Iced Walls

You just have to LOVE base housing!  There is this myth that it is the lap of luxury offered ONLY to the military, and it is often used to show just how good the government is to its service members.  Oh boy.  If these lauders of good will had seen the dumps we have had to live in, they would be shame faced and wishing they had kept their ignorant mouths shut.

Our adventures with base housing started in the Great White North.  Honestly, when we initially moved into our home, I had forgiven its obvious age, hard living past, and superficial upgrades.  It was presented to us as the only thing available, and, therefore, our only choice.  Desperately just wanting a home and completely out of my comfort zone, we took it and made the best of it.

My engineer never once told me the obvious signs of trouble that he saw when we first moved in.  I remember seeing the distinct look of concern on his face during our walk through.  He had been a design & manufacturing engineer for four years before signing the dotted line and taking the oath.  He saw things the way they were, and quietly said that he was glad we weren't buying it.

The list of crazy trouble we had in that house was long and was proof of the sad neglect that poor building had suffered.  We continually heard that enlisted housing was horrible, and, therefore, I kept my mouth shut.  Cracks in the basement walls.  Aged plumbing that burst.  A stove that didn't like to work.  Heating system that claimed to be on, but allowed for a frosty breath.  If enlisted housing was worse than that, I really couldn't say a thing.

It was when our kitchen wall consistently froze and had a sheet of ice that I stopped believing that the enlisted lived in worse conditions than we did.  What the heck was that all about?  My home had ice on the inside, and it wasn't in the freezer.  I remember that evening clearly.  Stooped down so that I could see why our facet wasn't working, I discovered ice coating the inside of our wall.

At this point, I had already had the run in with the neighbor concerning her backed up plumbing.  The bathtub had flooded the kitchen.  The heater's dislike for working caused us to wear very, very warm clothes and shoes in the house (I remember even donning a knit cap on occasion).  Our stove and oven often took vacations, typically in the middle of a baking cycle.  Despite resealing windows & doors, we had a beautiful breeze that swept the house as if we left everything wide open...and this did not create a comfortable atmosphere when it was minus 55 degrees outside.

Our frozen walls were an eye opener to me.  Luxury living, eh?  A privilege that I should be eternally thankful to the American Government for providing?  If there were families having to live in worse, was this really a gift that I wanted to accept?  Hmm...I don't know.

When we moved out, we had to white glove clean that house.  Working hard and long, we gave it back in better condition than we got it...only to discover that it was being demolished after we left...iced walls and all.