Finding Normal in the Sirens

This article was sent to us by Sabela M., an 8th grader Marine Brat stationed in Virginia. Do you have a story to share with your fellow military teens? Visit our guest contribution page to find out how you can submit to Bloom!

Sabela and her mom when they went to Romania to get away from the sirens for a bit.

When my parents told me we were being stationed in Israel, I didn’t really know much about it or what was in store for me. I just knew I felt sad, because it meant saying goodbye to my friends… again.

The first time I heard a siren at school, I was in my humanities class working on a paper. When it went off, everyone froze for a second. We looked at each other. I locked eyes with my friend, then I grabbed my phone from my bag since we’re allowed to have them in the bunker.

We headed downstairs, fast-walking because we were told not to run, repeating, “We are so cooked, y’all,” and trying to laugh it off. We went into the math classroom, which doubled as our bunker. The teachers closed the windows, locked the doors, and soon the room filled with multiple classes. Everyone had a designated bunker depending on where they were in the school.

While we waited, I tried to text my mom to tell her I was safe. You might think it would be quiet and scary, but it wasn’t. It was loud. We talked, we joked, we distracted each other. I spent most of the time talking to my friend, debating what my mom was doing and if sirens were going off where she was, too. My friend pulled up an app to track where the sirens were happening. She was indeed “bunkering” down too. 

I didn’t really feel scared. I felt safe. The teachers did a great job of making sure of that. I went through this four times at school and many more times at our apartment.

At home, though, it was different.

As a military kid, I never thought I would experience bombs over our apartment. The ones at home were scarier because you could hear the booms, and that meant they were close. The missiles sounded like fireworks, but much louder. The Iron Dome did a great job keeping us safe. 

On the day of the 200-missile barrage, it was just my mom, me, and our two dogs at home. Mike, my stepdad, had to stay at work to make sure the mission and the Marines were safe.

Even though it was scary, it still felt like a normal day in some ways. I checked on my friends, asking if they had sirens and if everyone was okay. That was usually the first thing I did, unless it was one of the 2 a.m. ones.

Those were the worst.

I’d be half asleep, thinking it was just my alarm, until my mom came into my room yelling, “Siren! bunker!” The adrenaline hits instantly. Your heart feels like it’s jumping out of your chest, and it takes forever to fall back asleep. I think all of us were in bad moods the next day after those nights.

Looking back now, I know it was scary. I know it wasn’t a typical “military kid” experience. But I also made some of my best friends there. I had amazing teachers who made us feel safe (shout out to Ms. Deb!!!).

Coming back to the United States was an adjustment. Even going from small markets to a Giant Foods felt like culture shock. There’s really no way to prepare for something like that. I don’t think my parents ever imagined we’d be sheltering in bunkers, or that they would want that for me.

But being part of a military family means adapting. It’s what we do. We prepare for anything.

I’ve lived all over the country and the world. I’ve lived through COVID, attended 11 different schools, and even experienced a war zone. And, I’m only in 8th grade.

What I’ve learned is that no matter where the military sends you, you will always find your support system. It might be your family, your friends, or even your teachers.

And sometimes, that’s what gets you through.