If You Had a PCS in 2021…

If you read that first line and thought, “Ooh, girl, I know what this means,” then you probably did a PCS in 2021.

If you didn’t PCS this year, you probably still know the hardship this year was for military families around the world.

A tight housing market and shortages within the moving companies threw many of us for a loop.

The excitement of viewing homes on realtor.com quickly turned to dread, and even fear, as fewer and fewer options became available.

Bidding wars started on houses where, in the past, none would have existed.

Renting or buying sight unseen was almost required.

Rental applications were cancelled while filling them out because another prospective renter was approved.

A PCS that would usually be door-to-door lasted almost as long as an OCONUS move (and having done both, I can say this with confidence).

If you PCS’d this summer, pull up a chair, allow me to pour you a metaphorical drink, and let’s air our grievances this year.

Because it was hard. 

I’ve moved six times during peak season, and it was never this bad.

I remember sitting in my home through the summer surge of 2020, feeling so bad for the families who had numerous uncertainties surrounding their moves. Stop orders became a normal part of conversation. We were all in a weird, never-ending limbo, just waiting for the world to right itself.

I often say that military life is like looking both ways before crossing the street, then being run over by a freight train. We never know what to expect, what lies around the corner, what monster is waiting to come crawling out of the closet.

Well, that train flattened us on the railroad tracks in 2021, didn’t it?

I can honestly say this was my most stressful PCS.

Tears were shed.

I swore I was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

I had difficulty eating and sleeping.

And no, none of that is hyperbole. I constantly worried and asked myself “What are we going to do?”

In the past, when the PCS stress would start, I would simply say “I’ll wing it,” but this summer didn’t offer that opportunity.

I spent 3.5 months searching for a home for my family. What started as a 4-bedroom-home-with-a-yard search quickly became 3-bedrooms and at least a tiny patch of grass to wiggle our toes in from time to time. We spent far too much money filling out rental applications, but the homes barely lasted long enough to make a phone call. If you wanted it, you needed to get in fast. Living on the installation wasn’t worth it with its 18-month wait list and housing that would have been on the tight side.

I will never forget what it was like to see the assortment of homes available in early February, then watch only one or two be available in the entire area by the end of April.

Right before we finally found a place to live, we were even willing to sacrifice the school system and the potential safety of the neighborhood, just to have a home.

And while my service member and I could manage to spend a little above our BAH and make concessions here and there, we wondered what so many other families were facing, how much harder it was on one-income families or those just starting out in the military.

So many of us were embracing the suck.

But, in all of the suckiness that was the 2021 PCS season, you probably found the bright side like I did. 

Do you want to know what made it easier?

My milspouse tribe.

The milspouse friends from previous duty stations that I would be fortunate enough to reconnect with at the next one, who would send me all the school information I needed.

The milspouse friends scouting the private rental listings in spouses’ groups and online and texting me the information.

The milspouses I hadn’t spoken to in a few years getting me in touch with realtor friends of theirs at my next location.

The milspouses who made us a meal when we were on week three of camping in an empty house.

The milspouses who sacrificed their time to walk through homes in my place.

The milspouses who shared how to fill out an inconvenience claim when my family finally needed to make some purchases to get by.

The milspouses who listened as I complained about the issues with the moving company and the runaround and lack of communication.

The milspouses who sent me lists of things to do to get my family out of the empty house and exploring the new area.

The milspouses who constantly checked in: “Did you get the house?” “When are you moving in?” “Have you made it there?” “How’s it look?”

This is the most beautiful part of the military community—the people who band together simply because we’re all in this together, if not this year, than maybe next yet; if not during this move shortage, than maybe the next one; if not during this pandemic, then maybe when there isn’t one; if not during this housing boom, then maybe during the next bust.

This PCS was one for the record books and one I’m thrilled to never repeat again, but if the worst should come to pass, I know I have a slew of milspouse friends who have my back.