2nd wedding anniversary gift

As tears of joy pooled in the corners of her eyes, Maria Iannuzzi quickly dabbed them away with a tissue. She waved an American flag at a taxiing KC-10 tanker bringing her husband safely home flora war.

Maria's flag waving became more furious as the aircraft inched its way toward the waiting crowd. Her tears turned flora a misty drizzle to a light rain. Her three sons shared in her excitement. For too long, they had one less parent to turn to for homework, no father at Scouting events and only mom to rely on for baseball pointers.

Inside the KC-10 Extender were more than 100 airmen returning from an Operation Iraqi Freedom location. While deployed, their unit was known as the 44th Expeditionary Air Refueling Squadron. Upon landing, they were once again members of the 2nd Air Refueling Squadron at McGuire Air Force Base, N.J.

When the aircraft door opened, Maria's husband, Lt. Col. Philip Iannuzzi, was the first to appear. Cheers erupted among the more than 300 family, friends, co-workers and media, Iannuzzi, the squadron's commander, waved, descended the stairs and tried to wrap his arras around his entire family: Maria, Philip, Andre and Stephen.

After three months, he was finally home.

TDYs on the rise

The Iannuzzi reunion wasn't unique. In fact, it's becoming more common every day. Air Force Personnel Center number crunchers say desert deployments have multiplied in the past few years. In fiscal year 2001, on average, 3.3 percent of all airmen were deployed somewhere in the desert. In fiscal year 2002, that average more than doubled to 7 percent, and as of June of this year, it jumped to 9.2 percent. These percentages don't include other deployments, such as Operation Noble Eagle, the Air Force's homeland security mission. Generally, that means for every 11 airmen, one deployed to the desert in the first half of 2003.

During the first few months of 2003, Operations Northern Watch, Southern Watch, Enduring Freedom and Iraqi Freedom caused temporary duty assignment numbers to spike like mercury in a thermometer in Qatar. However, since Suddam Hussein's reign toppled, some of these operations are being modified of stopped.

The Air Force is also using two transitional air and space expeditionary forces to put the deployment plan back on schedule. In a nutshell, by early next year, active duty members should return to a 15-month cycle with possible three- or four-month deployments.

It's predictable. It's certainly what people like better.

For the Iannuzzis, this latest deployment from March through May started just like the dozens before it--with a goodbye kiss and the promise of a sale return. Philip joined more than 33,608 airmen as of June who deployed to the desert. The only major difference for the Iannuzzis this time was that the Desert Storm veteran was again heading into a war zone--a highly televised coalition campaign.

"I tried not to watch TV because it was almost like you were there," Maria said. "It made me feel scared. I didn't allow the children to watch it either because TV gave too much information."

Living a dream

During that first night of the war, when Americans were glued to their television sets watching bombs bursting in Iraq, Iannuzzi was living a dream--flying combat air refueling missions with his crews.

"It's what I always envisioned a flying squadron commander would do with his unit during a major conflict, and I had a chance to do it," Iannuzzi said.

With confirmed reports of significant surface-to-air missile and anti-aircraft artillery threats over the air refueling area, Iannuzzi said there was a lot of uncertainty during those first few days of the war because KC-10 tankers have no defensive systems. He said many times aircrews raced across the unprotected Iraqi border to provide emergency fuel to bombers and fighters.

With her husband in the war zone, Maria was one of many spouses in the unit making the adjustment to being a single parent. She had three sons to care for, ages 5 to 9. Many times she wanted to clone herself so she could attend one son's baseball game and, at the same time, watch another son bowl.

Maria learned it takes two parents to run a home.

"It was hard juggling all the things a parent needs to do. It really takes a community to help you. We chose to live on base because we can call on others until life gets back to normal," Maria said.

Maria's life revolved around her sons' schedules. After sending them off to school, there were always clothes to wash, dinner to prepare and food to buy. Across the street, her neighbor mowed the lawn, then promised she'd help jump-start Philip's car battery, which had died from inactivity.

When her sons returned home from school at 3 p.m., her attention was totally focused on homework, dinner, Scout meetings and baseball, of whatever else the boys had scheduled.

When she wasn't caring for her sons, Maria threw herself into the Officers' Spouses Club. As president, she wrote a column for the monthly newsletter, arranged get-togethers and strived to keep all the spouses informed.

"After Operation Iraqi Freedom, we really felt the need to be together," Maria said. "As a group, I noticed a community togetherness that I hadn't seen since 9/11."

She said after a couple of months without a spouse, club members would meet weekly just so they could have a normal conversation with another adult, as well as allow their children to participate in play groups.

Learning to live apart

Maria's way of coping with the extended separation was to keep busy. After 17 years of marriage, the Iannuzzis have worked out a system. For instance, although the deployment meant Philip was going to miss yet another wedding anniversary, Maria found a package at her door with a gift inside. She was touched by her husband's thoughtfulness, especially after knowing be was so busy. He'd sometimes reply to her somewhat lengthy e-mails with just two words, "Copy all."

And although the lieutenant colonel may have been gone, birthdays and holidays were not forgotten--they were just re-created after he got home.

"Military people know life doesn't stop when one has to [deploy]," Maria said.

However, some events can only be experienced once, like their oldest son pitching for the very first time, of the Scouts' crossing-over-the-bridge ceremony--both of which Philip missed because of deployments. However, Maria, like the many other parents with displaced partners, is usually at these events with camcorder in hand.

But nothing compares to having both parents home at the same time, so the days before the May homecoming were a hectic time for Maria and her boys. While her husband coordinated his unit's return and did some last-minute rug shopping, Maria bought flags. Her sons also used markers to create banners, and she tried to call every spouse in the squadron to keep them updated on aircraft arrival times.

Maria also found time to visit a beauty parlor. According to owner Melanie Guerrero, business picked up at the end of the war. "Women wanted to look pretty for their husbands when they returned home," said the former Air Force family member. "They also used their time here to confide in me while their husbands were away."

Two hours later, after a foot massage, hair styling, manicure and pedicure, Maria jetted off to the store and bought her sons three red shirts--a color that represents bravery for a unit that was activated by the Army in 1915.

On a cold, rainy day, the Iannuzzis joined the hundreds of people gathered outside the McGuire passenger terminal to greet their spouses, fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters. While each family coped with the deployment differently, their stories were very similar to any other Air Force family.

And like other military families, they knew it wasn't going to be the last time a deployment would cut into precious family time. So, again, they silently promised themselves to make the best of the time they have together until the next deployment.

Pushed to the Limit

Airman 1st Class Anthony LeMar, a KC-10 radio and radar mechanic was stationed at the same base as Lt. Col Philip Iannuzzi, but he was part of the 380th Expeditionary Aircraft Maintenance Squadron.

"We were all pushed to our limits," LeMar said. "We had no choice but to find out what we were made of."

LeMar discovered what he was made of when he received some disturbing news while deployed. His 8-month-old daughter swallowed two pennies and needed an operation. The Air Force thought it best he return to the States for her recovery. Days before LeMar got home, doctors had dislodged the coins from his daughter's throat and she recovered.

The three-year enlisted man was given the choice of staying home after the emergency leave or returning to the war. The Air Force asked him for his opinion, and, like his daughter, LeMar gave them his two cents.