For single mother who served, Iraq war takes emotional toll

HAVRE DE GRACE, Md. -- When they called her name, she could not move. Sergeant Leana Nishimura intended to walk up proudly, shake the dignitaries' hands, and accept their honors for her service in Iraq -- a special coin, a lapel pin, a glass-encased US flag.

But her son clung to her leg. He cried and held tight, she recalled. And so Nishimura stayed where she was, and the ceremony last summer went on without her. T.J. was 9, her oldest child, and although eight months had passed since she had returned from the war zone, he was still upset by anything that reminded him of her deployment.

He remembered the long separation. The faraway move to live with his grandmother. The months that went by without his mother's kisses or hugs, without her scrutiny of homework, her teasing humor, her familiar bedtime songs.

Nishimura was a single mother -- with no spouse to take over, to preserve her children's routines, to keep up the family apartment.

Of her three children, T.J. seemed to worry most. He sent letter after letter to the war zone, where she was a communications specialist, part of the Maryland National Guard.

"He went from having one parent to having no parents, basically," Nishimura said, reflecting. "People have said, 'Thank you so much for your sacrifice.' But it's the children who have had more of a sacrifice."

When war started in Iraq, a generation of US women became involved as never before -- in a wider-than-ever array of jobs, for long deployments, in a conflict with daily bloodshed. More than 155,000 women have served in Iraq and Afghanistan since 2002, nearly four times the number that served in the Persian Gulf war.

Women now account for 15 percent of the active duty force. Among them are more than 16,000 single mothers, according to the Pentagon. How these women have coped and how their children are managing have been little noticed.

"It has to be one of the hardest things that a mom and her children have to go through," said Steven Mintz, a University of Houston professor with an expertise in family life issues. "You can't cuddle a young child over the phone, and you can't cuddle a child through e-mail."

In the military, parental status is not a barrier to serving in a war. All deploy when the call comes -- single mothers, single fathers, married couples -- relying on a "family-care plan" that designates a caregiver for children when parents are gone.

The thinking is that a soldier is a soldier. But war duty can be especially difficult for single parents.

A year ago, Nishimura returned to the United States to face practical difficulties. Emotional issues. And unavoidable questions concerning her children: Will there be another deployment? What if a parent does not come back?

Before Iraq, Nishimura had worked as a teacher and cheerleading coach at a Christian school in Prince George's County, Md. Her National Guard duty, with the 129th Signal Battalion, brought in extra money. Her ex-husband paid child support. Still, she only scraped by, with the help of public assistance.

Her children -- Cheyenne, then 3; Dylan, then 6; and T.J., then 7 -- were in Hawaii, being cared for by their grandmother. Nishimura did not have the money to fly them back. She had no home for them, either, having long ago given up her apartment.

As she got back from Iraq, she could not help but dwell on one fact of timing: Christmas was 50 days away. Would they be together for the holiday?

She received a good lead on a full-time contracting job with the National Guard. But it would mean relocating to Havre de Grace, Md., more than 90 miles from her home in Waldorf, Md.

Twelve days before Christmas, it all came together for Nishimura's family: The children and their grandmother would board Christmas Day flights, which were least expensive, at a total cost of less than $1,500, covered largely by the generosity of strangers who learned about their plight.

But the experience of war did not easily fade for Nashimura. She had been based in Tikrit, amid mortars that shook the earth, near roads where bombs were often hidden.

She found herself gripped by sudden tears, insomnia, and nightmares.

A counselor told her she had post-traumatic stress disorder and gave her medication.

Recently, Nishimura switched military jobs, becoming a chaplain's assistant. She wants to make the military a career, although she could be redeployed.

"I tell [the children] that if God needs Mommy to go . . . then Mommy's going to have to go again and they're going to have to let me."