Wartime tours tough on young veterans' families

When Keelyn Henning told her parents she was joining the Marines, they were concerned, but not really surprised.

A dozen years before, Steve and Pat Henning's two older children, Kelli and Sean had both enlisted in the Army, during Desert Storm, so they knew what to expect -- the constant worry mixed with pride, the sleepless nights, watching the nightly news and praying that somewhere out there, their child was safe, well-fed and happy.

The couple learned in October 2001, just a month after the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, that their youngest daughter was headed into the military, maybe into combat, in another war zone in dangerous part of the world.

Steve, an Elgin postal worker, and Pat, who still commuted to her job at a social service agency, were looking forward to their move from East Dundee to Huntley's Sun City development. They were not yet ready to retire, but neither were they ready to deal again with that kind of stress again.

"We thought that, surely, there is someone else out there who is going through this same thing," Pat Henning said.

"Maybe there's a way we could all come together, to help each other get through this."

Early in 2002, the Hennings put out a call to other parents of active-duty soldiers, to form their own support group.

Over the next four years, the Families of Military Veterans organization grew to include 15 to 25 families, who met monthly for mutual support and friendship at the American Legion post in Lake in the Hills.

"People would come and go," Pat said. "One of our members from Crystal Lake had her son killed in Iraq.

"Others came home when their tours were done, so their families stopped attending."

But the need for understanding and support does not end when those soldiers return home.

Many young veterans have a hard time readjusting to civilian life, or communicating with family members.

Some suffer from mental stress, alienation or horrible nightmares. Others have trouble maintaining personal relationships or holding a job.

It's hard on their families, too.

"Some of us still get together, even though our kids are back," Pat Henning said.

"We'll meet somewhere to talk and catch up over lunch or dinner. It's nothing formal, just getting together with friends who know what you have been through."

Many of their stories are similar.

Tom and Chris Mohney's son, Mike, was a sophomore at Huntley High School when he first brought home Army recruitment papers for his parents to sign.

"He was so young, at a very impressionable age," his mother said. "I told him to wait, but I knew he wouldn't change his mind. So when he was a senior, I went with him and signed the papers.

"As soon as he turned 18, away he went."

After basic training, Mike Mohney went into military intelligence and in October 2001, was sent with the 10th Mountain Division into Afghanistan, where he served two tours of duty.

On Memorial Day 2003, he was injured in a rocket attack, but soon returned to duty.

"He had shrapnel wounds in his leg," Tom Mohney said. "He ended up having back surgery two years ago because his back never got any better."

Mike was awarded a Purple Heart and he's now a civilian security officer for a military facility in Pennsylvania, where he lives with his wife and 4-year-old daughter.

"He won't talk about it," says his mom, Chris. "I know he was more concerned about some of his buddies, who were injured worse than he was. Our son was fortunate."

She added, "It's hard not to worry when your son is in a hostile country, living in primitive conditions with no running water. I was stuck on pins and needles, sending gift boxes, waiting to hear how he was doing."

His parents said Mike found it easier to talk with his grandfathers, both World War II veterans.

"My dad, surprisingly, had talked to Michael about some of his experiences," Tom said. "He was in the Navy, and his ship was hit twice by kamikaze planes."

Both parents have noticed a change in their son.

"He grew up a lot, which I guess would be understandable," Tom Mohney says. "As a parent, you don't want to see him have to go through what he did.

"But he works hard now, he seems to enjoy what he's doing, and he's got a better grasp on reality than a lot of kids his age."

Kelli Henning -- at age 19 -- was the first of her siblings to enlist.

"I joined (the Army) for the college money," she said. "Then Kuwait started to heat up."

Stationed in Saudi Arabia, Kelli worked as a communications specialist on the Patriot missile.

"I was not on the front line, but it was not easy being an American woman there," she said. "I couldn't drive vehicles, and I couldn't go anywhere without my uniform on, my sleeves down, and my hat on at all times."

Kelli served four years of active duty in the mid-1990s, then returned to earn a degree in law enforcement at Western Illinois University, where she still works as a police officer.

One benefit of her service, she says, is the lasting friendships -- especially one.

"That's where I met my husband, Pete (Albanese)," says Kelli Albanese, now 35 and a mom herself.

"When I was getting out, he still had a year left on his tour but we maintained that (relationship) long-distance, and we're still together today."

Coming home, "it was a little rough at first, trying to define the lines again," she says. " I was an adult now, I'd had these experiences, and I was a little tougher when I came back.

"In the military, I had to try so hard to prove myself. When I came home, I had to figure out how to fit back in."

Sean Henning joined the Army a year after his sister did.

Sent to Korea as an engineer, Sean married while in the service, but faced problems when he returned home.

"He went through a rough time, got divorced, and went from job to job," said his mother, Pat Henning.

"It took awhile, but he's doing better now."

Now remarried, Sean, 37, lives in Huntley with his second wife and three children, and has a job he enjoys at an East Dundee gun shop.

Keelyn Henning, now 26, found her own answers in the Marines.

"What really changed me was having been there and seen the things I've seen -- I felt like I grew up over there," she says.

After a year at Elgin Community College and a job at the casino in Elgin, a friend had convinced her to join the Marines shortly after Sept. 11, 2001.

"I had to 'one-up' my brother and sister," she said, grinning. "That's how I am. If I'm going to do something, give me the hardest you have, and that's what I'll do.

"Yes, I was far away and I missed a lot of holidays, but I made friends that became my family."

Stationed in Fallujah, Keelyn ran radio communications for convoys through Baghdad, Ramadi, and other Iraqi hot spots. After two tours in four years, she came home on inactive reserve.

"Any time from today until Oct. 29, 2009, they can recall me and send me where they need me," she says. "I'm actually kind of scared about it."

There have been adjustment problems, but Keelyn is back in school now, studying computer technology.

"I saw a lot. I saw friends die," she says. "When I was in the war zone, I just shut up and dealt with it. But when I got back, it hit me.

"Since then, I have been on medication, and I'm seeing a psychiatrist for the post-traumatic stress syndrome."

She found help in a support group at the Veterans Administration.

"When I got back, I just locked myself in my room for a month, and every night I would wake up crying and screaming, with cold sweats from the nightmares.

"I didn't know there were other people who have been through the same stuff, who have seen worse. When I started talking about it, that's when everything settled."

Her sister, Kelli, was the first to recognize her problem, Keelyn says.

"She has been my best friend my whole life, and now she and I are even closer," Keelyn said. "I'll probably be dealing with this for the rest of my life.

"But I don't ever regret being in the Marine Corps and doing and seeing the things that I have seen. I got to travel the world! It might not have been the nicest parts of the world, but …"

Her advice for families of today's veterans?

"Just show your support and take it slow. Some people can come back and jump right in, talk about everything. But other people can't."

She didn't say much to her mom for about a year, "and then one night it just all came out.

"She gave me that space, and she let me do it in my own time."