Le Point Rouge, in Marseilles. Nothing to do with today's story, these are photos I took in '92, when I moved to Marseilles to live with this young accountant. Turns out Jean-Marc wasn't cut out for office work (an outdoors type, he is). Today, a story about our son, Max. Just what is he cut out for? P.S. Max turns 17 on May 17th. The next post will go out on Friday. See you then!
la formation (for-maah-syon)
: training, education
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Example Sentence (audio file will return later…)
La Formation Militaire Initiale du Réserviste (ou FMIR) est une formation permettant à de jeunes Français volontaires d'acquérir les bases du savoir militaire. Initial military training of the reservist is a training program that permits young French volunteers to acquire basic military know-how.
A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE.. by Kristin Espinasse
We Want You!: The French air force woos our 16-year-old
(Part 1)
Week before last I picked up our son from military-training camp. Parked at the local base aérienne, I got out of my car to wait with the other families who were standing around the entrance. I was hoping to strike up a conversation with another mom or dad to learn how their son or daughter came to sign up for the FMIR, or la formation militaire initiale de réserviste. Were some of the parents as reluctant as I had been to allow their child's participation?
…and whose idea had it been to sign up for the reserves—the child's or the parent's? Chez nous it was 16-year-old Max's idea. As required by law, he had signed up for his recensement militaire (story & pictures here), or military registration. At that time he was given the information, I believe, for the FMIR training. He was told he could earn 1500 euros this summer should he be strong enough, physically and emotionally, to complete the 4-week training course. Such a challenge was just too tempting for Max, who showed unprecedented patience in putting together his dossier d'inscription: he scheduled his visite médicale, completed all the bureaucratic paperwork and noted in his calendar the various rendez-vous, including the two-week training camp that would take place during vacances de Pâques.
Still, I had my doubts. And besides, if he wanted to earn cash, surely we could arrange that here at home, where there were vines to care for, a wine cellar to keep clean and orderly, cars to wash, and a lawn that needed mowing. But the truth was, Max wasn't motivated by money, but by a desire to defend his countrymen. Though his impulse was selfless, I thought about his lacking of a larger awareness. He was only 16, what did he know about life and liberty? To be fair, I can't say I know any more than he does, no matter how much more life experience I have had. In fact, the older I get, the less I seem to understand.
The small crowd outside the air force base seemed relaxed, so I casually walked by with a nod and a smile, wondering where to park myself. I heard singing in the distance and decided to followed the melody.
When a barbed-wire fence prevented my wandering any farther, I settled beside the unfriendly divider. On the other side there were several giant avions de chasse. I recognized them from the affiches in Max's room—the air force, or ALA posters that had recently replaced the skateboard posters, which had, the year before, replaced the basketball posters. So many passing themes, would this be just another phase, too? Dare one hope? or was such hope anti-patriotic or, worse, would my hoping that Max lose interest in the military be akin to not showing support or confidence in him for having made a first of many big life decisions? It was time to let him spread his wings… in the air force! Comme c'est ironique!
The singing grew louder and I noticed a bit of movement in the greenery beyond. On closer look, it was a troop dressed in camouflage.
My heart began to flutter as the realization set in: one of those marchers was my son! I watched neat, orderly rows advancing. I tried to understand the French lyrics to the military cadence they were chanting. Was it the equivalent to Sound Off? How little I know about customs or protocol, how little I know about the military in general!
The would-be airmen marched toward the gate, beyond which we parents waited. The marchers' eyes remained glued to the drill sergeant. Not one neck craned, not one mouth cracked a smile. Did our camouflaged kids see us on the other side of the fence?
There was Max! His face was set like stone but it was hard to miss the confidence which emanated from him. His pride reached right through the barbed-wire fence, embracing me.
My eyes began to sting. But there was no reason to be emotional! The tears began to rise. But these were not soldiers returning from war! When the larmes threatened to tumble out, I hurried over to my car for a kleenex and dark glasses.
Why get all choked up? The other parents were holding it together just fine! They were confident and knew the obvious: that these were not, after all, young men returning from a battle!
No, I reasoned, they were not! …But did they realize they were preparing to go into one?
***
(Parts 2 and 3 next week)
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A note to our voluntary proofreaders: the next story in the collection is "Pêche" about a couple of peach thieves. Keep this story, improve it, or scrap it? You decide! Click here to begin proofreading.
French Vocabulary
la base aérienne = air force base
FMIR = la formation militaire initiale de réserviste = initial military training for the reservist
chez nous = for us, in our case (literally "at our house")
recensement militaire = military registration
le dossier d'inscription = registration file
une visite médicale = a medical visit, a physical
les vacances (f) de Pâques = Easter break
un avion de chasse = fighter plane
une affiche = poster
ALA (l'Armée de l'Air [ALA]) = the French Air Force
comme c'est ironique = how ironic!
une larme = tear
Mama Braise (upper left) helps me to demonstrate motherhood and the hard-to-face decisions that our children make for themselves. Pictured are Smokey and his 5 sisters. "Mom, I want to live in America!" "Mom, I want to join the army!" "Mom… mom… mom!!!"
Your heart is in the right place. Whatever you do, my son, I will support you! Love, Mom.
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Beautiful, Kristin, absolutely beautiful .. we should all be so fortunate to enjoy the kind of love you give your family. Great writing .. just superb!
Loved this story. How proud you must be!I know… I know.. you worry but still can be proud.
Hi Kristin, Oh, how I love and understand this post, and especially since it was Mother’s Day here in the US. Motherhood–so bittersweet. We train them to be brave, to love their country, to be self-sacrificing, to be MEN. And when they approach manhood, they want to be free to fly….free to be the men that we have trained them to be. So hard to let them go; so hard when wee have a broader vision than their young minds can encompass. Be well.
Un aperçu poignant sur le cœur d’une mère dont son fils va à la guerre…
I’m sure your eyes filled on seeing Max because that was not the face of your little boy you saw. It was a young man who might be leaving you soon. Which means you did your job well. Bon courage!
On se souvient des détails de son enfance quand on est vieux. People remember the details of their childhood when they are old.
I so identify. Our youngest son Wes went to West Point, the US Military Academy (and spent a semester at St Cyr since he was a French major)…now he faces deploying to Afghanistan in the fall. We knew, HE knew that this was part of the future. I have to RATIONALLY think through back to trusting God each time I start to worry. If I believe that God is sovereign, then whether our sons are in obvious harm’s way or not, God is there seeing that ALL things work for the good of those who love Him and for God’s glory. Still it takes me, a mother, some time to rewind from emotion back to trust.
I do understand how you felt and the mixed feelings of pride and fear.
Maria
Wow Kristin, great writing and I too am running for a tissue! What a mix of emotions we have to give birth to a baby and let go of the man! You have done all the right things. The rest is out of our hands and rests in grace day by day .Thank you for your wisdom and intimaticy in sharing!
Sometimes our children tumble forward faster into life than we are willing to go so that we find ourselves running along behind breathless! They may take us where we don’t want to go, but we take our own basic character with us. In so doing, our silent presence may help them realize that their choice(s) need adjustment or that they are in the wrong place. Nevertheless, our presence is important. Although Max may not have been able to see you, he knew you were there.
As for making money, it is often important to young people to earn money away from their parents. I remember that, although I had been working alongside my mother for several years in the office where she and I were the clerical staff, it felt different when I was able to obtain a clerical job in a department store. Independence is sometimes more difficult to earn than money.
It is so bittersweet, so poignant, to watch our children set off into their own adult lives (yes, Max is 16, but clearly he’s starting to think about his own life down the road). You feel so much–love, pride, loss, pain, hope, fear–pretty much all there is to feel in life, focused on your child, who evokes all the strongest feelings you have. You have given Max much; now watch him use everything he has learned. And we all know you will cheer him on whatever he does!
Kristin, Vous écrivez avec une telle émotion. Je dois admettre que, chaque fois que je lis une petite histoire que je vis par procuration à travers vous ma vie fantastique!
KRISTI DARLING,
I am feeling the tears slowly drop from my eyes – whatever happened to my little MAX THE BAKER OF BREAD…..remember that story years ago in your archives.
I am drawn back to my childhood when my playhouse was a real airforce crate filled with a airplane scrapped at Hill Air Force base after World War II….my Dad had acquired quite a few of these little gems while bartering with the base in the 1940’s. Day after day I would climb into the cockpit and pull knobs, click switches and put on the persona of a combat pilot….
Later on when Dad bought 600 acres in Arizona he flamed my dream by building his own runway, complete with a windsock mounted on the hill nearby.
At 24 I began my private flight instruction at Scottsdale Airpark under the guidance of an old and locally famous pilot who made his name in WWII. I always remember my touch and go’s on Sedona’s famous runway – a runway located on top of a mountain, if you overshot the runway you were back in clear air with no power.
Then there was the time I was just cursing along and all of a sudden all power disappeared….the little $%#! had switched off the power to see what I would do when the free-fall began…..oh those were the days.
I guess it’s time for MAX to let his ‘genes’ roar – I have always liked to think he is the spit-in image of old Grandmere JULES.
Hang on Honey – this is going to be the ride of our lives.
XOXO
MOM
What a lovely post this morning, brimming with parental emotions of seeing our young ones “spread their wings and begin to fly.” Our Sam joined the Air Force last summer and is training as an aircraft loadmaster. Stationed in New Mexico now, this past year he moved from TX to Washington to Little Rock, each phase testing him in ways he could never imagine. The emotions have been quite a ride (for both-him and the “rents”!) and I found I needed to release him over and over again, with the intention of course that he is in God’s hands and decisions and life will evolve without our involvement, although, he carries within the certainty of our love and complete confidence in him as he moves on.
It is so hard to let them go, but I am steadfast in believing that he has within him whatever he will need to succeed and have a good life. Max has evidenced his own resilience and determination by the steps he made to participate in this military training. He is a fine young man and I wish him the very happiest birthday on the 17th. Congrats to you, Max, and best wishes for your future!
And to Maria: Our very best to Wes, we thank him for his service, as we do all military personnel, and wish him Godspeed. Sam’s final training has been delayed until Sept as they are refitting the aircraft he is to train on – adding artillery.
Kristen, quite a moving story. Many thanks for sharing – my office must have been dusty this morning, for my eyes got teary.
While I’m not a father, I did spend 14 years as a Scoutmaster, leading young men in Boy Scouts, and when I saw Manny graduate from Annapolis, Alex return from Marine boot camp in uniform, or Will in uniform at the Air Force Academy, there was a mix of pride at their achievement, concern for them going into harm’s way and gratitude for what they’re doing.
To you and all the parents who’ve sent their children to the service, my thanks. To each of them, my undying gratitude.
Kristin,
Dependent on Max’s academic interests and ability I suggest you investigate France’s prestigious Ecole Militaire at St Cyr as a means of military entry plus university education. This is france’s equivalent of say West Point.
Bonjour Kristin,
I loved this story —- it is so difficult to face that our kids are growing up and moving on.
You’ve been a great mom — Happy Mother’s Day — a day late 🙁
Previously, you provided someone with directions — I am planning to be in France in Oct. I am trying to make my arrangements. Would you repeat those instructions on how to get to the winery?
Stay well!
We have sun on the central Oregon coast!
As I read, a coworker came in and asked me why my eyes were so red. I have two sons and know exactly why you “teared-up”. The cord is not broken, only stretched beyond any comfort-level. I also agree that the look on his face shows you’ve done a marvelous job, mom.
May God bless our sons…and daughters.. as they move along their paths.. And, I’m so glad I had children, especially as I fact my senior years!
Military service is truly a vocation. I can’t imagine how I would feel in your position! I bet those other parents were secretly weeping too, even if not on the outside. Best of luck to Max.
What an amazing ride we are on as parents. My son is living 10,000 miles away from home and I am so thankful for technology like Skype so I can connect with him. Max is raised by two great people and as my good friend says, now he is “cooked” and ready for the world. You have raised a great boy. Not that it makes it any easier.
Another good friend has a special needs child who will never leave home and she always tells me, “be careful of what you wish for” when I complain about missing my boy.
The FMIR certainly has its pr pitch down–what better way to motivate young men to join than to tell them: 1)If you’re man enough, 2)You can make some real money! What 16-year-old could resist such a challenge?
As you say, they don’t know what war is. This is more like a sport. And I’ll hope along with you, that for your son, it never turns into more than that.
I had these same feelings when my son, Ryan, joined the Army in 2005. I remember going to his basic training graduation at Ft. Benning, Ga, to see him pulled out for top awards for being one of the best recruits of the training session. Such pride! He is now a Drill Sargent at Ft. Benning, married and has a little boy. He has come so far! He has developed such character and strength and is a role model for his peers and the young soldiers he trains.
I had tears just when you said you did…
What a beautiful and heart warming story Kristin!
Thank you so much sharing.
Our dear Kristin,
You brought tears to my eyes this morning.
Becoming an adult!Truly a rite of passage.
Max is handling this so well,and there you
are,a loving and proud parent,forever keeping him in your embrace….yet still letting him go.
Here in the US,yesterday was Mom’s Day.
There could not be a more beautifully written tribute!
Love, Natalia XO
This story definately hits home and brought tears to my eyes. I remember the pride I felt when my son graduated from Boot camp (US Coast Guard)and the same pride I feel now, almost 18 years later.
ce que une histoire!
Salut Kristin: What a moving story, the way you described it!
May God bless Max and all the other young men and women who sign up to serve their countries.
Kristin…. Your will always be the ‘wind beneath his wings’….I love reading your mother, Jules’ comments in this column, as her stories give another layer of ‘family love’ to your site! My son graduated from UC Santa Barbara with 2 degrees and said he was sick of school and went right into the Army! We were shocked… he became a Ranger for 5 years, and then Law School, then a lawyer and is now running for Judge! We could have never guessed this path for him… they all untimately find their own way… as will Max. Judi from Tallahassee
Two weeks after my son turned 18 and graduated from high school, he was on a bus to Marine boot camp. (He was discharged halfway through for medical reasons, having contracted pneumonia.) Our sons can be so mature, but they are still so young, and it would be abnormal not to worry. It seems that Max really has his act together. I wish him a happy birthday and all the best in the coming years, and will look forward to more accounts of his activities.
Everyone’s comments are beautiful. Mine is just about grammar! The following should say “…than HE….
…To be fair, I can’t say I know any more than him….” (add the verb ‘does’ to help you decide which pronoun to use)
In a sense, when you were a when you were a struggling “child” ecrivan, this reader sort of adopted you and gave all the support and encouragement he could. As you grew during the “teenage” years of following your dreams you made increasingly more friends and fans while I felt less and less influential in your life. Of late, my “adopted” writer has honed her writing skills with deservedly numerous supporters. This vieux has felt the sadness of seeing his adoptee soar with so many serving as the wind under her wings. Yes, I am proud of you and grateful I have been a bit helpful.
Your story re Max struck home in two ways — experiencing adorable sons, daughters, and “grands” mature and take flight and now there little more I can do for my special French writer friend.
Toujours, toujous ton ami, Fred
Chere Kristi, I did feel the special connection we have shared when reading your touching, beautiful story re Max (looking forward to the continuance). You touched the soul of mine and many others. Affectueusement!
Chère Kristin ~ You tugged on our parental heart strings with this story! When I held my first newborn in my arms and experienced that rush of joy and first love, little did I realize the roller-coaster of emotions that parenthood brings with it. Now I am in the letting- go process of 3 fabulous young adults, and I admit sometimes I don’t always handle it with ease. Sometimes I see them stepping out into the world like they were running into the street in front of a racing car and I want to yell “Stop!” But then I wait and I watch them proceed to the crosswalk and wait for the light to turn green. My days of daily protecting them are over, but I take comfort in the knowledge that we are forever bonded in our hearts!
I loved the symbolism of the pictures at the end of your post, especially the one of you “supporting” the puppy.
‘I could not love thee, dear, so much ,
loved I not honor more’
Congratulations to your son on the successful completion of his training.
……don’t let young men fight the wars that old men start…….
Hi Kristin,
Nice post! My son Collin was just commissioned a Second Lieutenant in the Field Artillery! It was hard to keep my composure while pinning on his rank! I kept having to swallow but my eyes did tear up!
Although I appreciate how choked up I would be if my son opted for military service, I wish I would hear some reluctance or questionaing regarding the interest to participate in an institution that sanctions war. Indeed war is a historical fact that will continue to barrage us with its menace and sadness. Yes, it is an honorable profession, yes we need a defense, but there are many other ways to aid one’s country. In the US we are exhausted by the recent wars. Peace is what we need to focus on.
Your story brought back memories. At 16, a friend and I joined the militia. In Canada, there was (and is currently) no obligation to join or receive any form of military training. We learned self-discipline and enjoyed great fellowship … and how to polish shoes and brass, every day … and got really bad hair cuts! We were also educated, if that’s the right word, in how to survive a nuclear war – a little sick in retrospect but it was 1960. We also learned to drink, a lot for a 16 year old. In all, it was a good and maturing experience. I hope your son gets out of his experience the same benefits. My parents never shared their opinion with me.