The Military Wife

Inspired by and dedicated to my loving wife who has been by my side through thick and thin.

The Military wife is a special individual. When she was a girl, her dreams were bold, as bold as her fine, free gaze. The every gift of grace and mind was hers in her younger days. When she was a girl, a golden girl, with a soul as fine as fire. She could outshine the brightest jewel that a rich man's love might buy her. Yes, hers could have been the glittering path thought careless, carefree life. But she fell in love with a soldier, so she became a military wife.

Away from the home of her childhood she marched at her husband's side. For she chose a wide and winding road when she became a bride. Sometimes the road was a hard one, so different for what she had planned; and sometimes she wept for him to come home, as he lay in a foreign land. Sometimes her steps would grow weary as she followed the drum and the life, but she set about making the world her home because she was a military wife.

She learned to build a hearth for them wherever her man was sent. She knelt to plant a seed of love every time he pitched his tent. Yes she always planted a seed of love and stepped back to watch it grow, for she knew before the love was gone he would have to go again. As she watched the plane go away it cut her like a knife, but she would stand there to be the comfort to her children of the military life.

To the hardships in her married life she brought one simple truth, a promise that once was spoken in the ancient words of Ruth:" Wherever you go, I will go. Wherever you lodge, I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people and their God shall be my God" She shared his joys and sorrows as they made their way through life. For she was proud to love a soldier and to be a military wife.

She bore the weight of worrying what fate might hold in store; And the wordless fear of waiting when her soldier went off to war. The nights that she spent fearing that her soldier was in vain; And the pain of wanting someone she might never hold again. She raised their children gladly through uncertainty and strife. They never heard her crying for she was a military wife.

She raised a military family with the faith her love had to hold; And she gave the pride she had inside to her son and daughter to hold. She taught them to love and know what freedom is worth. They helped her plant the seed of love for many around had heard. She never wished for better but went down the long life road. She is as much a soldier as I, for she is a very special Military Wife.

Wayne S

"For I tell you that in Heaven their angels are always in the presence of my heavenly father.”

“Oh I believe there are Angels among us, sent down to us from somewhere up above.”  I have not seen her in person.  I have not been there to gaa gaa and goo and to spoil her.  Is she not truly a precious child?


Matthew 18:1-10- The disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Which of us is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” Jesus called a small child over to Him and put the child among them. Then He said, “I assure you, unless you turn from your sins and become as little children, you will never get into the kingdom of heaven. V.4- Therefore, anyone who becomes as humble as this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of Heaven. V.5- And anyone who welcomes a little child like this on my behalf is welcoming me. 


For I tell you that in Heaven their angels are always in the presence of my heavenly father.”

Praying for the 15….

Time Happens

So as the countdown started, the days have stopped for me. Perhaps I too should have put candy in a jar. It seems like Friday but it is Thursday. The week just keeps dragging on.

The days here are filled with what in my opinion is stupidity. It seems that a good plan is put together than will work just so someone can change it at the last second, bringing us back into the realm of ignorance once more. As they search for answers it is ever apparent that they do not want the truth, they want to hear what they want to hear. Most conversations with me end with “make it happen”. I am tired of making it happen especially when it changes a plan that would have been successful.

So with this kind of thing occupying my day I have decided that when the jar is almost empty and it is my day to fly, I will report to the terminal and not return to the office after check in. So that means that within the next couple of weeks I have to put together plans to take care of everything while I am gone ahead of time so that they can be changed and people can talk bad about how I left things… Never ending circle. Coming home soon if only for a little while.

Praying for the 15…

Who keeps putting candy back in the jar?

It seems that I have been going backwards lately. The days - they just will not pass. I used to come to work on Monday and leave on Friday, now I can mark each day as it passes, slowwwwwlllyyyy dragging on… Monnnddddyyyy, Tueessssdaaayyyyy… I have grown tired of being here again and it is time to come home and spend some time with the family and friends.

Cannot wait… won’t be long if the days would just move on. It has been said you can never get the days back once they are gone. I say take them all, remove the days between now and July or August of this year. Erase them out of the book of life and I will be fine with it. But for now  I Will continue in SLLLLLOOOOOWWWW motion. Positive note: NASCAR STARTS this weekend.

Praying for the 15

My Valentine. . .

Desert Snow

Okay, so they told me I was going to the desert for a year. They told me it is not like Iraq. My recruiter told me 22 years ago that joining the Army would be a great adventure. All true…

It has been snowed now for three days. This morning it was about 5 inches deep. It is kind of nice. I feel like I am in another world, different from the one I arrived in a half a year ago. It is very difficult to go out to walk to eat though. Not that it is cold but it is not like you can walk down the street to get something eat. You have to watch out for idiots driving a bit too fast splashing through the pot holes. You have to carefully place each step to ensure one of two things does not happen. One, of course is you slip and bust your … behind, two is that you do not step somewhere that is too deep and soak another pair of boots.

So Saturday is special breakfast day. We get a group together and walk down the street to a different Chow hall to eat. They have omletes and what could pass as Egg Mc Muffins from Mc Donalds, if you close your eyes and imagine it.

Anyway with breakfast complete we left and on our way back a LTC told one of our group,” get your hands out your pocket that is why they issue us gloves”. Really set me back as I have not heard anyone corrected for this for 10 or more years. It is an Army standard but it seems to only be upheld by the “regulation readers” and LTC’s who did not forget their gloves. Seems to me that my young soldier who was corrected has more sense than the LTC to keep his hands from getting wet with snow and frost bitten because some LTC who was issued a brain by the US government wanted to boost his ego. As he strutted off there was a murmur in the group that let me know I was not the only one who felt that way.

Sometimes those of us who drive desks lose track of the real soldiers and more often than not, the real soldiers do not understand what it is that we desk drivers do for them.  We are not responsible for beans AND bullets this trip but we are responsible for the most important of the two. A soldier can go without beans for a little while in a combat zone.
My ramblings are over for now.

Pray for the 16

Hamburger g r r. . .

So I am standing in line yesterday at the Chow hall. We chose this one because on Tuesday they have hamburgers. These hamburgers are pretty good for Army standards. So the line slowly progresses up close to the door, then a young Army Soldier steps out and says anyone who does not want a hamburger can go in for main line.

This is the norm. They attempt to keep both lines full at all times and on Tuesday the hamburger line is always longer. So about 15 Civilians go inside. Now when I say civilians, it is not intended to be a bash at the civilian population here as some of these civilians do the right thing and actually support the soldier. After all that is what they get paid 6 figures for.

So I stand patiently and finally I get to go inside where to my amazement those SAME 15 Civilians were in front of me in the hamburger line. It was all I could do to wait till I got to the grill without chewing someone out.

When  I got to the grill, the last lady who had CUT in front of me, got the last hamburger. I was pissed and she knew it. I forced my way around all of those idiots and ended up with a sandwich made of OLD bread. I am tired of being here for sure but the some of the civilian population just need to go home or better yet just follow the rules. Okay I am done ranting  now.

Praying for 15…………

It is hard getting old…..

As I have aged through my military career, I found so many things that I cannot do any more. I cannot run as fast, do as many push ups, sleep as long, count the gray hairs on my head without going into triple digits…... you get the picture…. One morning early this week I found one more thing that I cannot do as I have gotten older:

 The morning started like all the rest, a quick shower and a short walk to the office. Upon arrival I put the coffee on. One of the soldiers informed me that I might be able to “get out this morning”. That is short for getting on a flight to our destination. We went to the terminal to see if we would be able to get out and we were.

We loaded the plane and were on our way. Now, as we make our way to the plane I felt the early pings of “old age”. Seated on the plane I come to realize that the plane was not ready for takeoff so we waited for thirty more minutes as the pings turned to a constant nagging. Finally we were ready for takeoff. As we taxied, the vibration from the plane began to turn my world yellow. See in my old age I have come to realize that morning coffee is always followed by morning visits to the rest room.

Now here I sit on a plane for a short 30 minute flight that would take what seemed like hours. As I sat and sweating I began to examine the slope of the floor and thought if I were to relieve myself right here at our current altitude and angle of climb it would flow out the back harmless over the country side. As I examine my surroundings I realize that right in front of me was a female soldier. Oh my, this will not work. What will I do?

I sit and listen to my MP3 player and it is playing songs like “Smoke on the Water” every song has something about water in it. The load master on the plane is enjoying a bottle of water and with each swig.. the nagging gets stronger.  As the plane lands I am unsure if I will be able to stand as my nagging has now turned to pain. I have to lean off to one side to stand just knowing that I am about to embarrass myself.

From the plane to the terminal was about a ¼ mile walk but it seems as if I was in a walking marathon. As I approached I see the “golden houses”, three in a row, actually they were blue but it did not matter. As I approach them, I know I heard a golden harp playing.

Our escort said "Sir, I need you identification card." I walked slowly to her with arm outstretched to avoid any more steps than absolutely necessary. I turn and hurry into the little plastic house.  I really thought I might have broken something this time as it did not seem to want to work, but thank God everything turned out.

Old age in this Case HURT really bad…. Go ahead and laugh. Next time I will miss the flight……. Just so you know - you got a minute OLDER while reading this…

Praying for the 15

The Jar is Getting Empty

A friend of mine told me that a good way to help family pass time until your return is to take a small candy item and put it in a jar. A count is done prior to, of the number of days until the happy reunion. So last week we decided to do this. 

Rosario has been kind of sad over the last month and I really needed some way to cheer her up. My travels here in country have really put her on edge. So each night before they go to bed they eat a Hershey's kiss and they get to watch as the jar gets emptier and emptier. 

Being married very young I really didn't think about a lifetime with anyone. I never imagined that anyone could love me as much as my wife. I always tell her that I love her more but I really believe that we have the same love for each other. I just hope she knows and will continue to know just how much that is. It seems that seeing her is the main thing I look forward to. Not saying that family and friends don't rate but just imagine a trip that takes you away from your better half for more than 8 months. The lonely nights, the dreams of bad things happening in your absence, the little things that you never noticed or appreciated that now you must do on your own. The coffee made for you in the mornings, the breakfast made with love as you head out the door, the meals made with love, clean clothes to wear, the cold beer brought to you as you work in the yard, no matter what it is you come to realize what you have when it is gone. 

I hope this will cheer up my sweetheart and I hope that the Hershey's kisses in the jar disappear rapidly.

I love you


Praying for the 15...

A little stick.

In my 23 years of military service I imagine I have received over 100 shots for this that or the other. It always starts with the medic saying "you will feel a little stick". 
Yesterday, I had to get Anthrax number five and there was that little phrase again. You will feel a little stick, then it was over no big deal right. I reached for my jacket when the flame started. It felt like I had a small torch under my skin. This morning when I woke up I felt like I had a bruise on my right shoulder and my whole arm is stiff. I sure hope I never need to get another
Anthrax shot but if I do I hope I am back home so I can wash it down with a cold beer.....

Praying for the 15

Funny Story

No names will be used in this story to protect the guilty…

Wake up, wake up, get your gear and get to the pax terminal was the rudest awakening I have had in years, but I was glad to get it as I had been trying to fly out for several days. It was 0230 in the AM. Yes, this time comes around twice in one day. After arriving at the terminal and a short bus ride to the plane, we load up for our 30 minute flight. With all the pre-flight Air Force stuff complete we are away.

Now I had the luxury of a short nap but my traveling companion did not. He had been up since 0600 the day prior, so needless to say he was worn out. As the flight progressed we both managed some sleep but his sleep was quite a bit deeper than mine. On this particular air craft the seats are a nylon bottom with a net back. All passengers sit side by side. It is kind of tight. Sometime during my friends deep slumber he leaned way over. As I looked on I noted that he was almost laying completely in the lap of the guy beside him. A guy, who none of us, knew he was from another unit.

I would not want to be a pilot on this trip. Imagine, will you, flying at night over a combat zone, without the luxury of lights. The runways are not lit, nor are the planes when they come in for a landing. It reduces the effectiveness of  people shooting at the planes as they land. So this particular flight I am guessing that the pilot and his spotters misjudged the runway by about 10 feet or so because everyone of the passengers were jolted to back to reality as the plane slammed into the runway.

For the next several hundred feet of the taxi we smelled the tread off the tires from the harsh landing. As all of the passengers started to stir, I remember the look on my friends face as he looked up at the soldier whose lap he had practically slept in, as if to say, “Who are you and why are you so close to me?”

Chief

Praying for the 15

Someone’s children

In today’s world it seems that some people do not teach their children right from wrong. I know that parents are not always accountable for their children’s actions. Some them are just rotten.  When I was growing up I could have never even imagined doing intention damage to someone’s property. I did not write on bathroom walls. I did not paint graffiti on walls or sidewalks. I think the most “damage” we did as kids was toilet paper people’s trees or shoe polish car windows and I truthfully cannot remember ever participating in either of these.
 
Just like here in Afghanistan we have people who are just downright disrespectful and nasty. Imagine this, you live in a metal connex. The metal connexes are stacked two and three high in two rows. They all face inward and have a hallway between both rows. Approximately 20 doors on each floor.  These heavy fire doors have assisted closure devices on top to ensure they close behind you. Now the respectful people guide the door closed with their hand to ensure it does not SLAM. Out of the 20 doors on the floor probably 10 of them Slam on a regular basis at all hours of the night. Makes me want to get up at 1 am and just stand outside of my room and slam my door over and over again until everyone comes out of their rooms to see what is going on. Then, with fire in my eyes, I would tell them "NOW YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL!"

Nasty comes in mainly in the restroom. There are some people who do not understand the plumbing here. Without gives too much detail let’s just say it is required to flush before, during and after. If you flush and it does not work then YOU STOPPED IT UP so use a plunger and fix it, but nope they cannot do that. They shave and leave hair in the sink, they cut their hair in the floor and barely sweep it up, they blow their nose in the shower and leave the evidence. I know they do not do this at home and this is my home for the next year. I wish their mothers were here to see these pigs.

So let’s see I am tired of the food, tired of the house, tired of most of the people and really wish I was at home with my beautiful wife, kids and grandkids. I miss everything about home, including the stuff I did not like to do, like mow the yard, take out the trash and even doing the Laundry would be okay right now..  ok well maybe that is a stretch.. I hate doing laundry…

Missing home, but praying for the 12

Military Intelligence?

Military intelligence has been defined as a military discipline that exploits information and analyze it to provide guidance to commanders as they make war time decisions.  The theory behind this concept draws on three types of intelligence sources.  

·         Strategic Intelligence is concerned with broad issues such as economics or a political assessment.  

·         Operational Intelligence is information useful in the planning of strategic objectives.

·         Tactical Intelligence is information to out bound patrols on the local threats and mission priorities.

Our government pours massive resources into the field of military intelligence, making it the backbone of our war effort.  Yet, with all of the recourses employed in this discipline, wouldn’t you expect the people in the military to also have some level of normal intelligence?  I know, for a fact, that there are many really smart people serving in the US military.  I also know, for a fact, that there are many whose behavior makes you question putting the word military and the word Intelligence together in the same sentence.

For example, consider if you will, the flight service center at the military airfield in Kabul, Afghanistan.  A fellow soldier and friend of mine was attempting to make his way from Kabul, back to Bagram Airfield where he is stationed.  With a smile on his face he approached the counter and inquired if any seats were available on the next flight out.  Here the ever helpful representative informed him that what was available to him was the back wall and a red line on the floor.  What he could do was go stand behind it until it was his turn and someone called him forward.  Obediently, although a bit stunned, he moved to the back wall and stood behind the noted red line.  Upon arriving at his newly assigned position, he turned around just in time to hear the same representative yell, “next!”

It was at this point that he realized that his journey might not go as smoothly as he had hoped.  After a rather intense conversation with the not so customer service oriented representative, he was informed that his plane would be loading shortly and he was to have a seat in the staging area where he could wait.  A mere three hours later his group was called forward to go through the security check point in preparation for their flight.  Along with the others, my friend was instructed to remove all metal objects and place them in the plastic bins located to their right.  

As instructed, he removed his bullet proof vest and placed it in the appointed plastic bin.  In addition he obediently deposited his Beretta 9mm pistol with three 15 round magazines, one M4 semi automatic rifle with 210 rounds of ammunition, 2 colored smoke grenades, 3 fragmentation hand grenades, an 18 inch bowie knife and of course for safety reasons, he was also required to remove his combat boots.  

As he moved through the metal detector, he became quite discouraged when the alarm went off and a very large security guard pulled him off to the side for additional screenings.  A total body pat down was performed and then with the help of a hand held scanner it was discovered that he had not followed instructions as his belt buckle was indeed made of metal.  After a scolding suited for a six year, my friend now being fully stripped of his belt and his dignity was sent back through the metal detector.  Once it was confirmed that he was not a terrorist want-to-be and that he was not attempting to sneak anything on the plane that might pose a danger to his fellow passengers, he was allowed to recover his belongings.

On the other side of the counter he recovered his boots along with his Beretta 9mm pistol, his M4 semi automatic rifle, all of his grenades, and the 18 inch bowie knife and was allowed to board for his flight.

I am so glad that the US military has this stringent level of security in place.  You just never know when someone will try to sneak something as dangerous as a belt buckle on a plane.

Feeling secure,

John P.

Praying for the 12.

Old Man in the Mirror

As I sat in the barber chair this morning I pondered, just who is this man looking back at me. Am I who I should be? Am I the father I have always strived to be? Have I loved enough, shared enough been kind enough or am I simple another man. My reflection looks old, the lines on the face are deep and it looks leathery. When did I get “OLD”? My oldest son has called me,  “old man” for several years but the man looking at me is not me, he is old. Where have all of the years gone? Have the best ones been given away to my country? If I were gone tomorrow would my memory fade as home has faded in my 5 LONG months away. Will I be remembered for anything that I have done or will I, am I simply just another Man in the mirror?  Take a little more off the top please, there is still too much gray showing.

Praying for 12

Robin Williams Makes me sick.

So night before last I went to see the USO show, knowing that Robin Williams would be the last performer as he was the biggest name on the bill. First was a female comedian, I cannot remember her name but she was funny, not VERY funny, just funny. Lance Armstrong was the announcer. He was funny but it seemed as if he had better things to do. He really seemed like he was not into it. Then came Kix Brooks and a song writer. I really wish they had not broken up, because without Dunn, they just cannot be the same. They did put on a good performance though. 

Then after about 2 hours of standing outside while the temp dropped from “OH MY gosh cold” to “you must be stupid for standing out here cold”, Robin Williams comes bounding on stage. I saw him arrive in and noticed his smile through the vehicle window. The smile of someone who truly loves what he was there to do. He put on a heck of a show. I think just because he supports the troops he is the best comedian of all time. I remember his Mork and Mindy days all the way till the present. 

After the show the performers staying and took pictures with the troops. This is where this blog really begins. The performance was over and as I began to move off the bleachers I noticed that my muscles seem to have frozen while standing there. With each step I walked my body got colder and colder. At one point I did not think I was going to be able make it back to my room before I collapsed. By the time I reached the door to the barracks I was trembling violently. I was chilled through and through. I went straight to my room and got in bed. There I stayed for 36 hours. I had feverish dreams about numbers. I woke up soaking wet and freezing with chills that hurt. Thanks to my friend Wayne for checking on me, I would not have eaten all day. This morning I still feel chilled but was able to make it to the office. Still feeling a bit sweaty and sick but could not stay in my room for another day.

So Robin Williams made me sick……………..was it worth it????????????? Yeah Robin Williams is awesome..

Pray for the 11

Almost Christmas . . .

I was recently reminded of the time I spent in Iraq back in 2005.  It was approaching Christmas and like every other soldier I was dealing with a host of heavy emotions.  Every fiber of my body wanted to be home, not just for Christmas, but for my children’s ball games, for their birthdays and for my anniversary.  These emotional wants were held in check by the fact that my fellow soldiers and I serve at our country’s bidding, not the bidding of our own desire.  If this means we’re away from home during the holidays to accomplish our mission, then so be it. 
  
I found a wonderful peace one day when I actually realized where I was.  I was in the middle-east where so much of what we call biblical history took place.  I found that even though the birth of Christ had taken place thousands of years before, the Christmas scene had really not changed much.  I actually saw camels that were being led by the stars.  I saw modern day shepherds who stayed awake and watch their flocks by night.  And of course, there were Army tanks patrolling the city streets.  The last part may not sound very biblical, but when you consider that the Roman Army was embedded in the area at the time of Christ birth, the stage for the story really hasn’t changed.  

With this said, it is Christmas in America, in the Iraqi desert, and in the Afghan mountains. I will spend this wonderful time of the year over 7,000 miles from my home.  But before you feel sorry for me, I recall another person who also left their home to accomplish a very special mission.  His name was Jesus Christ and he left his home in glory to be miraculously born of a virgin. Throughout his life he was loved and hated. Some saw His presence as a threat; others embraced the gift he offered them.  In the end, he changed people’s lives and as a result, he changed the world.

When we talk about Christmas our minds produce a host of beautiful images.  We can all visualize the manger, shepherds, angels, and a city called Bethlehem.  But, do you realize that all of these images are pictures from the second act of the story?  The birth of Christ was not the beginning.  The Christmas story began over 4,000 years before the manger in a place called the Garden of Eden.  It was in the garden that our Heavenly Father gave the greatest Christmas gift of all time.  He made the choice to forgive rather than to condemn.  His path of forgiveness walked through the laws of the Old Testament, down the New Testament streets of Bethlehem and up to the top of a hill called Calvary.  This is the Christmas story that brings me peace for today and hope for tomorrow even if I am sitting in Afghanistan.  

This year my Christmas celebration will be eating dinner with a few thousand of my new found friends, looking at pictures of my loved ones, and thanking God for the gift of His son. It will be merry because I choose to make it so. 

Are you still looking for that special Christmas gift? It’s not too late and I have the perfect suggestion.  “Hold the one you love… and cherish the love you hold.” 

May we all embrace our Heavenly Father’s love along with that of our families. May your days be merry and bright and may we all join as heaven and nature sing… Joy to the world; the Lord has come. 

Merry Christmas to all,

John P.

Pray for the 11

Forced March

Today we had a forced March. We lined up in formation at 9 pm(give or take) and marched down to a hangar here. We only knew that some dignitary was coming, we did not know who is was and really did not care. We would have much rather gone to bed as the night before we had a fallen hero ceremony for a soldier killed in action. As we walked through the door we could see off to the left, a band set up on a stage. At first we thought we were being forced to attend a Rock concert where the music was not mixed properly. The drums drowned out the singing so we were unsure of what the songs actually were.

From my vantage point on my tip toes I could see a podium with two microphones. Then I saw a soldier come across the stage and put the presidential seal on the front of the podium. Whether you voted for him or not, whether you think he has run this country into the ground or not, whether you respect him or not, I was in the same hangar with the president of the United States. It was kind of neat. Once he walked out and started to speak I was ready to leave. I came, I saw, I wanted sleep. Then he “acted” as if he was going to cry over the awarding of purples hearts. Was this a ploy to gain more votes or a sincere sadness in his heart for soldiers here, no one will ever know. I know what I believe.

Pray for the 11

Am I a heathen?

Yesterday I got into an altercation with a MSG. He was confronting two soldiers about something that they did not do.  When I started the conversation with him I could have begun it differently. I could have told the two soldiers to carry on or told the MSG to leave them alone or something other than what I said which obviously instigated what turned into an UnGodly shouting match that ended with me calling him something that I never should have been said. He was wrong and was very disrespectful  but I let myself stoop to his level. I am tired of people only thinking about themselves and only themselves. This person is supposed to be a leader of troops yet none of the troops here respect him and he continually disrespects them. Being a Christian but not showing the values of one has made me miserable today. Thus the title of this blog am I a heathen. God challenged me yesterday, It is not a pass or fail but a test to make me stronger. What I learned is listed above.
I am ready to go home….

Pray for the 11

Ode to the Cookie

That kind and gentle woman
Who changed my life today
I find she is the one to blame
For my tooth decay

She made those cookies look so nice
The batter mixed complete
To only eat one dozen each
A task I could not meet

One by one I munched away
With no regard for fat
How shocked I was to finally see
My stomach in my lap

I knew that I should stop at once
Before I had my fill
But darn those cookies taste so good
I didn't have the will

The only thing a man can do
With cookies on his face
Is thank that woman far away
As no cookie went to waste

John P.

Pray for the 10.

The Short Fat Man

The short fat man, who works here in Afghanistan, would like to thank all involved in his weight gain. Just yesterday he received three boxes. One loaded from top to bottom with bags of cookies. The other two loaded from granola bars, chili, refried beans, Corn chips, movies and numerous other things. He did not mention the sugar cookies or the pumpkin bread because I think his first thought was to hide these items from everyone and not share.  However after looking at the massive feast in front of him, the fat man decided that it would be impossible to eat everything that had arrived and that it was necessary to share these items with others.  Even a Short Fat man can get too much to eat.

Signed The Short Fat Man

Thank you MoM and PoP for the wonderful boxes of goodies. They will be enjoyed by all, actually have been enjoyed by all already. Breakfast this morning was Pumpkin bread and coffee with two friends, John P. and Wayne S. The Sugar cookies arrived in tact with the exception of a few broken edges. As you can tell by the picture I was already miserable yet I could not part with the two items in my hands. 

NOTE: I had to delete and cover up a couple of things in the back ground of the picture for soldier safety.

Wilma, Thank you so much for the cookies. They arrived pretty much intact and were enjoyed by many of the soldiers here yesterday.

It is great to have the support of friends and family back home. Just know that I am turning into a Short Fat Man….haha