Single Parent Soldier Woman: From communal support in Boudicca’s time to harassment and standing alone in present day America

Single parenting, with or without non-custodial parent/grandparent support and cooperation, is difficult in itself, never mind when the pressures of war are thrown into the mix. Similarly, war on its own, without the responsibility of taking care of a child or children, is also difficult to handle. Combine the two and one can but imagine the compounding stress arising from such a situation.

In “The soldier-parent dilemma” (Newsweek, 1990), Kantrowitz spoke of how parents like Army Sgt. Terrie Cortez, who planned on leaving her baby with her parents while on tour, end up with general discharges when faced with the reality that there is no one to take care of their children in their absence. Other women seeing battle in places like Iraq face not only rape by their male counterparts and suicide, but also death in battle and, if they return to America alive, denied child custody. Granted, men also face these issues while doing military service, but unlike women, they aren’t treated as physically inferior or denied their own voices. Sure, women like Teresa Broadwell and Misty Frazier receive medals for combat bravery, but they receive none of the attention that women presented in the media as the damsel-in-distress stereotypes (i.e. Jessica Lynch) do.

The current western view of women as worthless burdens, especially in times of war (and in, well, any profession, at any time) stems partly from the Roman Empire. One feminist reaction to the deeply engrained societal marginalization of women appears in the retooling of the Boudica woman warrior story. From the Libertines’ lyrics (“The Good Old Days”) that sing of Boudica’s spirit living on through the generations, to Manda Scott’s Dreaming the Bull and women who led armies, the argument that women are not useless cannot be quieted. Cwmfen (pronounced “Koom-ven”) fights in battle with her infant daughter and the babe’s father because she has no other choice.

Boudica herself is able to lead the resistance against Rome because her unplanned daughter, Graine, stays on the isle of Mona under the protection of the priestesses. There is no custody fight over her “best interest”—the community acknowledges and accepts Boudica as Graine’s mother and anticipate her return. 1rst century Celtic children are raised by everyone, not just the lone legal guardian.

The book compares the Celtic community to the spiritless Roman exaltation of the free adult male. Rome’s army is made up entirely of males who love each other physically and mentally. Women aren’t needed beyond breeding or ornamentation in show of wealth. Children do not matter unless they are boys. Boudica’s half brother Bán, a.k.a. Valerius, loves several men including his commanding officer. Outwardly, he only acknowledges women and children when he kills or hangs them during duty. The Roman male-centered community does not work, however, for Valerius is plagued by the ghosts of his family—women included.

The Roman military remains the ideal for many men in the American forces today. Women are systematically denied acknowledgement. The approach does not work even in fictionalized legend. Emperor Claudius’ wife, Agrippina, is not allowed at meetings because she is a lowly woman, but she reigns victorious over her husband in the end by poisoning him and supplanting her own son, Nero, on the Emperor’s seat.

The solution for modern day single parent women in the military, who face more than their fair share of issues, isn’t to poison the men who constantly suppress them, but to band together. The communal life of old, like anything else, has its drawbacks, but the advantages, especially for women and children—and even misogynistic men–far outweigh the negatives.