Babalu Blog: The Mailbox

November 10, 2006

The Mailbox

I was about to write a scathing response to a commenter who stated rather matter of factly that the War in Iraq had already been lost when I decided to cool off a bit before taking to the keyboard. Let me have a quick smoke, I said to myself, before I let this sucker have it.

I walked out, lit up and looked up at the skies. It was an absolutely beautiful afternoon, nice temperature, kinda breezy, with nary a cloud in the sky. I was mulling over what I was going to respond to Mr. The War is Lost when I see a Metro bus pull up at the stop across the street. No big deal, really, I see the bus stop all the time. But this time it's just stopped there for at least a minute with noone getting on or off.

Then, just as Im about to look away, a small duffle bag flies out of the bus door and onto the sidewalk and before I know it, a young man, probably in his very early twenties steps out of the bus. He's in his perfectly pressed dress Army uniform. Shiny black shoes and a chestful of decorations. He's got another small backpack over his shoulder.

He turns around and faces the busdriver, gives the guy an enthusiastic wave, and then picks up his duffle and starts walking in my direction.

It was extraordinarily quiet outside my office building yesterday. There wasnt the usual bevy of people and cars coming and going and at that very moment it was just me and him on opposite street corners.

I'm not sure why but my eyes welled up a bit. Maybe it was the solitude of the moment, maybe it was the fact that this young man, this soldier whom I have to assume was on his way home from service, had to ride a bus home all alone.

I found myself a bit overwhelemed with emotion, that familiar lump in my throat once again, and remember, suddenly, the Marine on the busbench. The one I didnt get a chance to give a ride to. The one I didnt get to thank two years ago right before Memorial Day.

Next thing I know I was running across the street after the young man.

"Excuse me, Corporal," I said recognizing his shoulder insignia.

The young man turns around and looks a bit startled. I smile at him, stick out my right hand and through the lump in my throat say "Thank you for your service, Corporal."

He smiles, shakes my hand proudly and forcefully and says "You 're welcome, sir."

I wanted to keep talking to him. Ask him where he'd been. Where he served. How it was and how long he was gone. But I didnt. This young man needed to get home. Who knows how long he'd been away. "Thank you," I say again. "Now get yourself home."

He smiled, picked up his duffle once again and continued on his way.

I stood there and watched as the young Corporal made his way down the sidewalk and stopped about 5 houses down. He then paused in front of his home, looked up at it for a few moments, as if remembering it, taking it in perhaps. How many times did he remember his home while he was away? How many times did he wish he were home, with his family? Or mowing his lawn or barbequeing or fixing that squeeky front door or painting the kitchen?

The young Corporal then briefly looked over in my direction, and then, as he turned back to his home he took his first step towards the front of his house and stopped. With his left foot inside his yard and his right foot still on the sidewalk, he leaned back, opened his mailbox, grabbed whatever letters were inside, shut the mailbox door, then made his way up the front walk and into his home. That mailbox may have been full of useless advertising or bills needing his attention, but Im sure he was glad to finally have them in his hand.

Some people may have convinced themselves the War in Iraq has been lost, but as long as there are young men like this young Corporal I met yesterday, serving their country and making the sacrifices they're making, I will fully support our troops and I will fully support their efforts and sacrifices to accomplish the mission they have been sent to accomplish.

Posted by Val Prieto at November 10, 2006 07:24 AM

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It is imperative that we never forget these fine young men and women who are sacrificing to protect us. We'll see what the next two years do to the morale of our fighting forces around the world and especially in Iraq and the Middle East.

Posted by: George L. Moneo at November 10, 2006 09:57 AM

The only way the war will be lost is if people believe it is lost. Not believing is why people fail.

(Somehow I keep thinking to that scene in Star Wars when Luke cannot believe that Master Yoda got the ship out of the swamp.)

Posted by: Cigar Mike Pancier at November 10, 2006 09:58 AM

Anybody that wants to know what a good writer is...

Look no further.

Thanks Val for posting that.

Posted by: conductor at November 10, 2006 11:58 AM

Every time we captured an insurgent in Iraq I felt hatred, but I also felt pity. They were skinny, pathetic, unwashed little creatures who could barely operate an AK-47. We have, and have had from the start, military superiority over the insurgency.

But we've been defeated politically. Every single time our politicians get up an extol Iraqi democracy we move one step closer to losing. A terrorist-sympathizer is a terrorist-sympathizer, and a Shiite extremist is a Shiite extremist, even if he was democratically elected and sits behind a dirty little Arabic sign reading IRAQI PRIME MINISTER.

I think the only solution to our problem over there is partitioning the country. Kurdistan, Shiitestan, and Sunnistan. India and Pakistan all over again. Let the migration begin.

It's hard to understand how much these people HATE each other unless you've talked to them, and seen a Shiite on the side of the road with his insides taken out and an IED put inside. THESE PEOPLE DESPISE EACH OTHER, man.

Posted by: Yoan at November 10, 2006 12:28 PM

Val, a similar moment in the recent past.

Enroute to Madeira Beach from our Tampa home for a dinner the Duchess, our grandson and I were stopped at a redlight. I had chosen to wear my USCG cap (I am a retired national staff officer (Branch Chief) in the USCG Auxiliary.

Our windows were down on a pleasant Fall day, and I heard a young woman's voice. "Thank You!"

Turning to my left in the turn lane sat a small car with a woung lady of 18-22 in the passenger seat. "Thank you for serving!" She said with a smile.

I snapped her a salute and she replied, "Not enough people tell you you are appreciated!"

"Your comments are greatly appreciated, young lady, and I will pass them along!"

She and her male companion driving the car both smiled as the turn light went green and passed on around the corner.

It made my day! All the more so as it was not a vet, nor a person in their 50s-60s, etc. It was a young person, many of whom I have thoughts of anti-war, anti-military.

I'd like to find the young lady again and give her time to explain her feelings and her life background, but that will not happen, and perhaps it is best left right where it is!

Duke DeLand, BC-MSN, USCGA, Ret.

Posted by: Duke of DeLand at November 10, 2006 12:33 PM

Very nice post and clearly generated from a grateful heart Val ... Thank You!

God Bless our brave men and women in the military and their families! God Bless America!

I wish you well :) Melek

===
"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belong to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again. Who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause. Who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat." ~ Roosevelt

Posted by: Melek at November 10, 2006 01:12 PM

Yoan, I do not think this bit of humor was intentional: "Shiitestan." I could make a lot of jokes on that one...

Posted by: George L. Moneo at November 10, 2006 01:33 PM

Beautiful Val, one of my daughters best friends husband is serving in Iraq. Not enough can be said to thank these wonderful men and women who serve our country.

Posted by: Ziva at November 10, 2006 03:51 PM

BWI airport is a major hub for the military contract flights but I had forgotten this when I walked up to the end of a line of people and asked the last man in line if he knew where the counter I needed was. Turns out the rather long line he was in was waiting for one of those contract flights out to a 'Stan somewhere in the Middle East. When I shock his hand and said 'thanks, you guys are great' he grinned from ear to ear. I don't think they hear the personal thank yous nearly enough from those of us who realize how lucky we are to have them. In future I'm making of point of speaking up when I see a service member instead of letting the chance to say thanks in person slip by.

Posted by: Retread at November 10, 2006 05:03 PM

Wish all you want but it's up to the Iraqis whether or not they will succeed. We're just in the way.

Posted by: gregdn at November 10, 2006 05:20 PM

Haha. Not it wasn't, Pitbull. But by all means.

Posted by: Yoan at November 10, 2006 09:23 PM

Val, you brought a tear to my eye. I am so happy to know that I am not the only one who walks up to military personnel and thanks them for serving. I wish more people would do that.

Well written!
Claudia

Posted by: Claudia at November 12, 2006 09:43 AM

November 10, 2006

The Mailbox

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