The Little Care Package Box Disappeared from Starbucks
I used to be concerned with all the happenings from the Middle East prior to my deployment last year. The year was 2004. I read Yahoo and Drudgereport on the latest happenings, I listened to the talking heads go on about Mosul and Fallujah, and the talk was about why we are there. I never in my right mind thought I would get to visit these historic and beat-up places. I even wrote an essay to a writing contest about Fallujah, when our Marines were taking the city back. I can't find the essay and it was a great piece on a soldier's sacrifice.
In 2004, I was concerned with my career, running, and working in the backyard of course. I was in marathon craze as well that year (participating in five marathons, five half marathons, and a relay). My previous job didn't light my fire either, and running was the release from the treachery of the keyboard. Maybe I am destined to work outside? October 28th arrived with a phone call a day after drill. Sean, you need to come into the unit tomorrow! "Why?” I asked!
"You are being cross-leveled to a unit in Virginia."
"What does that mean?"
"Well, you are going to Fort Dix, New Jersey, and then to Kuwait with a medium-sized trucking company," was the response.
Everyone was excited at the unit for me. About half the soldiers and senior leaders have never been overseas and they were a little envious or interested what it would be like to participate in Operation Iraqi Freedom. So much for a marathon every other month! So this is when my life changed to pre-deployment status and I got my wish to work outside.
A year and a half later…
Post-deployment mode started in December. I was so happy to start a life that was not sand-related. I was excited to see my family, my girlfriend Lara, and Kosmo was wiggling to see me. I had a vacation in New Zealand for a couple weeks, San Diego, Lara and parental time, and I recovered from the dust and the sand. I was go go go upon my return. Now, I am back in the rat race with the rest of America. I have to do bills again, I have to commute, chow is not at 5:00, 11:30, and 17:00 any more, I have to get in the car to go to the PX (i.e. the local supermarket), and I don't know what my convoy clearance number is on the way to work. How am I going to get out of the garage without asking if I have communications, strip map, convoy tracker, weapon, protective mask, and my convoy clearance number? Furthermore, I am bombarded about immigration issues, which politician is stealing from us today, skyrocketing gas prices (again!), Bush Lied and People Died mantras, wiretapping the people, some Iranian freak that wants to annihilate Israel with nuclear weapons, Brittany pregnant again, Oprah who lost ten pounds and gained it back in a week, and who won American Idol? Post-Deployment is hard to adjust to, when all we got was Fox News in the chow hall and Stars and Stripes that was a day or two old. At least CNN wasn't played much at chow. I went from go go go to can you copy this and deliver that, and meetings as well. Boy, I love meetings! Why do we meet so much in business? So bombarded by world events, catching the latest program, and discovering that I can go out of my garage without being shot at, makes me ponder the pals that are still over there. I was just forgetting my experiences overseas when while ordering my favorite mocha, I noticed that little care package box at Starbucks disappeared..
It struck me today at Starbucks when I noticed that the care package box to American soldiers disappeared. It was there on the counter a few days ago to collect money to send coffee to our troops. Now, no mention of our troops, or supporting them, or any mention of Iraq, with exception to the roadside bomb that went off in a story in the New York Times found on the rack. I remember getting care packages every few days from the family and pals. It was one way to connect with loved ones, with people that supported me back home, and people I didn’t even know that felt they needed to cheer me up in some way. It was one of the best motivators I had overseas. I was struck in the back of the head when the care package box went missing.
I miss doing my duty sometimes, but don't miss the bad people, the hot weather, and the camp politics. I believe it is just starting to get hot over there now. The co-workers are complaining that it is too hot in the office. Don't they realize what it is like in a truck at 130 degrees in dust and sand? After reviewing weather.com, it is 100 – 108 all week in Kuwait. It is usually cooler up north, which was one reason I like going on missions. For some reason Kuwait is much more miserable than Iraq when it comes to the heat. I don't know if it was the humidity or the lack of vegetation. Being back at the real job, watching Survivor, going to the supermarket, working in the backyard, and going on with the daily life, I have become complacent about the activities my pals are going through overseas in Iraq.
Thoughts as I sip my mocha…
After driving dozens of missions behind the wire, chatting with people for all over the country, and all over the world for that matter, seeing places like the Ziggurat Ur, the Tigris and Euphrates River Valley, and the Cradle of Civilization, being in a place that few westerners ever see, I miss the activities and adventures. I know it was miserably hot and the adrenalin when you drive on ASR Sword was unbelievable and intense. But being in an office for four months since I have been back, the sense of purpose in this world for me has diminished. Yes, I enjoy the backyard and I get weekends again, but I feel small. I am one person who is insignificant in the rat race again. I am not needed to go on the mission tomorrow, to go support this company over in Zone 6, go to Camp Buering to get ready for the mission up north tomorrow, helping the third country nationals fix their trucks, and being busy and productive. Sitting in the office, instead of strapping vehicles on back of a 915 in the middle of a desert, changing tires on MSR Tampa, getting food for the third country nationals, getting to my tent at O’dark thirty, finding time to email Lara and the family, and now I have to find time to pay bills, get a haircut, find new tires for my vehicle, while worrying that I might miss Tribal Council tonight. Seeing that little care package at Starbucks sparked my memories of care packages, driving on long and dusty roads, and coming back to camp to gossip about the happenings on the latest mission. What is my convoy clearance number again?
With coffee ingested…
It is hard for me to comprehend being in the middle of a battleground as I drove hundreds of miles to desolate bases. It is equally difficult for me to sit in front of a computer monitor for hours on end filling out applications for my company. I don’t have posttraumatic stress syndrome, but I might have the need-to-be-outside syndrome. Furthermore, I am not calling my unit to go back either. I am just pondering the memories of an experience that was sparked while sipping a vente café mocha, while my pals are endure similar adventures on gun-trucks and convoys up north. With these thoughts swirling in the bottom of my white coffee cup, I need to talk to Starbucks and ask them if I can bring back the little care package coffee donation box. I think it would help me and others remember all our soldiers and their accomplishments in a dusty desolate place like Iraq.
When I'm tired, at least I'm not hungry
When I'm tired and hungry, at least I'm not cold
When I'm tired, hungry and cold, at least I'm not wet
When I'm tired, hungry, cold, and wet, well… at least I'm not being shot at
And when I'm tired, hungry, cold, wet, and being shot at…
Well, it can only get better from there!
In 2004, I was concerned with my career, running, and working in the backyard of course. I was in marathon craze as well that year (participating in five marathons, five half marathons, and a relay). My previous job didn't light my fire either, and running was the release from the treachery of the keyboard. Maybe I am destined to work outside? October 28th arrived with a phone call a day after drill. Sean, you need to come into the unit tomorrow! "Why?” I asked!
"You are being cross-leveled to a unit in Virginia."
"What does that mean?"
"Well, you are going to Fort Dix, New Jersey, and then to Kuwait with a medium-sized trucking company," was the response.
Everyone was excited at the unit for me. About half the soldiers and senior leaders have never been overseas and they were a little envious or interested what it would be like to participate in Operation Iraqi Freedom. So much for a marathon every other month! So this is when my life changed to pre-deployment status and I got my wish to work outside.
A year and a half later…
Post-deployment mode started in December. I was so happy to start a life that was not sand-related. I was excited to see my family, my girlfriend Lara, and Kosmo was wiggling to see me. I had a vacation in New Zealand for a couple weeks, San Diego, Lara and parental time, and I recovered from the dust and the sand. I was go go go upon my return. Now, I am back in the rat race with the rest of America. I have to do bills again, I have to commute, chow is not at 5:00, 11:30, and 17:00 any more, I have to get in the car to go to the PX (i.e. the local supermarket), and I don't know what my convoy clearance number is on the way to work. How am I going to get out of the garage without asking if I have communications, strip map, convoy tracker, weapon, protective mask, and my convoy clearance number? Furthermore, I am bombarded about immigration issues, which politician is stealing from us today, skyrocketing gas prices (again!), Bush Lied and People Died mantras, wiretapping the people, some Iranian freak that wants to annihilate Israel with nuclear weapons, Brittany pregnant again, Oprah who lost ten pounds and gained it back in a week, and who won American Idol? Post-Deployment is hard to adjust to, when all we got was Fox News in the chow hall and Stars and Stripes that was a day or two old. At least CNN wasn't played much at chow. I went from go go go to can you copy this and deliver that, and meetings as well. Boy, I love meetings! Why do we meet so much in business? So bombarded by world events, catching the latest program, and discovering that I can go out of my garage without being shot at, makes me ponder the pals that are still over there. I was just forgetting my experiences overseas when while ordering my favorite mocha, I noticed that little care package box at Starbucks disappeared..
It struck me today at Starbucks when I noticed that the care package box to American soldiers disappeared. It was there on the counter a few days ago to collect money to send coffee to our troops. Now, no mention of our troops, or supporting them, or any mention of Iraq, with exception to the roadside bomb that went off in a story in the New York Times found on the rack. I remember getting care packages every few days from the family and pals. It was one way to connect with loved ones, with people that supported me back home, and people I didn’t even know that felt they needed to cheer me up in some way. It was one of the best motivators I had overseas. I was struck in the back of the head when the care package box went missing.
I miss doing my duty sometimes, but don't miss the bad people, the hot weather, and the camp politics. I believe it is just starting to get hot over there now. The co-workers are complaining that it is too hot in the office. Don't they realize what it is like in a truck at 130 degrees in dust and sand? After reviewing weather.com, it is 100 – 108 all week in Kuwait. It is usually cooler up north, which was one reason I like going on missions. For some reason Kuwait is much more miserable than Iraq when it comes to the heat. I don't know if it was the humidity or the lack of vegetation. Being back at the real job, watching Survivor, going to the supermarket, working in the backyard, and going on with the daily life, I have become complacent about the activities my pals are going through overseas in Iraq.
Thoughts as I sip my mocha…
After driving dozens of missions behind the wire, chatting with people for all over the country, and all over the world for that matter, seeing places like the Ziggurat Ur, the Tigris and Euphrates River Valley, and the Cradle of Civilization, being in a place that few westerners ever see, I miss the activities and adventures. I know it was miserably hot and the adrenalin when you drive on ASR Sword was unbelievable and intense. But being in an office for four months since I have been back, the sense of purpose in this world for me has diminished. Yes, I enjoy the backyard and I get weekends again, but I feel small. I am one person who is insignificant in the rat race again. I am not needed to go on the mission tomorrow, to go support this company over in Zone 6, go to Camp Buering to get ready for the mission up north tomorrow, helping the third country nationals fix their trucks, and being busy and productive. Sitting in the office, instead of strapping vehicles on back of a 915 in the middle of a desert, changing tires on MSR Tampa, getting food for the third country nationals, getting to my tent at O’dark thirty, finding time to email Lara and the family, and now I have to find time to pay bills, get a haircut, find new tires for my vehicle, while worrying that I might miss Tribal Council tonight. Seeing that little care package at Starbucks sparked my memories of care packages, driving on long and dusty roads, and coming back to camp to gossip about the happenings on the latest mission. What is my convoy clearance number again?With coffee ingested…
It is hard for me to comprehend being in the middle of a battleground as I drove hundreds of miles to desolate bases. It is equally difficult for me to sit in front of a computer monitor for hours on end filling out applications for my company. I don’t have posttraumatic stress syndrome, but I might have the need-to-be-outside syndrome. Furthermore, I am not calling my unit to go back either. I am just pondering the memories of an experience that was sparked while sipping a vente café mocha, while my pals are endure similar adventures on gun-trucks and convoys up north. With these thoughts swirling in the bottom of my white coffee cup, I need to talk to Starbucks and ask them if I can bring back the little care package coffee donation box. I think it would help me and others remember all our soldiers and their accomplishments in a dusty desolate place like Iraq.
When I'm tired, at least I'm not hungry
When I'm tired and hungry, at least I'm not cold
When I'm tired, hungry and cold, at least I'm not wet
When I'm tired, hungry, cold, and wet, well… at least I'm not being shot at
And when I'm tired, hungry, cold, wet, and being shot at…
Well, it can only get better from there!
Posted by Sean
10:36 AM
2 Comments:
I think Starbucks should bring back the care package box, too. I guess not only is it a message to the soldiers serving that we remember them, but it also reminds us. Never thought of it that way. I guess many people need those reminders.
But Starbucks still is getting java over there.
By
CaliValleyGirl, at 3:21 PM
It would be nice to see the box put back.
While on leave i noticed a few things. Leave, unlike demobilizing, means you have to return back to the sand box. As Sean knows, for some this can be a awkward feeling, leave that is.
The day my wife picked me up from the airport I found myself leaning away from debris on the freeway and scaning the first couple of overpasses. That quickly went away after my wife asked me what i was doing. As the first day of leave at home kicked in, i thought about the mission. Route statis before leaving the house, ROE and EOF, Briefing the route, alternate route, actions on contact and enemy tendencies, just to name a few. When in Iraq i brief nearly every mission to the security force that i'm assigned with, (it helps me to keep busy and to stay focused) the morning of. By the 2nd day i was able to function as a husband and a father and that was nice. This deployment has giving me a better understanding of the important things in life.
I hope that when i'm home for good, it will be a quick transition back to normal life. My bottom line is this, Sean ya did well and i'm glad that you are home. I'm honored to know you and i cant wait to meet Lara.
Drink that much deserved coffee, for you have earned it.
Duty, Honor, Country!
Front Gun Leads The Way!!!!
By
Anonymous, at 1:01 PM
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