Sacrifices

The grand ballroom in the former Presidential Palace is now the largest coffee shop I have ever seen. The lattes are fabulous thanks to three young men from Nepal who work ridiculous hours. One day I ordered a single latte and a double latte. The next day, when they saw me standing in line, the tall, handsome Nepali man said with his proudest smile: "single latte double latte." I've thought about trying the chai espresso, but I appreciate so much the fact that they remember my order that I don't want to change it up on them. On less busy days, they draw little hearts in the foam on top of my latte.

Metal bookcases are filled with used books that are traded on a take-a-book-leave-a-book type system. There are racks of magazines, most of which interest me none, with titles that talk about electronics, guns, and such things. I did find a Conde Nast Travel magazine that kept me occupied for an hour or so. Round tables are scattered across the ballroom, and there are several living room type seating areas, with sofas, armchairs, ottomans, and side tables. On the other side of a room divider are 20 computers with internet access.

At any given time, at least one sofa holds a sleeping soldier, sailor, airman or marine. I can only make presumptions as to why these guys don't go back to their quarters to sleep. Is it because the palace is safer? Is the break so short that walking back to quarters is not worth the trouble? Either way, this image of exhausted men sleeping in this ballroom will forever be burned in my memory.

This palace ballroom is where the people who work in Embassy Annex come to eat a quick lunch, to have a casual meeting (mostly State Dept. people), to play chess or a card game, or to connect with home. I spend a lot of time watching and listening in this room.

Yesterday a group of soldiers sat at a table near mine. As they got up I could hear them making plans for the evening when I heard one man say, "I won't be able to make it; they're inducing my wife tonight; I'll be a dad by this time tomorrow." The words were spoken as a matter-of-fact, and I am sure this man was not seeking sympathy from anyone. He was just beaming proud as can be. But how difficult it must be for him to miss the birth of his child. And I can't help but think of his wife, delivering a child without its father there to help her welcome a son or daughter. She must have strength that I can only imagine. She has to.

Every day, I spend some time sitting at a computer writing, sending e-mails, planning my journey home. And every day, I cannot help but notice that the men at computers next to me are, in large part, fixated on one thing: women. I see men signing up for online dating services, chatting with other chatters with handles like "sweet thing" (I'm just guessing this is a girl's handle), and writing letters to girlfriends, wives, fiances. Most of these guys are surrounded by their friends, but they are lonely for something more.

Jeremy has been successful as a commander in the Army. He holds a fairly important position here, and has spent well over half of the past four years either here in Iraq. He wants to have a family, and it's just not happening when he's only home for 4-5 months at a time and knows he'll be returning to Iraq so often. This guy would be quite a catch, but he isn't in one place long enough to be caught! He is successful, but he knows there is more to life than being successful at work. He wants to continue to help in this effort to give Iraq freedom - a cause that he believes in - but he is sacrificing his dreams of having a family to serve here.

Eugene has been overseas six times, and has opened a Dear John letter on four of those six deployments. He has a girlfriend now, and he's just not sure she can handle him being away for so long. "It's just too hard for them - knowing that this probably won't be the last time, and being scared of losing me, so they just call it off." They just call it off.

Rick is in love with his wife and has teenage children. This father is on his way home in a couple of weeks. I spoke to him just after he got off the phone with his 13-year-old son who just started football season. This man has been away almost three of the last four years - since his son was 9-years-old. During this conversation, his son asked him at least three times if he would be able to see him play football this year. Praise God, this man will be home in time to see half the season. His boy said hasn't gotten a tackle yet. But he's working real hard, and by the time Dad gets home, he'll be ready to show off for him.

There are the obvious sacrifices - those of life and limb. And then there are the more subtle ways that these men and women give their lives for us. Do everything you can to support those who protect us.