others’ backs and sticking together as a cohesive family unit—us against the world. This was my life growing up in a military family. Our family was persevering and resourceful, but not unique. I’ve known many military families, and all have made great sacrifices for their country. Soldiers wear the uniform and risk their lives, but the families are compelled to live a gypsy life with all the responsibilities of holding the family unit together. These families receive only a fraction of the recognition they deserve. This is their story as well.