Page 10 - December Magazine
P. 10
The Gift deployment. I was told once, in
officer’s training, battle captains
by Jeff DeMarco “hate life.” Countless hours, hard
work, frequent blame, zero glory,
zero fun, dozen’s of: communications
platforms, geospatial tracking
systems, status boards, graphic
overlays, endless briefings and
taskings, information overload,
seemingly impossible tasks, etc. - A
true statement.
10 A.M. rolled around, mail call.
As usual, I didn’t get anything. I
drifted off into my work; fire
missions and convoys, briefings and
operation orders. A warrant officer
One gift stood out. I had never met played Christmas music off his MP3
the person who gave it to me, nor player; a mild annoyance, but good
would I. Odd, how something so for unit moral, I suppose. I skipped
seemingly insignificant, yet made lunch and missed hot chow at dinner,
with such care, can mean so much. a normal occurrence. I sat down to
I’ve gone so far as to ask my family, my cold Meal Ready to Eat and
“Don’t buy me stuff,” gift cards, looked up at the edges of the dining
amazon purchases and the like. Aside room, eyes glazed over, mind turned
from the kids, I don’t buy people to jelly from mental exhaustion.
stuff. Instead, gifts from me are Christmas lights, strung up along the
usually handmade or handwritten. In interior walls; now shut off in the
return, I prefer my family’s presence vacant space. It didn’t hit me till
and time (or books). This was a gift then; I felt an emptiness, walking
that I didn’t need, yet I cherish to this along cold sand back to the TOC,
day. alone.
A frigid desert morning, just I sat back down at my desk in the
another day in the middle-east. I had near-empty TOC, a heap of items still
been at the Tactical Operations on my to-do list. Given the job
Center (TOC) since 5 A.M., running description, others aptly named my
day to day operations of the brigade, workstation, my battle captains pit,
and would stay well into the night; “The Pit of Despair,” or “Death,” or
wash, rinse, repeat - day in and day “Doom.” A plain white plastic bag sat
out for the duration of my
officer’s training, battle captains
by Jeff DeMarco “hate life.” Countless hours, hard
work, frequent blame, zero glory,
zero fun, dozen’s of: communications
platforms, geospatial tracking
systems, status boards, graphic
overlays, endless briefings and
taskings, information overload,
seemingly impossible tasks, etc. - A
true statement.
10 A.M. rolled around, mail call.
As usual, I didn’t get anything. I
drifted off into my work; fire
missions and convoys, briefings and
operation orders. A warrant officer
One gift stood out. I had never met played Christmas music off his MP3
the person who gave it to me, nor player; a mild annoyance, but good
would I. Odd, how something so for unit moral, I suppose. I skipped
seemingly insignificant, yet made lunch and missed hot chow at dinner,
with such care, can mean so much. a normal occurrence. I sat down to
I’ve gone so far as to ask my family, my cold Meal Ready to Eat and
“Don’t buy me stuff,” gift cards, looked up at the edges of the dining
amazon purchases and the like. Aside room, eyes glazed over, mind turned
from the kids, I don’t buy people to jelly from mental exhaustion.
stuff. Instead, gifts from me are Christmas lights, strung up along the
usually handmade or handwritten. In interior walls; now shut off in the
return, I prefer my family’s presence vacant space. It didn’t hit me till
and time (or books). This was a gift then; I felt an emptiness, walking
that I didn’t need, yet I cherish to this along cold sand back to the TOC,
day. alone.
A frigid desert morning, just I sat back down at my desk in the
another day in the middle-east. I had near-empty TOC, a heap of items still
been at the Tactical Operations on my to-do list. Given the job
Center (TOC) since 5 A.M., running description, others aptly named my
day to day operations of the brigade, workstation, my battle captains pit,
and would stay well into the night; “The Pit of Despair,” or “Death,” or
wash, rinse, repeat - day in and day “Doom.” A plain white plastic bag sat
out for the duration of my
