“I’m proud to be a Blue Star Mom!”

Story and photos by Jo Ann Kirby

The new, sleep-deprived mom holding her squirmy, squishy five-month-old baby in the seat next to me on the flight to San Francisco looked at me in horror when I told her I had three grown kids. “How on Earth did you keep THREE alive?” she asked. “Oh, trust me,” I said. “I worry about that more now than I did when they were babies.”

I had spent months, in fact, worrying about one of mine. The middle child, who had left college during the COVID-19 pandemic and joined the U.S. Navy, was still keeping me up at night. He had deployed from Jacksonville, Florida, with the USS Mason as part of the Dwight Eisenhower Carrier Strike Group on what we initially thought would be a routine deployment to train with allies and other partners. Max is an operations specialist petty officer 2nd class on the Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer. The USS Mason pulled out from the pier at Naval Station Mayport in Jacksonville on Friday the 13th, which surely was my first red flag. We would soon learn the USS Mason was headed to the Red Sea, where it would see the most sustained battle combat the Navy had encountered since World War II.

This fight, however, wasn’t our grandparents’ war. This one featured drone warfare and anti-ship ballistic missiles, a mix that had never been used against commercial cargo ships, much less against U.S. Navy destroyers. The mission of Operation Prosperity Guardian would become a U.S.-led military operation of a multinational coalition to respond to Houthi-led attacks on commercial shipping in the Red Sea. The headlines coming out of the conflict were worrisome enough. “U.S. Warship Captures Pirates,” read one from November. December brought this cheery news: “USS Mason Shoots Down Anti-Ship Ballistic Missile from Yemen” and in January: “Flurry of Houthi Missiles, Drones Fired.” News reports covering the conflict would use the word “unprecedented” until the steady drum news about the ongoing attacks seemed like a new normal.
The constant barrage that the USS Mason was under became clearer when 60 Minutes profiled the mission in February and went aboard the destroyer. In the report, we learned how important the fight to keep the Red Sea open is; 15 percent of global trade flows through that waterway. The scariest part was when Commander Justin Smith, of the USS Mason, told 60 Minutes that his crew has just 9 to 15 seconds to react when a missile was headed their way.

While I obsessively checked the news for stories about the USS Mason, I kept my cell phone ringer on at all times in case Max called. And I noticed a pattern. Max would usually phone on the Sunday after there was big story about a battle the USS Mason had fought. I began to call them “proof of life” calls and I treasured them. But it became hard to drum up topics to talk about as the deployment stretched on month after month. I didn’t want to share too much about what he was missing out on at home so I would make a list of funny “only in Stockton” stories. One of my care packages included a book of essays by comedian Tom Segura titled I Like to Play Alone, Please. I’d purchased a copy for myself and that gave us something to laugh about when he called. Our book club for two got us through the month of May. Friends and friends of friends sent care packages, too. Max shared them with his fellow sailors and found a loose floorboard where he stowed extra goodies for times when duty called and he missed meals.

The conflict showed no sign of letting up. In June, I could tell Max desperately wished for a break. My heart broke, though, when Max said, “I just don’t get my hopes up anymore, because any time we get good news, it gets reversed.” The USS Mason’s deployment was extended twice before we finally dared to hope.

With faith, my husband, Pierre, our oldest son, Jack, our daughter, Lily, and I booked tickets for the USS Mason’s homecoming. They were refundable, just in case. Homecoming on July 2 was a sunny, humid day in Jacksonville. On the pier, a band played and TV news crews interviewed moms with babies. The USO had sign-making tables set up. Blue Star Families handed out water bottles. Crusty old Navy veterans passed out American flags. The USS Mason commander issued a statement. “I am extremely proud of this battle-tested and battle-proven crew who achieved unparalleled accomplishments while deployed,” said Cmdr. Justin B. Smith, Mason’s commanding officer. “No matter the threat or challenge, they demonstrated an innate ability to sustain a high level of readiness for eight months by thinking on their feet and quickly reacting. As result of their abilities, they protected Mason’s crew and exceeded all mission tasking throughout deployment.”

The ship appeared like a dot on the horizon and slowly sailed toward the pier. The sailors all stood in their white dress uniforms on the deck with huge grins as the USS Mason docked. I waved frantically at a sailor I was convinced was my son. Turns out, those sailors all looked alike from where we were standing. When we finally got to hug our Max and check out his new Combat Action Ribbons, it was hard to let go.