The toasters for Lima came in.Sheila didn't mess around. Just after we left with the first haul of crockpots she called her boss Karl on the way home and let him know what we needed.

The follow through was such a surpirse. When I called to confirm, Karl already knew my name, had made the shipping changes and had a pick up time for me to come back. I think I got as far as, "hi my name is H--" before on that phone call before he cut in and said as much.

His take-charge, matter-of-fact attitude over the phone had some origin. Turns out he served in Korea with the Army in the 25th's "Tropic Thunder". Guess where he was based? Yep. Same place Lima is now. Hawaii.
He and Tony traded stories as he fussed over packing things just right. Naturally, there was some good humored smack traded between soldier and Marine. But like he said, "Gotta take care of my brothers. You tell them to take care of themselves. Okay?"

Milsupport Impact on the Family:
I took the kids to the pool at our YMCA. It's hardly a pool really, more like a veritable water park.
Padded deck for the splash pad areas, slow slopes into the pool to ease the littlest swimmers into play on slides or under a giant bucket dumping well timed water on their maniacally delighted little heads.

Bedecked in brightly colored swimsuits with their hair plastered down around their ears from the last dousing, they made a science of finding the perfect spot to stand in for the next deluge and still jumped up as if it was a huge surprise to be gasping for air and grabbing at their shorts to keep them up.
I loved all the


"Look mommy!",

"Hey take a picture of this for Dad!"


"Watch me!"s


Enthusiasm like that is contagious and almost expected. If any of those exhortations are said repeatedly at you at an eardrum splitting decibel, it can even be perturbing...
Yet, what made this mama's heart burst was watching them pause once in while in their joyful noise to remember one or another of our friends in Iraq or Afghanistan.(Course, I'm thinking Matthew, America's 1st Sgt.'s arch brownie nemesis is gunning for Mike in this one, Wanna chip? Psyche!Wanna chip? Psyche!Wanna chip? Psyche!Poor Little Guy, come R&R, there'll be hell to pay...)


While there (hopefully, mom thought) wearing themselves out in the water, one of my progeny would smile and hold up three fingers.(In this case, family code for "hey send this picture to 3rd Bn, 3rd Marines. Each unit, shop or company we work with has some number we like to use when we say hi, so they know we are thinking about them in whatever picture it is.)

I won't gush, I swear, but I really was proud of my little otherwise sibling teasing, wedgie giving, How-come-I-never-get-to-and-what's-for-dinner, toads.

My kiddos don't really know the reasons we are over there in more detailed terms aside from: the "Mahweens and soljurs" as my littlest calls them. Warriors, as my older children hear their own father call them, are faaar away over the ocean at war. Thekiddos know these men and women have families they miss, that they can't have ice cream or chips anytime they want and that it's HOT there a lot of the time or very cold. These are simple child perspectives that measure a circumstance in what ways children would identify as sacrifice.

JOHN HART: One Person's Sacrifice
I didn't think anymore of the pool outing until I got an email tonight from Coffeypot, which discussed what befell each of the signers of the Declaration of Independence in the aftermath of putting their name to it. The preface of the piece was:

"They were men of means, and well-educated, but they signed the Declaration of Independence knowing full well that the penalty would be death if they were captured."

The quote struck me, perhaps because of the carefree time I had with the children yesterday. Seen in a new context where much less was assured for the citizenry there, I read this:



"John Hart was driven from his wife's bedside as she was dying. Their 13 children fled for their lives. His fields and his gristmill were laid to waste. For more than a year he lived in forests and caves, returning home to find his wife dead and his children vanished."



I thought about his 21st century peers at the pool yesterday with the Lexxus SUVS parked out front, hanging shingles here in the Clear Lake area as engineers, attorneys, physicians or business owners and living in their own suburban fiefdoms. Texas is a state known for a tradition of philanthropy. Like Hart, many families here of means,whether great or small participate heavily in the building of churches, schools and groups like United Way and other relief efforts.

I wondered if any of the men or women sunbathing or enjoying their kids that day took the next step or would if called upon like Hart had been, to take another step into public service to help lead their community? Would any of them have been willing to risk their reputation and everything they had built to maintain their way of life on their terms?

Would they leave their spouse on their death bed to continue their service, have their home and business ransacked and burned, only to return and find their spouse dead and their children gone? In their midsixties, would they hide in a cave and the woods for a year and emerge from there still so fully convicted in their cause they would welcome Washington's rebel troops to use their fields during growing season to prepare for battle and then die soon after penniless?

I wonder.

I feel blessed to know that this man did.
I would hope that in similar circumstances I would as well.

I honor his sacrifice and those that with him, signed this blueprint for our fledgling country. I hope my family will always be willing to perpetuate our forefathers' efforts.
Sage said all this pretty darn well, too.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
LETTTERS TO LEATHER NECKS:
Saturday Sitrep

Someone from Sage's blog sent me a box of great stuff, but there was no note...just this. Thank you much. I have about a dozen letters here going out and each will have some drink mixes in them from the box you sent.

Ally has been busy just dubbing her little heart out from regular old TV shows commercials and all. I know the guys and gals will love it! It felt completely weird to be on the receiving end of two priority boxes these week though...lol

I also received money from @TerriLPN on Twitter, Ally, T, two anonymous donors and Red. (more on the Crockpot project later today)
I am so not ready to put a a complete list of folks who bought a toaster or a crock pot or both or who sent money.

I can't seem to access Twitter and I know I have new people to acknowledge.

In the meantime, I'm still reeling from the shopping. lol. So here's the low down so far, after getting haircuts with the kiddos and Dad...I had him stop at a factory outlet on the way home "just to run in and check". Five minutes later I'm motioning for Tony to park the car. JACKPOT!

Woohoo! not only did we find crock pots-- I found crockpots that also roast, slow cook, bake, steam and reheat. They aren't breakable, slightly lighter and offer a lot more versatility.

When the clerk said they were 20% off I grinned and said "COOL! I need six! They are going to Iraq!"

Her response was basically a slow smile and a , "Oh,did I say 20%? I meant 30%.." I love these little kismity moments. From the fluke of finding better than we need for less than I planned to Tony being able to get them all into that trunk, I was high for hours. Even cooler, Sharon, the lady in the picture with Tony, said to come in today and see if they can gather up the toasters for us, too. She was happy to help our Marines she said.

It's gonna to be a great 4th of July here.

I hope everyone else has a great weekend, too!

<--- I crashed Dark Stormy heres meme today...though I could have actually been an odd numbered comment in his comments and so thereby legitimate in my meme anointment...not sure. See, I didn't actually count. First, I just noticed that this meme fits great with doing a military support blog post for Wednesday--not really--first I noticed holy cow that guy gets a lot of chick comments and THEN I jumped on the post idea.

Anyway so the meme says to go to the first folder in your pic file and post the tenth picture in it.

It would have it that the first folder in my pic file is 'Burke'. All the photos that go into Castra Praetoria, or that he sends in general, go in there. Here's the tenth pic.

I posted a blown up version too, so you could see the expression on his face...You know how extra funny something is, if you know the person in the story so you can flesh it out with the expressions, curses and exasperated sighs which ensue? HAHAHAHA!!! When I got this pick I was howling I tell ya!! He probably heard me all the way on base in Iraq...I hit dead center from 7000 miles away? Hey! Where's my expert marksman badge?! Huh? Huh? I want it! It's mine, dammit.

*deep, satisfied exhale*

If I smoked, I'd need a cigarette right now.

Ok. I'm through gloating reminiscing, I'm supposed to explain the photo..HeeHee. Gladly. Seems Marines, my own at home did this when we were dating, incidentally, are reluctant to share the date of their first arrival into the world for fear of public reprisal and or good clean fun at their expense.

I learned this the hard way during the early months of milsupport, but that is for another post. So anyway, being the warm, generous, thoughtful human I am, (notice I did not strike through any of those), I post to Castra Praetoria, I have keys to the blog being it's architect, wishing America's 1st Sgt many happy returns. I thought it would be nice if we could get an online party for the birthday boy in comments from his readers, too. I know. *SIGH* I'm such a giver.

Well turns out his Sgt Maj, the senior non-commissioned officer for his Battalion, (read here: about 1,000 to 1200 of his closest friends), reads Michael's blog and decides to share the news in a well worded, early morning, all hands kinda greeting which went like this:

To: AA_TFMP_3/3_ALL_HANDS
Subject: America's 1stSgt's birthday: 4 June

UNCLASSIFIED

Yes,

Contrary to public belief and rumor (most started by the 1stSgt), he was actually born of mortal woman on the 4th of June. He did not just appear in full combat gear with sharp objects in his hands.Remember to say Happy birthday to the legend in his own mind!

SgtMaj, Task Force MP (3/3)Al Asad, Iraq

Then there's the ambush birthday greeting party that awaited Burke outside of the chowhall after lunch replete with bullhorn, singing and much commentary on his impending decrepitudes special place in their hearts.

The aftermath you can read here.

I did get a very nice email which, when translated to civilian went something like this"Gosh, sis, that was so thoughtful and hey, thanks for all the presents, too. My loving Marine family went out of their way to make it special. Really. You do TOO much.

Here's the untranslated version of thanks from my favorite 1st Sgt:

"You will pay."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

If you haven't been reading much on the election aftermath in Iran and want to catch up, hit here for how to help, especially if you Twitter. Precautions for keeping Iranian tweeters safe are included. Hit here for an opinion of what the US should do next and here for a piece on thinking past the emotion of events unfolding and taking a look at the two men who vied for the Iranian Presidency. I have no opinion yet of Abadinejad or Mousavi, but I do believe, the people of Iran had a right to an honest elective process.

I left a bunch of links from the weekend and the Iranian election in this post.

USMC 81 is working on a blog badge for supporters who sent in donations or supplied links for the last drive for shipping donations to get things out to our Marines and soldiers in Iraq. I should have it ready for unveiling on Saturday along with pictures of what's been going on this week.

Susan, thank you for the box of goodies, it is labeled and headed out soon to Afghanistan. Lisa and Chris, the magazines are headed to Iraq. Hey Amy and Mel, I found the twenty you slipped in my desk drawer for a couple of boxes. I used it today to send popsicles and bedding. Love you guys!

hope, out.

Some notes from last deployment:
Thank you for the letter and the stories. Not to mention the "BrainDamaged" picture was pretty funny. We all know what you mean about"Family" vacations. They can be fun and horrible all in the same moment, but they will always be in our hearts as the best of times. Please keep them coming. You are one of our regular writers. Have you ever thought about writing a book of short stories about family vacations?.... You have a way with words. We love to hear the stories. well thank you for your support and the prayers are always welcome.Thanks, SSgt X & The Airframes Division at HMH-XXX, Djibouti

Hope,

Once again, I have to tell you that you are the greatest and that you are awesome. I got a few more packages and letters from you today, and among them was the 2nd most motivating piece of mail I have got the whole time I have been out here. (the first being pictures from my wife and I'm sure you understand why she takes first place).The guys are really jealous of the cheerleader picture. (I have a connection with the Houston Texan cheerleaders, they sign 8X10s for me each season)I think that I am going to put it up in my office to make others jealous. I'll see what I can do to get you a picture from us. Seriously Hope, I have to thank you for all that you do for us. You really to help make life better out here. I know your going to say that you should be thanking us and so on and so forth. But seriously, for all the time, effort and money that you put into us, you deserved to be told thank you and take it without any argument. So that being said,thank you to you and your family. You all are awesome.
Sgt. X, Fallujah

Three folks answered the call yesterday to support 3rd BN 3rd Marines. I really appreciate your commitment to these Marines. Paypal hangs onto the funds for a few days before they are released into my account so I'll contact those who's generosity was so gratefully recieved and let you know the details. I wasn't sure about mentioning you here without permission. I'll post more about where they are and what they might like tomorrow. Sarah, thanks for offering to help dub TV. Yes, I don't think they mind commercials, at least my Marines didn't last deployment. Anything that smacks of home... (Picture:LCpl Samuel Mincey, one of my former adoptees from Kilo Co, 3rd BN 3rd Marines, on patrol in Karmah Iraq 2007)

Speaking of home, I drove through the town I lived in while in high school last night. Having attended 18 schools growing up. Yes. 1-8. No typo-- this town was special in that the last 3.5 years of growing up, we stayed in one place. It became the first place I would call home with a straight face.

Alone for the daytrip, I also found myself driving past the house we lived in to see that time had carried it away and replaced it with a new one. As I slowly rolled through the neighborhood instigating at least one or two neighborhood watch entries I am sure, I also found my spot. Every angst ridden, painfully intense teenager has such a place. (whom am I kidding I still have these spots...remenber the picture in my old header?)

My thinking spot,

if you will,

unlike my home,

looked exactly the same.

Had I had the time

I would have climbed up

on my perch

out over the water

to draw a few breaths,

but there was no time to be had.

It was here I

planned the demise of siblings,

went to cry unabashedly,

laugh hysterically,

plot vengefully,

and be dumped by a very short-sighted Senior,

It's where I shredded my first university acceptance letter, and found Sanctuary after I came home from school to find very angry parents asking why said university had called to offer an applicant they rejected a last minute scholarship. So. completely.busted.

It's where I often

journaled,

read

and sometimes just disappeared for an afternoon away from adolescent trials and tribulations to count the ripples stones made as I dropped them into the water.

I even remember sometimes wondering what it would be like when I came back one day all grown up to see, if my tree was still there. Moving so often, I often made promises to the child I was in each place to come back and claim a particular space; to acknowledge my history and somehow give it a credibility hard won with so few roots ever setting deep into any particular soil.

Getting out of my SUV and walking down the creekbed was like opening an old box full of letters and keepsakes kept on a shelf for twenty odd years. Memories rustled in the feel of the grass under my feet, the smell of the creek, in the echos of calls to supper brought to life in the muffled sounds of children playing in a nearby yard. It was even in the feel of the air about to bring rain like all Mays then seemed to do growing up along Oyster Creek .

Clear thoughts escaped me.

Clarity came from senses gifting me with a subtle, fleeting poignancy.

Taking a coastal road back, all the same senses were useless save sight later that evening. The night wrapped around my car in an inky fog shrouding and pulling back with it the evening's reverie as I drove towards home.

I've reached critical mass on the homefront.

Kids are on some kind of parent hating crack.

Insurance company is about to bend me over the couch on a claim. Fine. It's insurance I won't rank on that. But I will insist on picking the guy, and demand he bring me flowers and buy me dinner first. Damn it.

I have GOT to get back in the gym. I've been slacking in the worst way. A good pounding is in order. Physical, I mean. State Farm is taking care of the rest.

I could give one hairy rat's tookus what Michelle Obama's favorite food is. How does Pakistan and nuclear security, Holbrooke's testimony or the Taliban spokesperson, Zabiullah Mujahid's, interview this morning rate following that kind of noise on CNN? I don't think I will ever wrap my mind around the fact that we as a people are such sheep, news directors can pull this crap. WHO CARES? If you felt just as dirty watching that, go look at one of these blogs and bring yourself up to speed-- maybe save a few brain cells. Registan.net Ghosts of Alexander Or check out the link at the top of the middle column called War on Terror News. Go ahead. I dare you.

Okay.

**Deep breath**

In an interest of regaining a semblance of composure and giving this post some sort of legitimacy, let me end it in a different tone. Whining, pissing and moaning will only take me so far. (Granted, the drink at lunch will have helped with my attitudinal re-direction.)

I need some sheets for twin beds. Three sets actually. Four, if I can get them. Laundry service in the Sandbox is pretty tough on fabric and sleeping on rough is not so fun, especially when you've worked in rough all day. Any kind of super hero type sheet and or comforter sets would put some big grins on a few jarheads faces I know. If you don't want to send and just feel like throwing money at me, that would be completely cool, too.

I can also use macadamia nuts, a protein called Monster Milk (look for link in middle column) some Amazon gift cards, coffee beans and good socks and undies (no, not for me. gheesh.)

Let's fix it so someone can have a good day OKAY? ok.

Oh yeah, before I forget.

Travis and Gman, here's your present.