By Jacey Eckhart

I met Laura last fall at a workshop at 29 Palms, CA. If you have never been to 29 Palms yourself, I want you to picture the blaze of desert sunsets.  The exotic twist of a Joshua tree.  Raking your lawn for snakes. 

“I remember you said something along the lines of how you like (less than fabulous) bases like 29 Palms because they are a proving ground for the family,” Laura said on Facebook.   “I was just curious to hear more about what you meant by that.”

Man, I gotta learn to watch what I say in public.  Because I do think being stationed at the Base of the Ugly Suckfest (Stop feeling smug Minot, ND, Sasebo, Japan, Ft. Polk, LA.  I mean you, too.) is one of the most significant things that happens during a military career.

Laura already understood a big part of that significance.  She counted herself lucky to be with her husband and baby and to live within walking distance of ten different playgrounds. 

Yet the truth is that when a military spouse is making the effort to be positive, he or she still has to face the reality of the Suckfest.  She still has to face stupid stuff like no child care at the gym.  Or ugly stuff --like the stinky lake in the middle of the base.  Or staggeringly exhausting stuff-- like the prospect of a three hour drive with an eight month old baby just to do something easy like go to a bookstore.  

“It would be easy to go on about (these things) all day, but then I'd be miserable!,” wrote Laura.  And misery isn’t what Laura and so many spouses like her are aiming for.  Instead they want to know about the good effects that living someplace crummy might have on the family.

That kind of question makes most of us skip right to our pithy quote collection.  Nietzsche:  “That which does not kill us makes us stronger.”  My parish priest: “Don't ask for a light load, but rather ask for a strong back.” I confess I was even tempted to embroider Leighton:  “Adversity is the diamond dust that heaven polishes its jewels with.”

Ack.  I stopped myself just in time.  Laura doesn’t need to add nausea to her list of ills.  What she needs is proof.  She needs research that says something like “the successful negotiation of a Suckfest-classified base yields military families that are ten times smarter, sexier, wealthier, and thinner than their counterparts stationed at Kaneohe Bay, San Diego or Garmisch, Germany.”

But I couldn’t find any study like that.  Instead, I can only tell you that my theory is that living at the Suckfest base yields at least three benefits:

1.      Outside Attacker

Psychologist Mary Pipher points out that in modern society the things that pull families apart come from inside the family—depression, apathy, selfishness, emotional distance. In military families, we are pulled apart by forces outside our families—war,  natural disaster, Suckfest bases.  Going through these things together, figuring out how handle them with a little patience and grace, can pull family members together to fight against that outside force.

2.      Increased Suckfest Skillset

In a difficult environment, couples are pushed to get better at negotiating the stupid, ugly stuff that is part of adult life at Base Suckfest.  Over time, military couples get better at this because they are pushed by necessity.  Which is nice.  But for military folks, the thing I see that is so encouraging is that ability to self-regulate doesn’t go away when you move from the bad base.  Instead, every ounce of your ability to get through the Suckfest stays with you.  It’s a muscle that grows and bulges until you look like Jillian Michaels on the hunt.

3.  Compounded Memories

One of the things I notice about couples who were once stationed at a Suckfest base is that over time, their memories alter and pay back like money socked in a bank.   Instead of remembering how miserable it all was, military families develop these incredible memories of the fresh shrimp off the boat in Lousiana..  Of how the mountains tumbled to the sea near Sasebo.  Of the spice market in Israel where merchants sold frankincense and myrrh even if you weren’t one of the magi. 

I wish I could promise Laura and every other military spouse that she would live at the crummy base and win ultimate loyalty to herself from her service member and her kids and her in-laws and her culture.  I can’t promise that.  But I can promise that you join the ranks of those of us who have done it--those of us who still benefit from the skills we learned at the Suckfest—and we appreciate all you mean when you say “29 Palms.”