I’m used to being asked for my military ID. I need to get on post, shop at the PX, and pick up my meds at the hospital. I also have to use my ID card to access my computer at work (we’re a 21st century military!!)

Today is Anissa’s 12th birthday. That means a lot in our church. For the first time, she will be in the Young Women’s program instead of the Primary children’s program. She can start babysitting younger kids (though I don’t think she’s quite ready for that responsibility). 12 is about the next best thing to Sweet 16 I think, though I may just be a man and wrong about that.

For Anissa’s birthday cake, she wanted a Cold Stone Creamery cake. For dinner, I took her to one of our favorite restaurants, Red Robin, and then we went to CSC for the cake. I was still in my uniform since Emily picked me up from work and we went straight to the restaurant to beat the crowds.

I’m not shy about asking for a military discount. If a business is willing to give one, I’m willing to take. Every dollar saved can go towards something more important - like more CDs!! So, I asked the guy if they had a military discount, knowing full well they do since we go there about once or twice a month. He was a new employee so he had to ask and went into the back of the store. I quickly shoved my hands into the Peanut Butter Ice Cream tub and plowed into my face while he wasn’t looking…just kidding. Anyway, he comes back and says that they have a 10% military discount.

“Can I see your military ID?” he asked me. I simply stared blankly at him for about five seconds in my nicely pressed camouflage uniform and clean shaven face. Through the corner of my eye, I saw Emily suddenly look up and turn to me with that “did he just ask for your ID?” look in her eyes.

I got a good laugh out of that as he realized what he had just said and then applied my discount. I asked him if he was sure he didn’t want to see my ID. After all, I could have stolen this uniform, gotten a military style haircut, and just be pretending to be this worn out and tired!

I wrote a little about my experiences flying TO DC earlier. It was a very frustrating experience. However, on the way back, things weren’t so bad.
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This last memorial day I took part in a Memorial Day parade and memorial ceremony in a little town called Millbrook, NY. I along with Stefan Ralph (who is another contributor to The Sandbox book), both were invited here by the VFW and the owner of Merritt’s Bookstore to participate in the parade and conduct a book-signing of The Sandbox. Millbrook is small town that embodies everything I think Norman Rockwell would think of when he was painting. The main street is shrouded in huge trees on both sides that provide a ceiling for the street. Small shops and businesses flank both sides of the street. At the end of the street is a huge park built on soft, rolling hills that has several memorials in it for the Veteran’s of this country. The park, called Tribute Garden is the centerpiece of the town as well it should be. It is truly something to be proud of. It was built after WWI as a tribute to all that fell in that war and the monument to WWI veterans is the centerpiece of the park.

The parade was nice as Stefan and I walked in the lead with the local VFW members. At the end of the parade, we marched up into the park where an entire high school band was seated. There the band played the National Anthem, God Bless America and other songs. They had a local High School student sing the National Anthem and the Valedictorian read the poem “In Flanders Field”. The local NY Assemblymen spoke who was an amazingly young looking guy. Of course I found out why when they read his bio and it was explained that he was elected to his first office at the age of 18 and at the age of 19 became the youngest mayor ever. He was a sharp guy who gave a very good speech about what this Memorial Day meant to him and all in this country. I wish I had some time to talk to him one on one as he was very impressive. The VFW also did a 3 gun salute while Taps was played by a trumpet player from the High School band. It was all of these things that made the ceremony so pleasant and made me glad that we did the six hour drive across the state to take part in this.

As I stood there during all of the ceremony at the park, looking out at hundreds of perfect strangers, but patriotic Americans I just kind of imagined how many ceremonies were happening like this all over the country at about the same time. There were probably more happening than I could even imagine or guess. For those few moments I felt like I was in the heart of America. To me, this is what America is all about and even more importantly this is what Memorial Day is all about. Hundreds of people took time out of their day, got the kids ready, brought them to the main street and then walked them up to the park to stand in reverence as they watched a ceremony in remembrance. Some probably had family present or past that were in the military, some probably didn’t know anyone in the military. However they all came out, and they didn’t come for a raffle, or rides, or fireworks. They came to watch some old vets, some new vets, and their political leaders pay tribute to all the great Americans who gave up their life in defense and honor of this country. I was glad to see so many people be willing to give up their time, their busy schedules, etc. to honor those that gave up so much more.

After the ceremony was over, Stefan and I walked down the bookstore and conducted the book-signing. There was not a huge turnout, but the people we met were really nice and truly appreciative of us being there. We spent a lot of time talking to them, answering questions and of course signing books. David then introduced both Stefan and I. We said a few words about blogging or about our deployment and then we both read a story from the book. Since Owen (Roy Batty) could not make it, David read one of his entries and then David asked me to read one of Ben’s as Ben also had to cancel at the last minute. Since Ben and I were on the same team together I was honored to read one of my favorite stories of his called Decency and Honor.

It was a long weekend, but something I was glad I did and worth every minute of it. I was able to see many old friends and meet many new ones. My wife and I both agreed that we could easily move to the Millbrook/Amenia area and really enjoy it. It is too bad there is not a nice sized airport close by, as that would be all that I need in order to do my work. The trip was outside of our norm, but that is ok because sometimes that is what you just need to do…get outside of the norm.

You know, I’m getting a little fed up with 9/11 being used as an excuse for idiotic policies and behavior. Not long ago, when I was stationed in the DC area, I took my father in law to the Pentagon with me. I wanted to show him where the plane hit the building and the memorial they had inside. My FIL is a retired Army Sergeant First Class and an outstanding patriot in the true sense of the word. He served his country with honor and allowed me to marry his daughter – the most beautiful woman in the world, by the way! (okay, maybe that counts against him) What does he get for that sacrifice? They wouldn’t let him into the Pentagon!! The reason? 9/11!! Since 9/11, they don’t allow retirees - with military identification by the way - into the Pentagon. Now tell me: what part did an honorably retired SFC play in the 9/11 attacks? I’m sure there are some trolls lurking on the site that probably think he knew all along what was going to happen and didn’t prevent it so he shouldn’t be allowed in the Pentagon, but that’s just crazy talk. Straighten out your tinfoil hat and go here.

Well, I’m back in the DC area for a few days on TDY and again heard the most absurd thing being blamed on 9/11. While on the Charlotte/Baltimore leg of a US Airways flight, I overheard a stewardess flight attendant talking to another passenger. Keep in mind that this passenger most likely paid a few hundred dollars for the square foot of personal space called her seat next to the window. The lady in seat 13F was asking the flight attendant her name. She gave the passenger her first name and the passenger asked for her last name as well. Apparently, something happened before I got on the plane that I was missing.

A few people were upset because they had packed their kitchen sinks in their baggage and all the overhead bins were full. The bags didn’t fit under the seats in front of them and had to be checked under the plane. One guy wasn’t having it. He wouldn’t deplane and wouldn’t allow them to check his bags. Instead he complained that he “didn’t trust these people” with his bags. I contemplated violently shoving his nose into his brain, but thought better about it as I had a mission to complete that didn’t involve a trial. They gave him a choice to deplane or check his bag. He didn’t want to do either. A huge US Airways employee convinced the man to choose one of the two. Needless to say, he didn’t leave the plane. There was a lot of murmuring as people were generally irritated because they should have to the right to carry their kitchen sink with them if they want. Damn anyone else’s right to share the limited space available in the plane for personal items.!!

Anyway, the flight attendant told the lady she couldn’t give her last name. “Why not?” asked the passenger. “We’re just not allowed to give it out since 9/11.” WHAT?!?! Are you freaking kidding me? This reminds me of an issue I recently had with one of my Soldiers. He is having trouble with the military’s payroll deductions to pay his child support through the state of Alabama. I won’t get into details, but the lady at the Alabama child support services (or whatever socialist name it has) was very rude because he “wasn’t paying his child support” when in fact he was but the state was all jacked up.

You see, the military pays its employees either once a month or twice on the first and fifteenth. However, on holidays or when the first and fifteenth fall on a Sunday, paychecks are sent out the preceding Friday. So, if the first falls on a weekend, that Soldier will be paid on the 30th or earlier depending on the holiday. So, May’s child support payment was paid on the 1st since it fell on a Thursday, but June’s payment will go out on May 30th since June 1st falls on a Sunday. Well the state of Alabama doesn’t look at that second payment as June’s payment. They look at it as an extra payment for May since it was in the same month!! So, instead of applying it to his monthly required payment, they apply it to back child support and charge interest for a missed payment. INSANE!! Well, instead of working this through, the Alabama rep is rude and when my Soldier asked for her last name she refused to give it. Don’t worry, I took care of that problem and hopefully that lady is responsible for jobless claims going up last month.

Exactly where is the threat with last names being used on a flight? If it’s such a risk, why do I have to wear a uniform with my last name plastered all over it? When I wear my PC hat, my last name is on that as well. Does that make me a target? Maybe I should get a new nametag made that just says CJ and tell people that I can’t give them my last name because of 9/11. While I’m at it, because of 9/11 I don’t even want them to look at me. I may get scared and think they’re about to plow a plane into my grill!

Rest assured, I’ll be making a phone call to US Airways to inquire about this “policy” they seem to have on their flights. How exactly do I complain when I don’t know the individuals name? I mean, at least have a policy where the flight attendants have alias names so they don’t sound so pathetic about why they can’t give their real last names. They can use that cool Star Wars name generator to come up with unique and personal names!! It’s bad enough that these morons are taking my tax money in the form of subsidies because they can’t manage themselves adequately, charge me $25 for a second bag ($15 for the FIRST bag if you’re on American Airlines), charge me for meals, won’t give me a full can of Diet Coke, and stick me in these claustrophobic seats between the heaviest, smelliest people possible (actually, this flight wasn’t so bad; I got a middle seat and they were decent people). Now they won’t tell me their last names?!

There are two G.I. Bills that have been snaking their ways through Congress. This is actually a good thing as we’re finally working to fix something created decades ago. Since I’m on the email lists of veterans organizations from Vets For Freedom to Iraq Veterans Against the War, I’ve heard all sides of the story as they fight to get one or the other passed. I’d like to educate you all about what these competing bills provide since they will be used as political capital on both sides of the aisle.
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When I joined the Army in 1995, I joined as an enlisted Soldier. My father retired at the top of the enlisted ladder, hanging up his cap as a Command Master Chief in the Navy. As long as I’ve been in, I’ve been pushed, shoved, prodded, and encouraged to go either the Warrant Officer or Commissioned Officer route. I could have done so - and succeeded. But, I didn’t. And I don’t think that’s so bad.

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This was published in our local base newspaper and I think it paints a great picture of what our spouses put up with when we’re deployed. It’s from a wife named Nikki and was written to her mother. Her mom says she talks with her several times a week to see “how she is doing,” and of course always gets the same answer: “Oh, I’m doing OK, and so are the kids.” Then, the other day, Nikki sent her mom this letter and told her “’Just a little something I would share with you all…’– Love, Nikki.”

“I’m the one you walk past in Wal-Mart smelling a man’s brand of deodorant and buying the same brand of shower gel. I’m trying to remember his smell. I’m the one that sprays his cologne on his pillow so it seems like he is by me when I go to sleep.

“I’m the one you see in the back of the church, a tear running down my face as the congregation prays for our country and our troops. He’s one of them. “I’m the one you beep at for sitting at a green light. I was looking at the flag blowing in the breeze at the corner gas station and thinking of all it means to me, to him, and to our life together.

“I’m the one with a trunk full of flat rate boxes and customs forms, I know my local postal workers by name. The package I send him makes him seem close to me.

“I’m the one that has silly superstitions like wearing the same necklace throughout the deployment because he gave it to me and I will not take it off or change it. I’ll wear it every day until he comes back home.

“I’m the one you walk past as I completely fall apart and lose it because I left my cell phone at home. You might think ‘it’s just a phone,’ but it’s the life line of my marriage and it was his day to call.

“I’m the one you have labeled as quiet or reserved, the one who is never really part of anything, you don’t know I wear the faraway look because my heart boarded the plane with his.

“I’m the one that hears ‘tell him I say thanks, that I’m praying for him’ at least once a day, and I always tell him for you, but I can’t help but think, who prays for me as I continue to do my best to serve him.

“I’m the one that nods right along as you say that you understand or that it’s better now with the Internet. I know that it is, but what you don’t know is that nothing will ever replace the joy of receiving a letter or that the webcams and instant messenger just remind me of all the million little things about him that I love and miss.

“I’m the one that is so used to saying I’m fine, to being numb, to missing him, that I can’t remember any other way to be. I wonder at times if the ‘fine’ he tells me is the same ‘fine’ that I seem to be these days.

“I’m the one that hates Friday and Saturday nights because if he was home we would have the option to go do something… whether it was a movie or dinner or even just stay home and have family night and watch a good movie with the kids.

“I’m the one that eats out more often because it’s just not the same to cook for me and the kids…. He enjoyed home cooked meals…. And I enjoyed how much we enjoyed dinner and sitting at the table all together.

“I’m the one that is as strong and patriotic as the hero I married, not because I stand on the frontlines but because I stay behind stoking the homefires for months on end with a quiet resolve not unlike the one that personifies him.

“I’m the one that tells an ACU teddy bear or the moon good night, that I love you, because it makes me feel less lonely and because I hope he somehow hears or feels it.

“I’m the one that turns the porch light on at sunset to light his way back home, to me, to our life together, to the love and the good times we once shared.

“I’m the one that will see a white bus full of Soldiers or empty and start to cry… because it’s that same bus that took him away from me and I wish he was on there to come home to me.

“I’m the wife of an American Soldier; I’m the hope that lives within him after storm clouded days. The freedom from war that gives wings to his heart, may they reach across the miles and bind our hearts together against all that we must face in this world.”

Susan K. Edmunds
Proud mother/mother-in-law
and retired staff sergeant

The Berzerkeleys are at it again. In a recent editorial in the Berkeley Daily Planet former Berzerkeley Councilmember Mark McDonald slanders military recruiters and leaders. He presents three fallacies that I’d like to correct him on.
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“In the last 7 years, have you consulted with a mental health professional (psychiatrist, psychologist, counselor, etc.) or have you consulted with another health care provider about a mental health related condition? If you answered “Yes,” provide the dates of treatment and the name and address of the therapist or doctor below…”

This is one of the questions on Standard Form 86, the security clearance questionnaire for national security positions. It is used as a basis for granting access to classified government information and determining one’s allegiance and suitability for such sensitive positions.

But, until recently, Question 21 above posed a morale dilemma for many Soldiers about whether or not to seek the help they sorely needed.
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America.gov reference

Provincial Reconstruction Teams or PRTs are the key to Afghanistan and it becoming a sovereign nation that can defend its own borders, protect its people, and sustain an infrastructure. These PRTs are located all over the country and are commanded and staffed by whatever country has responsibility for that area. The US used to run the ones down where I was, but that is where the Polish have stepped in to help. This has freed up more US assets to focus on the real fight and work on eliminating the enemy.

You can read a lot more about PRTs at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Provincial_Reconstruction_Team

Of course the basic concept of war is to kill so many of the enemy’s people that they eventually give up because they don’t want any more to die. However if the enemy has a bottomless pit of bullet fodder because they are brainwashing them all over the world, then the next step is to empower the local people, help them build an infrastructure, give them something to be proud of and want to protect. This approach should empower the people to stand up on their own, produce goods, and foster a lifestyle where they do not scrounge for everything and they have to be so corrupt.