THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, January 3, 1996 TAG: 9601020065
SECTION: MILITARY NEWS PAGE: A4 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: My Turn
SOURCE: BY KERRY DEROCHI, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Medium: 70 lines
The board room on the first floor of Portsmouth Naval Medical Center was packed last week as Lt. M. J. Hoban, a Navy nurse, was promoted to lieutenant commander.
The program was brief, the words simple and elegant. Commitment. Dedication. Loyalty.
Hoban's eyes reddened as her parents pinned the shoulder boards signifying her new rank on her uniform. Her friends applauded. Some took photographs.
It was a routine ceremony, one held thousands of times a year in the Navy and one that usually goes unnoticed by those on the outside.
Yet, it struck me that last Thursday's gathering seemed to say more about the Navy than any other event memorialized by the evening news or on the newspaper's pages.
This wasn't about scandal or controversy. It didn't involve the launching of a billion-dollar weapon system or the commissioning of a sparkling new aircraft carrier.
It was a routine promotion of an officer, a recognition of the service of one individual.
So, why was the room so crowded?
Because Hoban was family.
Corny as it sounds, the Navy provides service members with a bond that those in the civilian world can only envy and never hope to match.
Friendships are formed on deployment - close friendships, the kind that can outlast a career of moving from duty station to duty station. They are the only constant in a world that is constantly changing.
In the three years that I have covered the military, I've been continually amazed at the number of men and women who choose to stay in the service despite the negatives attached to being in the military.
Despite the Tailhooks and the bad publicity that follows every move.
Despite congressional politics that have kept pay raises lower than inflation.
Despite budget cuts and drawdowns that have made climbing the ladder an acrobatic feat.
Something must keep these talented men and women in.
I'm convinced it's the family, the bonding.
Those of us on the outside rarely get a glimpse into that side of military life. We see the ships come and go into Hampton Roads. We go to airshows and watch jets scream across the sky.
As reporters, some of us get more of an introduction. We fly with the Blue Angels and ride on the submarines. We travel to exotic places like Croatia and Haiti with military teams.
But it's not enough.
As I come to the end of my stint covering the military, I realize that despite the events I have covered and the people I have met, I am still an outsider to this strange and complex world.
It's because I've never spoken words like defense of my country or a call to duty. I've never raised my right hand and given an oath to serve.
And, though I stood at Arlington Cemetery and watched as a dear friend was remembered with a horse-drawn casket and a bugler playing taps, I remain in awe of those who choose to serve.
Covering the military has not been an easy job, and rarely has it been fun.
But as I stood last Thursday in the room where M.J. Hoban, my friend, was promoted, I realized it has been an honor. MEMO: Kerry DeRochi, a military reporter, is taking a leave of absence from
the newspaper. by CNB