Slop.

Caryl Banks dragged a kitchen chair beneath the overhead light and climbed onto it with a bucket of warm, soapy water balanced on the countertop. She wrung out a sponge, lifted it toward the ceiling, and began working it in slow, deliberate circles. Water slid down her forearm and dripped onto the kitchen floor.

It was close to 1 a.m.

Across the room, her friend Russell stood quietly in the doorway, watching her scrub the same patch of ceiling. “Do you want me to help you scrub,” he asked gently, “or do you just want me to stay here?”

Banks didn’t look down. She squeezed the sponge once more and pressed it against the ceiling.

“I don’t want help,” she remembers saying in a calm but sharp voice. “I just want to scrub my own ceilings.”

The ceiling wasn’t even dirty. All she could think about was her son, Sgt. Dominick Banks, who was somewhere in the Red Sea on a deployment with the 26th Marine Expeditionary Unit. It was October 2023. The war in Gaza was heating up, and U.S. forces were countering Houthi missile and drone strikes at Israel. Days had passed without a message. In the absence of anything she could control, Banks looked for something to do with her hands.

So she started scrubbing.

This is how military families live inside the wait for war.

Sgt. Dominick Banks and his mom, Caryl, pause for a predeployment photo in 2023. For military families like theirs, these snapshots often become the images they return to while waiting for the next phone call home. Courtesy of Caryl Banks

They feel the tremors of global conflict long before the rest of the country notices. But the wait for war rarely looks the way people expect. It doesn’t usually happen with big, dramatic moments, and no clear beginning or end. Instead, it settles into daily life, with a phone kept within close reach throughout the night, or one more glance at the news before bed, and a question from a child that parents suddenly realize they don’t know how to answer.

In recent weeks, another war in the Middle East has once again placed U.S. forces on heightened alert across the globe, leaving many military families like the Banks in Maryland, the Pretes in Germany, the Grants in New Mexico, and the Baginskys in Virginia anxiously watching for signs of what might come next.

Dominick finished his active duty tour and is back home in Bowie, Maryland, but he still has two years left on his Individual Ready Reserve contract, which means he can be recalled for deployment until then. His childhood best friend is now deployed to the Middle East, so Caryl Banks said she is reaching out to offer her mom-to-mom support.

“The grief and the worry, the emotions I have for the families going through it,” she said, “it’s like, it just makes me sick.”

An F/A-18F Super Hornet aircraft, attached to Strike Fighter Squadron 213, lands on the USS Gerald R. Ford on day three of Operation Epic Fury in the eastern Mediterranean.US Navy photo

When the House Goes Quiet

A few weeks ago, Air Force service member Desiree Grant got the call that her husband, Brayton, who is also serving in the Air Force, would be the one to deploy with Operation Epic Fury. The last chance they had to talk, they didn’t spend any time talking about the US-Israeli surprise attack on Tehran or the death of Iran’s supreme leader.

The main topic of their 10-minute call was how she had to rush their 1-year-old son, Bennett, to the emergency room at Cannon Air Force Base in Clovis, New Mexico, when he was feverish and wheezing from RSV, the respiratory syncytial virus. They talked about how he was doing, the little milestones he was hitting, and the funny moments that happened during the day. “Sharing those everyday moments helps keep us connected.”

Only 3.2 percent of Americans live with an active-duty service member in their immediate family. While nearly half of all military members are married, only 7 percent are part of dual-military couples like the Grants, where both spouses serve.

For Desiree, when her husband Brayton deploys, the structure of daily life changes quickly, affecting everything from daycare drop-offs to bath time, feeding the dogs, household chores, yard work, and dinner.

“I take on more of the day-to-day responsibilities at home,” she said.

“Knowing he’s part of such a dedicated and capable team gives me a lot of confidence and peace of mind.”

No matter the level of resilience, there are times when the absence becomes impossible to ignore. Like after Bennett finally falls asleep and the house grows quiet.

“I miss having my spouse there to talk about the day with,” she said. Those silent, lonely hours are also when she reminds herself why he serves and the mission he and his fellow air commandos carry out. “That sense of pride helps balance those moments,” she said.

When the news cycle becomes overwhelming, Desiree tries not to follow every update. But it’s hard to ignore the stories of 13 US service members who have lost their lives in the first weeks of the war. Information changes quickly, she said, and speculation can spiral. Instead, she focuses on staying connected to Brayton, exchanging messages whenever possible, and trusting the training and professionalism of the airmen he serves beside. “Knowing he’s part of such a dedicated and capable team gives me a lot of confidence and peace of mind,” she said.

A US Marine Corps carry team transfers the remains of Marine Lance Cpl. Kevin Melendez of Fort Worth, Texas, at Dover Air Force Base, Delaware. He was one of 13 US service members killed in the first weeks of the war.Photo by Jason Minto, U.S. Air Force

Holding More Than One Worry

Sabrina Baginsky understands more than most people the weight of worry. She has two sons serving in the Navy. Nate is stationed in Jacksonville, Florida, and Michael, an aviation machinist’s mate, third Class, is currently deployed with the USS Gerald R. Ford in the thick of Operation Epic Fury.

Communication had been shut down as the ship became integral to flight operations from the Red Sea for air strikes against Iran. But a fire that burned for 30 hours last week in the ship’s laundry facility, displaced hundreds of sailors and crew members from their sleeping “racks” and is forcing the world’s largest aircraft carrier to sail to Crete for repairs.

The one silver lining? Michael was able to quickly call home, Sabrina said, to tell his mom he is safe and that he loves her.

The aircraft carrier has been at sea for more than 260 days after departing Norfolk, Virginia, in June 2025. Deployments at sea typically last six months. But Navy officials have indicated the USS Ford’s deployment could stretch to roughly 11 months, or about 334 days, as the carrier continues operating in response to the war.

If the ship remains deployed that long, it would surpass the historic 332-day deployment of the USS Midway during the Vietnam War from April 1972 to March 1973. That’s still the record for the longest US aircraft carrier deployment.

The extended timeline means even more months of uncertainty, living in the wait for war, as the ship has traversed the Atlantic, Northern Europe, the Caribbean, and the Mediterranean, and now around the Red Sea.

Back home in Virginia Beach, Sabrina has another worry: Her partner, the boys’ stepfather, is undergoing treatment for cancer.

“My heart and head are very full,” she said.

Aviation Machinist’s Mate 3rd Class Michael Baginsky has been deployed since last summer on the USS Gerald R. Ford.U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Mariano Lopez

Homefront Agility

Destinee Prete is also juggling to prepare for what comes next in her military household. She is an Army veteran and military spouse stationed in Wiesbaden, Germany. For her family, readiness looks like an ordinary office binder resting on a shelf in her home. It’s their “go binder,” and inside it are the important documents that allow life to keep moving if everything suddenly changes: birth certificates, Social Security cards, passports, and copies of military orders. The most important documents are the powers of attorney.

Years ago, during another deployment, Prete tried to make a simple change to the family’s cell phone plan but couldn’t. Her husband, Lt. Col. Ryan Prete, was the name on the account, and without the proper authorization, even a simple administrative task became impossible.

“It was a huge wake-up call,” she said.

Now, the go binder contains what Prete says is among the most important documents they need, a general power of attorney for everyday decisions, and others tailored for specific responsibilities. Living overseas adds another layer of complexity. In Germany, Lt. Col. Prete is the family’s official sponsor for nearly all services tied to the military community. That means planning ahead for bureaucratic hurdles that might appear if he suddenly isn’t there to sign something.

Ryan works in a “manning cell,” a special unit primed to increase operations to 24 hours a day at any moment; ensuring readiness meets the military’s operational needs of getting the right people to the right places during campaigns like Operation Epic Fury.

With years of experience, Destinee is already ready with what she calls “home front agility.” But she knows all too well that logistical preparation is only a part of it. Preparing for the emotional impact of deployment is just as critical. The wait before a deployment carries what Destinee describes as a “constant, low-grade hum of anxiety just under the surface of everything you do.”

Twins Aiden and Landon, 14, and Ethan, 13, line up on the opposite side of the Leichtenstein-Swiss border from their parents, Ryan and Destinee Prete. The family is stationed in Germany, and for many military children, growing up means building a sense of home wherever the military sends them. Courtesy of the Prete family

Parenting Through Uncertainty

At home, the uncertainty often shows up in conversations with her sons, twins Aiden and Landon, 14, and Ethan, 13. Teenagers absorb news more quickly than anyone, especially through social media, where rumors can travel faster than facts, she said. The Prete family has developed a nightly ritual to manage what’s real and what isn’t.

At dinner, the table becomes what she calls their “debriefing zone.” The boys share what they heard that day, maybe something they heard at school, something they saw on TikTok, or something a friend repeated without knowing whether it was true or not.

“You know, you often hear about military spouse resilience,” she said. “But the real heroes are the kids.”

When that happens, Prete says she and her husband walk through it with them. “OK,” she might say, “that sounds like an opinion, not a fact.” Or: “Why do you think that person wants you to feel angry?” The goal isn’t to hide reality, she explained. It’s to keep uncertainty from taking over their children’s world. Helping them understand what’s real and what’s not is their priority. Even in tense moments, Prete says the thing that surprises her most is how quickly military kids adapt.

“You know, you often hear about military spouse resilience,” she said. “But the real heroes are the kids.”

An E-2D Hawkeye aircraft, attached to Airborne Command and Control Squadron 124, lands on the flight deck of the world’s largest aircraft carrier, USS Gerald R. Ford, days into the start of Operation Epic Fury in the Mediterranean Sea.US Navy Photo

The Mouthpiece

The first real shock of military life for Caryl Banks didn’t happen during a deployment. It was the summertime, June 2019, when it hit her like a ton of bricks. Dominick left for Parris Island, South Carolina, the home of Marine Corps boot camp.

Caryl says she didn’t volunteer to become a Marine Corps mom. It was her son’s choice, and for that reason, she pledged her unconditional support to honor his call to serve. Dominick’s communication with home suddenly became rare.

For the first time in his life, calls with his mom had to be brief, and they were unpredictable. In the early stages of specialty training, privileges—like phone calls, civilian clothes, and time off base—had to be earned.

Dominick wrote to his mom to report that if he could knock his opponent’s mouthpiece out during drills, he would earn a phone call home. Caryl didn’t hold back: Do whatever, she told him. She needed a phone call from him more than anything.

She was sitting in a nail salon a couple of weeks later when a strange number popped up on her phone. She almost let it go to voicemail.

It was Dominick.

“As soon as I heard his voice, I just kept repeating, ‘I love you, I love you, I’m proud of you, I love you…a thousand times,’” she said through heavy tears. “It was so hard and so beautiful, right, that moment of like, thank God I’m hearing from him, but oh my God I have to get off because he has to hang up.”

Months later, after his training had ended, Dominick came back home with something he needed his mom to have.

The mouthpiece.

It didn’t matter that she never knew the original owner of that mouthpiece. Banks kept it anyway. It represents the moment she realized how much military life changes the way families stay connected, Banks said, and just how much that connection means to her.

Sgt. Dominick Banks gives his mom, Caryl, an embrace before leaving for the Middle East in July 2023.Courtesy of Caryl Banks

Somewhere Out at Sea

Before Dominick Banks deployed on an eight-and-a-half-month mission with the 26th MEU in July 2023, he was supposed to go on a European tour, but plans changed quickly for his unit when Iran began seizing oil tankers in the Persian Gulf and the surrounding waters, like the Strait of Hormuz, which Iran has now locked down following the latest attacks by the US and Israel.

Dominick was part of a special operations-capable Marine expeditionary unit assigned to the Bataan Amphibious Ready Group, similar to the one ordered to the Middle East from the Pacific late last week. The forward-deployed, rapid-response Marine air-ground task force is designed to respond to missions ranging from humanitarian aid to combat operations within six hours’ notice.

“That deployment changed my life,” his mom said, weeping. “People wanted me to care about work and these trivial things when my kid was fighting for his life and others.”

These are the “boots on the ground” that commanders in chief are asked about in news conferences and that experts on CNN and Fox News debate the necessity of as war drags on.

Back at home, his mom, Caryl, was sick with worry. She knew the USS Carter Hall, the amphibious warship her son was deployed with, was the middle ship in the escort lineup meant to lead other warships through the Strait of Hormuz. “That deployment changed my life,” his mom said, weeping. “People wanted me to care about work and these trivial things when my kid was fighting for his life and others.”

She asked friends and neighbors to leave their porch lights on to help light her son’s way home.

A friend gave Banks two glass jars and a bag of beads before Dominick deployed that fall. One jar started full. The other sat empty. Each day he was gone, she moved a single bead from the full jar to the empty one. Slowly, with each bead, the days remaining dwindled down.

“[I just needed] tangible things, like he’s one day closer,” Banks said.

On a small table in Caryl Banks’ home sit the things she’s kept from her son’s time in uniform: letters he mailed home, dried roses from his graduation, and a mouthpiece he once knocked from an opponent’s mouth in training, earning the privilege for a call home.Courtesy of Caryl Banks

The Things We Hold On To

In Caryl Banks’ home, that mouthpiece Dominick brought her isn’t tucked away in a drawer. It sits in plain view on a small wooden table as part reminder, part proof that the years her son has spent serving were real, and that they both survived. A stack of letters Dominick mailed home rests beneath it, the pages covered in tight handwriting that traveled across oceans like the Arabian Sea and the Gulf of Aden before reaching her mailbox.

Now, even more, as the war in Iran stretches through a third week with no clear end in sight, Banks feels the same familiar tightening in her chest, remembering when her son was deployed in the region, during attacks on Bahrain in September 2023.

While watching the US Navy’s Fifth Fleet Headquarters in Manama, Bahrain, fall under missile attack this month, just as the war began, the levee holding back Caryl’s fears broke, and all at once, they came rushing back.

She is painfully aware that Dominick’s contract extends far beyond his discharge papers. In a time of war, he can be recalled. Caryl says the feeling isn’t just worry. It’s closer to something she recognizes from what she’s experienced in the past.

“Not almost PTSD,” she said quietly. “It is.”

Caryl Banks tries not to dwell on the chance her son, Dominick, could be recalled for deployment.Courtesy of Caryl Banks

When the Phone Finally Rings

On the morning of March 11, Dominick called his mother at 7:45—much earlier than usual. She braced for the news. Was he bound again for the Middle East?

He just wanted to talk about basketball. The night before, Miami Heat center Bam Adebayo had scored 83 points, surpassing Dominick’s all-time favorite player, Kobe Bryant’s famous 81-point performance.

“I’m just like, you’re calling me at 7:45 a.m. for this,” Banks said, laughing.

But she answered the phone on the first ring, and she always will. In military families, even the most ordinary conversation can feel like the comforting reassurance that everything, at least for the moment, is still OK.

Banks knows that living inside the wait for war means carrying uncertainty day after day, while the rest of the world moves on around you. And sometimes, in the middle of the night, it means standing barefoot on a kitchen chair, a sponge in your hand, scrubbing the same spot on the ceiling while someone you love is somewhere across the world, and there is nothing else you can do.

Natalie Oliverio is a Navy Veteran, an entrepreneur, and an award-winning journalist whose reporting focuses on defense policy, military news, veterans affairs, and military family life to uncover human stories behind service. She can be reached at natalie@militarytalentpartners.com.

This War Horse story was edited by Mike Frankel, fact-checked by Jess Rohan, and copy-edited by Mitchell Hansen-Dewar. Hrisanthi Pickett wrote the headlines.