Landing Boots in Texas: My Journey from Germany to the Lone Star State
Military Life & Moving
Landing Boots in Texas: My Journey from Germany to the Lone Star State
When we got the news that we were moving from Germany to Texas, my emotions went into overdrive. It was one of those “this is military life” moments—a mix of excitement, anxiety, and sadness all tangled together. Germany had been our home for years, and while I knew this lifestyle meant frequent moves, I didn’t expect to feel so torn about leaving.
Still, like every PCS (Permanent Change of Station), this move would be another chapter in our adventure—and what an adventure it’s been.
Part One
Why We Moved: Starting Our First AGR Journey in Texas
This was our very first time navigating the AGR (Active Guard Reserve) process—and honestly, we weren’t sure what to expect. My husband had applied once before but wasn’t selected, so we knew the process could be competitive and unpredictable.
This time around, we were hopeful but realistic. When we were asked to list our top three location preferences, we picked Texas, Arizona, and California—crossing our fingers for sunshine and fewer chances of snow.
Since his previous application had taken months to hear back, we figured it would be smart to apply earlier rather than later. But to our surprise, within just a few weeks, he got the email: there was a job opening in El Paso, Texas.
After a few long conversations (and maybe a little disbelief at how fast it all happened), we decided to go for it. And just like that, we were packing up our life in Germany and beginning a brand new AGR journey in the Lone Star State.
Part Two
The Emotional Rollercoaster of Leaving Germany
Leaving Germany wasn’t just about packing bags—it felt like leaving behind a version of ourselves. This was our first duty station together, the place where we built our routine, our rhythm, and our life. It was where we learned how to live not just side by side, but as a team navigating military life together.
We took full advantage of our time in Europe—traveling almost monthly to places like Malta, the Seychelles, France, and beyond. Thanks to Ryanair and cheap flights, it was easy to book a spontaneous getaway for the weekend. We were always chasing a new experience, and some of our best memories were made on those last-minute adventures.
As our time there came to an end, we squeezed in final visits to our favorite spots and soaked up every little detail we could. But underneath the excitement of what was ahead, there was a deep ache—the kind that comes with knowing we wouldn’t just pop over to Austria for the weekend anymore.
That’s the quiet heartbreak of military life: loving every place you live, knowing full well that none of them are forever.
Part Three
The Moving Process: Military Logistics and Chaos
Anyone who’s been through a military move knows how chaotic it can be—and ours was no exception.
Our household goods were packed and shipped out (a process that somehow always feels both efficient and chaotic), and our car situation was its own puzzle: one vehicle shipped through the military, one shipped out of pocket, and one sold before we left. None of it was simple—and as I write this, none of our cars or our household goods have arrived yet.
We’ve been living out of suitcases for weeks, juggling rental cars and temporary lodging while tying up all the loose ends back in Germany. There was paperwork to complete, our rental to close out, and out-processing to navigate. And just when we thought the hardest part was over, the real adventure began: the flight.
Moving Day Essentials
A few practical helpers to make the packing and shipping chaos a little easier to manage.
Part Four
The Disaster That Was Travel Day
Departure day arrived. We were flying out of Frankfurt with five checked bags and our backpacks—exhausted but ready to start this new chapter.
At first, everything seemed on track. We boarded a bit late, but no big deal—we had a decent layover in Dallas before our connecting flight to El Paso. But after boarding, we just sat there. And sat. And sat.
Eventually, the pilot got on the PA to tell us the plane had been scratched by the meal delivery truck (you really can’t make this stuff up), and they needed to inspect the aircraft for safety. About an hour later, we were all asked to deplane and head back to the gate.
There we were, back in the terminal, surrounded by murmurs that if our flight got canceled, the next one out wouldn’t be for three more days. Thankfully, we were cleared to reboard, and the flight finally took off. Crisis (mostly) averted.
When we landed at DFW, our relief was short-lived—we had, of course, missed our connecting flight. American Airlines had automatically rebooked us… for the same flight the next day. No mention of a hotel voucher or help. Just a new boarding pass and good luck.
Thankfully, we caught the issue as we were landing. A quick call to customer service got us rebooked on a 7:00 p.m. flight that same night—plenty of time, since we landed around 4:00 p.m. Customs was a breeze, and we felt like we were finally getting back on track.
But then, our new flight got delayed. First to 10:00 p.m., then to 11:00 p.m.
By the time we finally landed in El Paso, it was just after midnight. We grabbed an Uber to our hotel—exhausted, sore, and very ready for a shower and bed. But we made it. All in one day, despite the setbacks, delays, and the stress of international travel layered on top of a major military move.
It wasn’t pretty, and it definitely wasn’t smooth—but we got here. And that’s what counts.
Part Five
First Impressions of Texas
Texas hits you the moment you land—literally. The heat wrapped around me like a too-tight hug the second we stepped outside the airport. Coming from Germany’s mild summers, it felt like we had walked straight into an oven… but honestly? I love the heat. It was a welcome change, and it instantly reminded me of home—Reno, Nevada. The dry desert landscape, the big skies, the sun that doesn’t quit—it all felt strangely familiar.
And then came the space. Everything in Texas is just… bigger. The roads are wide enough to land a small plane, the homes are massive, parking lots stretch for what feels like miles, and even the grocery carts are supersized. After years in Europe, where space is limited and compact living is the norm, it was almost comical. But also? Kind of amazing.
One of the first things I noticed—the people. Texans are so friendly. Strangers strike up conversations in line at the store, smile as they pass you in parking lots, and actually say “sorry” if they bump into you. After getting used to the infamous “German stare,” this was a refreshing change. There’s a warmth here that makes you feel like you belong, even when you’re brand new.
And then there’s the food. Oh, the food. The BBQ, the Tex-Mex—it’s a whole vibe. Tacos are basically a food group in Texas, and I am not mad about it. The flavors are bold, the portions are generous, and the options are endless. It was a delicious welcome to our new home.
Part Six
Biggest Cultural Surprises
There were plenty of surprises waiting for me in Texas—and not all of them were subtle.
First off, Texans are incredibly proud to be Texan. I’m talking bumper stickers, t-shirts, front yard flags, business logos, you name it. The Texas state flag is everywhere. It’s almost like its own country… and honestly, the pride is kind of contagious.
Then there’s the size of everything. Let’s not even talk about the pickup trucks—I’ve seen trucks here that are basically the size of small European apartments. And the portion sizes? Outrageous. One meal could easily feed two or three people. I ordered a soda with a meal—just a Coke Zero, the same thing I drank all the time in Germany—and not only did it taste totally different (so much sweeter!), but the cup was massive. I’m pretty sure it was close to half a liter.
That sweetness thing? It doesn’t stop with soda. Even the coffee is sweeter. I don’t know if it was always like this or if my time in Europe changed my taste buds, but now most American coffee drinks taste like dessert. It’s wild.
Another big difference? Plant-based food options. In Europe—especially in places like Germany or the Netherlands—it felt like every restaurant had at least one plant-based or vegetarian option, and fast food chains were practically half plant-based. Here? Not so much. The menus are heavier, meatier, and less accommodating unless you’re somewhere super health-conscious or trendy.
There are also a few driving quirks I’m still getting used to—like turning right on red. In Europe, that’s a big no-no, so every time we pull up to a red light, I have to remind myself that yes, it’s actually allowed here (and no, we're not breaking the law!).
More Moving Must-Haves
For the next PCS, cross-country move, or big life transition you want to feel a little more organized for.
Part Seven
Grocery Shopping & Everyday Differences
One of the biggest differences I noticed right away? Everything is open on Sundays.
In Germany, Sundays were quiet—no shopping, no errands, just rest. It was peaceful, yes, but also inconvenient when you needed something last-minute. I’ve gotten so used to that rhythm that even now, my husband has to gently remind me, “You know we can do things on Sunday, right?” I still find myself trying to cram everything into Saturday out of habit.
We didn’t go out shopping too much anyway, since most of the stores were downtown, parking was always a nightmare, and the shops were small and tightly packed. We usually stuck to the commissary on base, so in some ways, grocery shopping itself didn’t change a ton when we moved back to the States.
But what did feel different? The produce. In Germany, fruits and vegetables were super fresh—but they also went bad so fast, like blink-and-it’s-mushy fast. Here in Texas, everything lasts longer… which makes me wonder what’s in it, but I’m not asking too many questions. It’s convenient, and I’ll take the win for now.
Speaking of convenience—I missed it. I’m not even going to lie: I am thriving being back in a place with DoorDash that offers more than just pizza. Need toothpaste at 10 p.m.? No problem. Want coffee and tacos delivered while still in pajamas? Absolutely. Stores are open early, late, and always, and after years of planning everything around limited hours and closed Sundays, it feels like freedom.
Part Eight
Settling Into Our New Home & Community
One thing that made this move a lot easier? We bought a house.
We were able to make a quick visit to Texas back in May, and during that trip, we found a place we loved and put in an offer. It all came together pretty quickly, and we ended up closing just a few weeks before we officially arrived. That meant no temporary lodging, no scrambling for rentals—we had a place to call our own from day one.
Sure, the house was completely empty when we got there—no furniture, no decor, and none of our usual routines—but it was ours, and that made all the difference. Thankfully, we bought a bed our very first day in town, and by some miracle, it was delivered that same evening. We also grabbed a few kitchen essentials so we could cook at home, but held off on buying too much since we knew our household goods were (eventually) on their way.
We’ve also had some funny “reverse culture shock” moments around the house—like realizing we finally have a normal-sized oven and fridge. After years of working with tiny European appliances and a freezer the size of a shoebox, it feels like we’re living large. And don’t even get me started on the luxury of having an actual closet. It’s the little things!
Living off base has been a bit of an adjustment socially. My husband has connected with coworkers at his new unit, but not in a "let’s hang out on the weekend" kind of way. I’ve tried using Bumble BFF to meet people—and let’s just say, it hasn’t gone great. Making friends as an adult is already hard, and doing it in a new city where you don’t know anyone? Even harder.
Still, we’ve started to explore the area, little by little—tracking down the best tacos in town, figuring out which roads to avoid at 5 p.m., and finding a favorite coffee shop (where I now know to always ask for less sweet everything). Some days feel full of potential, and others feel a little isolating. But piece by piece, we’re building something here.
Military moves are rarely smooth, and they’re never simple—but they always teach you how to settle in before things are settled, how to make home out of the unfamiliar, and how to keep showing up with an open heart.
Part Nine
What I’ve Learned About Myself Through This Move
Every military move teaches you something—but this one has taught me more than I expected.
This was our first AGR move, our first home purchase, our first time setting down roots in the States after living overseas—and it came with its own set of highs, lows, and growing pains. Through it all, I’ve learned that I’m more adaptable than I give myself credit for. That I can navigate the chaos, make big decisions, and keep going even when everything feels uncertain.
I’ve learned how to let go of control, because honestly, in military life? Control is a myth. You just have to trust the process, stay flexible, and figure things out as you go. I’ve learned how to be patient (okay, more patient) when plans change, timelines shift, or things don’t show up when they’re supposed to.
And maybe most importantly, I’ve learned that it’s okay to miss what you left behind while still embracing what’s ahead. I miss our life in Germany. I miss the travel, the cobblestone streets, the friends we made, and the version of life we had there. But I also know that this new chapter in Texas holds potential, memories waiting to be made, and pieces of ourselves we haven’t discovered yet.
We may still be in the early days of settling in, but we’re here. We showed up. And that’s where it all begins.
