Washington National Guard brigade heads back to Iraq

He vacationed in Disneyland with his wife and two young boys but was uncomfortable with the crowds.

The traffic on his commute from his Duvall home to Starbucks corporate headquarters in Seattle, where he worked as a management trainer, left him tense for hours. Among his coffee-steeped colleagues, he often felt like he lagged a second behind the discussions.

"It felt like you just couldn't quite climb on the carousel. Like you didn't belong, and the only place you did belong was back in Iraq," he said. "Which is basically insane because we spent the whole time over there thinking about going home."

In October, Waters will return to Iraq as the 81st Brigade — the Washington National Guard's largest unit, with some 2,500 soldiers — embarks on its second tour of duty.

For guardsmen, the uneasy divide between military and civilian life has sharpened as the Pentagon cycles combat units back to war after three-year home stays. Many citizen-soldiers like Waters, who have already gone through rebuilding their family ties and careers, are again putting their lives on hold to head off to war.

This is a markedly different rhythm from World War II or Vietnam, when most soldiers did a single tour of duty. It also reflects the dependence on Guard troops to sustain the United States' lengthy presence in Iraq and Afghanistan. Nearly half the soldiers scheduled to deploy to Iraq in the final months of 2008 will be drawn from the Guard's ranks.

As they juggle family, careers and deployments, soldiers from the Guard and other reserve units may be subject to even more stress than their active-duty counterparts.

In the first three to six months after returning home, 42 percent of these reservists reported mental-health concerns in surveys, according to a Defense Department study. By contrast, 27 percent of returning active-duty soldiers reported problems.

Guard soldiers face lots of pressure in the months leading up to overseas duty.

"You balance so many different things," said Capt. Dan Bugbee, father of a 3-year-old. Bugbee, who was finishing a legal internship, is returning to Iraq as a company commander for more than 130 soldiers, including Waters.

"There is only so much of you that can go around — and you stretch as far as you can on all three fronts, and I think that is the challenge of being a citizen soldier."

Home at last, but ...

The 81st Brigade first arrived in Iraq in March 2004, just two months before U.S. contractors were killed and mutilated in Fallujah, signaling a dark turn in the conflict.

The soldiers were drawn from all over the state and a wide range of backgrounds. Some had served four years in the active-duty Army or Marines, and opted to join the Guard to fulfill an eight-year military service obligation. Others, like Waters, had never served in the regular Army.

Brigade units were spread across Iraq, and many of the missions involved neighborhood patrols. Through the course of the year, the tension spiraled as insurgent attacks accelerated, claiming the lives of a dozen brigade soldiers and wounding others. Roadside bombs, known as improvised explosive devices, were becoming a big risk. By the end of the tour, suicide bombers emerged as a serious threat.

"That was our biggest fear. You didn't let anyone close to your vehicle because they could drive up on you, and you were toast," said Waters, who led his company on neighborhood patrols. "What you had to do to keep them away from you, that's what you did."

For Waters, the year in Iraq was an emotional roller coaster. He was anguished over the comrades from the 81st who were killed in action. There also were uplifting moments, such as helping safeguard the polls so ordinary Iraqis could vote, and protecting health clinics.

When the soldiers returned to Washington, some quickly became bored and restless, and opted to cut short their home stays. Some returned to Iraq to work for private contractors, where they often made far more money than would have been possible back in Washington.

Other members of the 81st headed back overseas on deployments.

Cpl. Jason Bogar, of Seattle, enlisted in the active-duty Army and went on three more deployments before he died in a firefight in Afghanistan in July. His Seattle funeral drew several dozen guardsmen.

Staff Sgt. Shawn Bentley volunteered for two more deployments in Iraq and Afghanistan with other Guard units. In his brief home stays, the 40-year-old bachelor camps out in his sister's attic. If ever forced back to civilian life, "I'd pull what little hair I have out," Bentley said.

A visitor, not a resident

Waters also thought about a quick return to Iraq but was held back by his love for his wife and two young boys. So he hunkered down and tried to fit back in.

It wasn't easy. Once, when someone was tailgating his family car, his thoughts suddenly went to a different place.

"I was going to run him off the road and yank him out of the car. Because in my mind, he was a threat to me and my family, and could easily have a bomb," he recalled.

Waters' wife, Denise, felt that her husband lost a piece of himself in the war. There was little of the easy banter and joking that had once been a hallmark of their relationship. At night, he suffered nightmares intense enough to wake her up.

During the day, he often appeared withdrawn and bored. Denise felt like she was still a single parent.

"Tim is a very wonderful, loving person, and a part of that was gone. He had to remind himself to open a door or to kiss me good night. Just those things that were core to his personality," she said.

"I knew that the first year that he was home was going to be harder than when he was gone, and it was, but more so than I ever expected."

Six months after his return, Tim Waters had the option of quitting the Guard and permanently returning to civilian life. Instead, after talking with Denise, he opted to re-enlist — and that meant he would be scheduled to go back to Iraq in 2008.

"I'm not going to be the person who makes him walk away from something that he is passionate about," Denise Waters said.

During that first year he was back, the couple made another big decision. They decided to leave the Puget Sound area and resettle in East Wenatchee, in a ridge-top home with a stunning view of the Cascades. Denise took up a new career as an elementary-school teacher while Tim worked out of their home as a district manager for Starbucks.

The move freed him from the crushing Seattle-area traffic. His sleep improved as he rebuilt relationships with his wife and two sons, who have taken remarkably opposite views of his military career.

Six-year-old Thatcher, whom his parents call an "old soul," appears closer to his mother, who wants her children to stay out of the military. Thatcher remembers the first deployment, and fears that his father might get injured — or worse — on a second tour. When the boy saw a picture of Tim in training with an IV needle stuck in his arm, he recoiled in horror. He thought his father had somehow lost an arm.

Four-year-old Cooper gravitates toward his father and loves to play soldier. But he wants his father around, not patrolling some distant land. While watching "Free Willy," the movie about a captive orca, Cooper sobbed hysterically as the young whale was separated from his family.

This summer, Tim Waters once again began pulling away from his family, increasingly consumed by preparations for his squad's return to Iraq. In addition to the once-a-month weekends at the Kent Armory, there were hours of evening phone calls to work out details of the deployment. Most of July was spent at the Yakima Army Training Center, drilling his squad on convoy tactics.

In August, the family had a final week together. They camped in the Cascades, and headed to Auburn, where they joined other brigade families for a farewell picnic.

Tim Waters boarded a plane full of soldiers.

Denise Waters and the boys drove back over the mountains to their East Wenatchee home.

"It's like, 'Here we go again,' " Denise Waters said. "Sometimes it feels like he was a visitor while he was home, rather than a part of it."

Hal Bernton: 206-464-2581 or hbernton@seattletimes.com