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"After months in Iraq, what would you do on the first night home from war? Six wives, girlfriends and soldiers gave Glamour&amp;amp;#8217;s Sheila Weller an intimate glimpse into their own first nights for our March 2012 issue. We&amp;amp;#8217;ll be sharing each of their inspiring voices, so have a box of plushy tissues handy. You&amp;amp;#8217;ll need it. When I first met Michael, I was a 19-year-old Army newbie at Fort Hood and he was the staff sergeant teaching my class on military vehicles. You get instructors in the Army who try to come off like &amp;amp;#8220;I&amp;amp;#8217;m the big boss,&amp;amp;#8221; but not him; he was down-to-earth, laughing. As our romance developed, we learned we were both going to Iraq but to different bases: I was headed for Tallil as a communications receptionist. He was leaving for the &amp;amp;#8220;hot&amp;amp;#8221; area of Basra for his fourth deployment as a &amp;amp;#8220;source collector.&amp;amp;#8221; It&amp;amp;#8217;s a dangerous job; he&amp;amp;#8217;d be working outside the safety zone of the U.S. base, gathering information about insurgent activity. IEDs could explode. Anything could happen. Most military romances don&amp;amp;#8217;t withstand that kind of separation, and couples assigned to bases that are very far apart usually agree to suspend their relationship. Michael and I couldn&amp;amp;#8217;t do that. We emailed each other love letters every day. One sweltering day last July, I was sitting on the steps of my housing unit in Tallil, listening to my iPod. Suddenly the ground shook. I felt a gush of air, and BOOM! We&amp;amp;#8217;d been hit. A mortar attack. No one was injured, but after that Michael and I rigged up our webcams and left them on all night so that when we woke up, we could see each other. Then President Obama announced, &amp;amp;#8220;The troops will be home by Christmas.&amp;amp;#8221; We&amp;amp;#8217;d finally be together&amp;amp;#8212;but not right away. Michael left Iraq first. I was in the last convoy out. When I flew into the parade field at Fort Hood, there was my family, and there was my Pookie. (He&amp;amp;#8217;ll kill me for telling you I call him that.) We just held each other. Words weren&amp;amp;#8217;t necessary. The Chinese dinner we all went to was happy, but I know Michael was also thinking about the men who hadn&amp;amp;#8217;t come back. He&amp;amp;#8217;d told me about playing cards with a couple of his guy friends one night&amp;amp;#8212;and learning by the next afternoon that they were dead. Gone. My heart goes out to their families. When we got home, alone, Michael briefly disappeared into the bathroom and then opened the door with a smile on his face. He&amp;amp;#8217;d made for me what every female soldier dreams of while in Iraq, with its dreary stall showers: a beautiful, fragrant bubble bath. As I sank into the bubbles, I remembered the advice of my Army supervisor, Nina, who&amp;amp;#8217;d seen my tears of worry over Michael. &amp;amp;#8220;Deployment usually kills a relationship between soldiers at separate bases,&amp;amp;#8221; she&amp;amp;#8217;d said. &amp;amp;#8220;But once in a while it makes it better.&amp;amp;#8221; Michael and I are that once-in-a-while. Thank God for that. Kendra Sanders, 20, Army Communications Specialist, and Staff Sergeant Michael Brown, 36, live in Killeen, Texas. Photo: Courtesy of Kendra Sanders"^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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