The Major's Wife. Anthony Whyte
yes, those referrals are for pre-training, and during their training, if they have any type of mishap, they’ll be referred.”
“I get all that, but why?”
“I think it has a lot to do with the stress of that particular skill. Aviators have to be responsible for millions of dollars worth of equipment. The army wants to make sure that psychologically they can handle that responsibility. The army only wants the crème de la crème.”
Diana looked up from the patients’ files she was holding and glanced at Dr. Janopolis for a beat. Then she said, “That explains it.”
“The only thing wrong with doing that is we wind up with some of the biggest egomaniacs wearing that aviator’s patch. Some of them can be real psychos—and I mean that in the best way possible. Because to fly those missions they do, you’ve got to be a psycho.”
They both shared the laughter. Then it was back to the business at hand. Since Dr. King interned under the guidance of Dr. Ruth Janopolis, she was also involved with the aviators’ schedule evaluation. Diana was taken aback by their brashness and bravado. They reminded her of her younger brother, Brad, who was now serving in the Gulf War. On a scheduled evaluation, her eyes caught the attention of two Army Lieutenants, Andrew Gatlin and Vaughn King II.
Both young men came on strong, but so did a lot of the military guys. They would drop compliments, and Diana didn’t mind all the attention. She would nip their come-ons in the bud with typical Southern charm. Thanking them gracefully, but never breaking the rule of dating any of the patients. When Lieutenants Gatlin and King tried their luck, it was a no-go. Rejecting their proposal, Diana made the clinic’s policy known to both lieutenants when they first approached.
“My buddy here and I were wondering what’s a pretty woman like you doing here? I say you in between posing jobs. My buddy here thinks you’re some famous actress rehearsing a role,” Lt. King said.
“Well, both you and your buddy are wrong. I am currently doing my doctorate and will be a psychotherapist. Now gentlemen, please have a seat. Before you do, please both take these forms and fill them out correctly. Thank you,” Diana said, declining any further suggestion.
“I could fly you to the moon,” Gatlin offered, walking away. “Are you gonna turn down the moon? I don’t know of anyone who’s turned down the moon…”
When they were alone in an examination room, Gatlin pleaded with Diana. He was ruggedly handsome, and her curiosity was tweaked even further when Gatlin confessed all about a bet he made with King. It seemed as if King was always winning, and going out with him would earn him the only victory over King. Always helpful, Diana fell for the ruse. Despite being forbidden, she went to dinner with Gatlin. Later, Diana would find out that King was in on the trick all the time. However, she maintained a healthy friendship with both men. When Dr. Janopolis realized that Diana broke a rule, Dr. Janopolis let her off with only a stern warning.
“You must adhere to the principle of never dating your clients, Diana. It could come back to bite your professional butt,” Dr. Janopolis said.
“He’s an Army Aviator. They still considered—”
“I already explained their unique situation. Even though we don’t consider aviators our patients, technically they’re our clients even if they’re just here for pre-training eval. And may I suggest that you leave those aviators alone. Because they wear that damn aviation patch, they think they rule the earth.”
“I’ll do as you say, but I understand them a lot better now,” Diana said.
“Really? How so?” Dr. Janopolis asked.
“I found out that in combat, they have evaded enemy fire while flying as close to the tree lines as possible without crashing the army’s five million dollar chopper. And that’s a lot of responsibility.”
“I suppose…that’s why the students get tested so often. You have to pass your tests in flying colors. You have no time for those jocks,” Dr. Janopolis said.
Diana kept her head in her studies. By the end of 2002, under the mentoring and tutorship of Dr. Janopolis, Diana became well groomed. The student was on her way to fulfilling her dream of becoming a psychotherapist. Mutual love and admiration existed between mentor and student. The following year her certification was granted. Because of the association she had with Dr. Janopolis, Dr. King was allowed to open her practice around the Fort Rucker army base area.
During this time, Diana received the news of her brother’s missing in action status. Even though she was having extraordinary success with her clinical practice, she went through her private hell. When Diana learned the Department of the Army upgraded this status o killed in action, she was living a nightmare. On the one hand, her clientele would reveal all the horrors of performing combat duties, and all this did was a daily reminder Diana of her brother’s demise. The counseling and friendship given by Dr. Janopolis were the only way Diana was able to deal with the death of her brother adequately.
Diana developed a much stronger empathy for her clients dealing with lives lost after the USA’s sovereignty was tested for the second time since Pearl Harbor. Diana King was able to complete her internship at Fort Campbell. With the assistance and efforts of Dr. Janopolis, Dr. Diana King established her therapeutic practice.
Dr. King used Dr. Janopolis’ therapeutic practice as a model to establish referrals as soldiers changed stations. Over the years, the enlightened student and mentor stayed in touch. Later, when King was wedded to Diana, Janopolis served as a marriage counselor for the couple. She was a perfect friend and maintained great trust between herself and Diana. Dr. Janopolis even served as counselor to the newlyweds when Vaughn King completed his initial nine months of training and went directly into combat. Janopolis’ ability to provide comfort was the reason Diana made the call.
“Hi Ruth, thanks for calling… I’m holding up as best as possible. Yes, Ruth,” Diana said then listened for a while before speaking. “You know how much I love my husband. Yes, I’ll have to go down to the stationhouse and speak with the detectives. Oh, you bet, I’ll be aright. No, I’m not taking an attorney. I have a friend there… Sure, I’ll do that if I run into any problems, and I’ll call as soon as possible. I’ll speak to you when you arrive. Thanks again, Ruth…”
Diana ended the call and thought about her mentor. She got dressed and was still deep in thoughts while driving to the Enterprise Police Stationhouse. Dr. Janopolis and Diana worked with dependents and family members who could not cope with losing the primary breadwinner in most households. By providing psychiatric intervention, Dr. Janopolis helped control a mass upheaval in the military family all across the United States.
By 2003, she had recognition for her work in helping troops returning from Desert Storm to Fort Rucker, where posttraumatic stress disorder roamed rampant amongst soldiers. Dr. King was happy to lend her therapeutic skills to address veterans’ psychological issues dealing with helplessness, anxiety, and inability to cope with readjustment problems to regular life.
She was proud of her accomplishments, but now Dr. King did everything to brace herself for the grilling she expected the police would provide. Checking her makeup, Diana got out of the car. Her shapely legs appeared unsteady, and she tried to adjust her mind. Was Diana a suspect in her husband’s murder? She thought about what Dr. Janopolis regarding retaining an attorney, but Diana figured she would take her chances without one.
“Good morning, Dr. King,” a uniformed officer politely smiled, greeting her. Holding the door open to the stationhouse’s entrance, he said, “Come with me, please.”
Dr. Diana King was an avid tennis player and took excellent care of her body. Even though she was wearing a simple Valentino dark-colored business skirt suit, her well-shaped legs commanded everyone’s attention. Eyes followed her every curve as a uniformed officer led her through a hallway full of mostly male police officers.
She saw the look of hunger in their eyes while silent fantasies registered on their lips. Some smiled and nodded, but Diana was distracted. The thirty-three-year-old psychotherapist was usually providing