Packages from there

M sent my company a package from Iraq. Yup...that's right. He sent a package to us as a show of gratitude for the six enormous boxes we sent him and his fellow troops. Evidently, they unfurl and fly a different U.S. flag at the Multi-National HQ in Baghdad. M sent two of them back to the states, each with a formal certificate of appreciation, signed by the unit commander and a 3-Star General verifying these flags were indeed flown.

Remember, I work in a company where about 20% of the people chipped in and supported the soldiers, but the other 80% hovered between "could care less" and "I'm not supporting those people." One person in administration sent an overall e-mail expressing her appreciation of the flag and all it stood for. Then - in what surely surprised me - she asked me in the public e-mail to tell everyone what that flag meant to me. After considerable thought, here is what I wrote, for what it's worth anyways. Once again, the 80% were included in the addressees, so they received this as well:

The first encounter I ever had with the flag was in the 1960's. I took a trip with my school to Washington D.C. We went to Arlington National Cemetery and I saw for the first time the enormous and magnificent Iwo Jima memorial. Most people assume the flag was raised after the island was captured, but that is incorrect. 20,000 Japanese soldiers held that island and its critical airport, but we only had 6,000 marines go ashore. Within days, that 6,000 was reduced to 4,000. As the dawn became the light on the third day, the morale and attitude of the marines had sunk to an all-time low. Five marines and one navy corpsman trudged up that unsecured mountain top and raised that flag, under fire the whole time. The idea was to tell the demoralized marines below that the fight was not only not over, it had just begun. Three of the six that raised that flag eventually died in the ensuing battle, won by the Maine Corps.

The next time was in March of 1969. My brother and his best life-long friend joined the marines together - did everything together as a matter of fact - except die together. I remember the Marine Color Guard presenting the flag to my brothers friend's father, and the weeping and sorrow that accompanied it.

Twenty-two years later, my comrades and I pulled up onto the edge of Rumalaya airfield, in southern Iraq around 1 am. Peaceful and quiet as we crept in, what happened the next 11 hours defies comprehension or explanation. Everything was on fire in mere minutes, as Iraqi tanks, fighter planes, and wheeled vehicles - along with a few of their American counterparts - were blown up and searing hot with the gasoline and diesel fires. To put it mildly, that airfield was a terrifying mess. Everyone was scrambling to find a safe haven, covered in soot, debris, and pretty much deaf from the pounding and bombing each side put upon each other. Sometime near the end - as dawn broke - I looked up from where I was and saw a Humvee racing across the airfield with a big American flag flying from the rear. It was at that moment that I realized just how much of an effect seeing that flag could have.

When I look at that flag, I don't see cloth dyed red, white, and blue. I don't see mistakes made, political shenanigans, or some idiot setting it on fire.

I see a guy wading through hip deep water on Omaha or Utah beach wondering how the hell he ended up there. I see a man frozen stiff in Korea in January, 1952. I see the February 1969 funeral for a brave marine, and I see a Humvee, partially blocked out by the haze, the smoke, and the grime in my own eyes, flying the flag in defiance of whoever was on the other side of that airfield in February of 1991.

And now I see one of my young protégé's raising one of those very flags in Baghdad, taking a stand and saying, "Not me. Not today. Not ever. I'm stronger than you are."

Some may understand what I'm saying here...others will not. But that's what I see when I look at that flag that flew over Baghdad...just like it flew in Brussels in 1918, Paris in 1944, and Baghdad in the present time. I see good, decent, men and women...laying it on the line for you, me, and our children. Protecting and defending millions of people they will never know or meet, even going so far as to protect those who do not understand or do not like these soldiers.

Does this answer your question?

Peace.