I am so jealous of Spencer. Except I want to go to Iraq, not Afghanistan, sometime in the late fall. Also, the reporting part is kind of optional.

The Army has announced that my husband‘s brigade is deploying to Iraq by the end of the year. I knew this was coming the minute he got back from the last deployment, but I still went through a few stages of grief when it became official.

I went through the denial stage, when I thought Barack Obama would be elected and would cancel the war before it was Scott’s turn again. Then I thought maybe there was a way to keep them from deploying. Now I’ve accepted that they will deploy and I can’t stop myself from fantasizing that maybe I can go with him.

I have no illusions that I belong in a combat zone, or that I would magically rise to the occasion in a firefight. I hate violent entertainment — I can’t watch the Itchy and Scratchy parts of The Simpsons. Having done gymnastics instead of childhood, I am fully aware of the effect of female hormones on muscles (seriously people, it destroys them), so I know I couldn’t carry a heavy thing, like a person, a long distance. Worst, I am terrified of things spontaneously exploding — to the point that I flinch every time I turn on a gas stove.

But I am even more afraid that someday my husband will say "you could never understand." Iraq is already going to take more than two years from us; I can’t stand the idea that it might rob us of our closeness as well.

Not that I’d ever be involved in Army activities, obviously. If I were to somehow get to Baghdad, we probably couldn’t see each other any more than if I were stateside. I just want to be closer. I imagine he’d call me and say, "It is so hot here," and I could be like, "God, I know." And, "Ugh, mortars." "Seriously. Can’t they do mortar-free Tuesdays or something?"

I’d like to do reporting from Iraq but I seriously doubt that’s in the cards. So I’ve looked at other options. KBR has a lot of job openings on its website. I think, I could deliver mail for KBR. That wouldn’t be so political. I pitched to Scott the idea of War Day Camp, where the soldiers fight all day and then at night they get to hang out with their wives, like in the Green Zone or something. I said I could make nachos for the whole platoon. Scott said he probably couldn’t find much support among the officers to implement such a strategy. And I’m like, "What about Nachos Supreme?"

Hi, my name is Elspeth Reeve and I’m another one of Spencer’s guestbloggers. I meant to start last week but some things happened. I live in Germany and I’m a journalist and an Army wife. I don’t own any guns but for some reason I’m still bitter.