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Jennifer Tanner

Jennifer Tanner

Tag Archives: care packages

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14 Sunday Oct 2012

Posted by jennifer tanner in Posts

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

Afghanistan, Army, Ask an Editor, Avon Romance, care packages, contemporary romance, editors, Facebook, Facebook after death, jennifer tanner, Lucia Macro, publishing opportunities, romance university, series romance, soldiers, submissions, Theresa Stevens, writing romance

Back in June, I logged onto my Facebook page and saw a birthday reminder for a friend and former co-worker. I clicked on her page and read the birthday greetings on her Facebook wall.    

Posting birthday wishes on someone’s FB wall is nothing new, but my friend died two years ago. I still receive updates on my wall from her FB apps. It’s a cruel reminder that she’s gone, but I can’t bring myself to unsubscribe. 

I used to follow a blog written by a young Army captain stationed in Afghanistan. He asked his followers to donate school supplies and soccer balls to the children in his area of operation. I made a run to Target to pick up balls, ball pumps, and other care package essentials. The next day, I checked his blog for any updates. 

The first sentence of his post read…If you’re reading this that means I’m dead.

I read on thinking it was a joke. Tragically, it wasn’t. In a beautiful, heart-breaking post, he thanked his family and friends. He professed his love for his wife and stated that he always knew he didn’t deserve her. At the end of the post was a brief note from a friend who had filed the final post on the captain’s behalf.  

I had surgery earlier this summer. Mindful of my late friend’s FB wall and the captain’s final post, I gave my crit partner and friend, Carrie, the password to my FB page just in case I left the party early.

Had I made an early exit, I guess Carrie would have posted details of my demise on my FB wall…something funny (I hope) in keeping with her sense of humor and mine. (Thanks, Carrie!)

What about you? Do you have a Facebook directive in case of the inevitable?

:::::::::::::::::::::::

It’s editor week at Romance University!

Monday/Wednesday – October 15th & 17th….Lucia Macro, executive editor at Avon/Morrow, talks about publishing opportunities (print and e-book) with Avon. If you write contemporary romance or series, Avon might be the right fit for you. Drop in and ask a question and get the skinny on submission requirements.

Friday – October 19th…RU’s resident editor, Theresa Stevens, is back with her column, “Ask an Editor”. Here’s your chance to ask questions and read Theresa’s critique of an entry submitted by one of RU’s readers.

Everyone (romance and non-romance writers and readers) is welcome to join us. Hope to see you! http://romanceuniversity.org

 

 

 

The Knife

05 Thursday Apr 2012

Posted by jennifer tanner in Posts

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

care packages, remembering veterans, vacation, Vietnam veterans, Vietnam War

I received a lovely letter the other day from a young Marine lieutenant thanking me for the packages of Girl Scout Cookies and coffee I sent to his unit in Afghanistan. Hearing from them makes me grin all day and puts things in perspective.

Later the same day, I received an email from my cousin Alec about an impromptu visit he had with a friend. I grew up with Alec and his four brothers. He taught me how to tie my shoes and shoot rubber bands.

We pay homage to our military in different ways. I send care packages. Alec wrote a touching essay that made me think of the thousands of veterans, each of whom have their own story to tell.

Alec has allowed me to share his email with you. It’s about his friend Dave and Dave’s friend, Herman, both of whom fought in Vietnam.

Kind of a salute to all war veterans through a first hand account or actually second. I guess as you get older, history affects you differently. I had to get this story out as it was fresh in my head.

Yesterday around 2:30 p.m., I was pretty much done with all I could fake that had anything to do with work, so I decided to drop by to see my buddy Dave at his shop. Dave is in his mid-sixties and perhaps the last of a breed that can still do blacksmith work the old-fashioned way. Every so often I get the opportunity to include his work into my jobs, and it always add a certain level of depth to the final product.

He was carrying on in his usual colorful, loud way about how the world is going to hell, the lack of good work, politics, etc. Of course he does tell me what he’s up to now and shows off the work in progress. As I was trying to leave, he started telling me about his neighbor and how he made some throwing knives for him. I told him I had friends that would have liked to have seen them. The conversation turned to knives which is when brought up his friend.

This story really isn’t so much about Dave or me but more about his friend. I will tell you a little about myself later.

Herman Lawrence Woods grew up in Florida with Dave. They did the same kind of crazy things I did when I was a teenager–double dated, worked on cars, you get the picture.

Dave, drafted in 1967, became a submariner who spent most his time covered in grease in the engine room. His view of the war differed from Herman’s, who was drafted a year later.

Herman eventually landed in the Army’s First Calvary division and rose to the rank of sergeant. Before I go any further, I wanted to mention that I did think about Googling his name to get some historical accounting, but then decided not to. These accounts are from Dave, who was Herman’s life-long friend. I didn’t want my research to influence my story so I’m just telling it pretty much from listening to Dave, who got it first hand from Herman.

By 1970 Herman was a well-known bad ass with years of combat experience. But he couldn’t move up in rank because he was a non-conformist and liked doing things his way. Rather than the standard Army issue, he carried a 357 Colt Python, a shotgun, and his knife of choice, The Randall. His duties were to find and clear out the enemy from tunnels and hidden posts, which is how they got the nickname Tunnel Rats. In Cambodia tunnels were more like trails of thick jungle undergrowth that had to be cut through. 

Herman’s platoon was out on patrol one day in Cambodia. Herman was on point, his usual spot. As he quietly worked his way through the jungle, he noticed what appeared to be an unnatural jungle canopy. Using the point of his shotgun, he slowly picked up the cover and saw a North Vietnamese soldier setting a trip wire at the entrance of the tunnel.

Herman instantly lowered the shotty and let loose, taking out the soldier but not before he was able to yank on the trip wire. The ensuing blast blew Herman straight up into a tree. Stuck in the tree with no legs, more North Vietnamese soldiers came flooding out of the tunnel. They shot him out of the tree. He hit the ground. His patrol started losing ground and was about to get run over until the air support they’d radioed in for showed up. When his platoon was able to get to Herman, he was shot up, blown up and bleeding to death. But still alive.

A routine Army patrol meant sending out patrols to shake out the enemy. Once you find them, you engage them and expose as much of them as possible. Then they call in the gun ships which would riddle the place to pieces and also provide cover for the medevacs that came in almost right behind.

It’s my guess that this procedure is what saved Herman because they were able to get him evacuated quickly. The base did not have the proper medical facilities for such an injury so they packed Herman into a bathtub full of ice and flew him to Japan where they patched him up best they could. He ended up losing one leg below the knee and one above the knee.

Now Dave and Herman really never saw or heard of each other since they were drafted until one day in 1982 right here in Petaluma when Dave walked into Dan’s Auto Parts and there of all people was Herman. He had been outfitted with two prosthetics and was able to get around pretty well. He had a car with hand controls and participated in the Wheel Chair Olympics.

Fast forward again to about 2008 or 2009. At this time I’ve known Dave for only about eight or nine years. I had just start hearing about his friend Herman who was now on the downhill slide. He had always been hard to get along with and at this point, had no one left to care for him.

Though Dave tried to help him and cheer him up, all he could do for the next six months was to watch his friend slowly will himself to death. During this time, I was only getting bits and pieces of the story because I was up to my ears with work and stress. But from what little I observed, Dave had the daunting task of helping with the funeral and cleaning up the years of stuff Herman had collected.

This brings me full circle to yesterday and why I’m telling you this story. One of the items left to Dave was Herman’s combat knife that he’d carried with him on every campaign.

The knife feels like about a pound and a half of heavy metal. If you look at the handle it has wire wrapped around it. I’m told this was used as trip wire. The little pocket on the sheath is for a sharpening stone. I’m also told that this knife had a lot of action, which kind of gave me the shivers as I held it. When you hold the handle and put it into the sheath it has the feel like it’s been through this routine many times.

After holding the knife for awhile, I suddenly felt the urge to write this down so I wouldn’t forget it. I got my camera and note pad, jotted down the notes and had Dave take this pic of me holding The Knife.

Not only is he a bad photographer, but I wish I wasn’t smiling so much.

I graduated from high school in 1972. Unlike most hippies, I dutifully went down and got my selective service card. Like every guy in my situation, I waited to see what my lotto number would be. For you kids out there, this wasn’t about winning money. All three of my other older brothers had lotto numbers in the 300’s and when I finally got mine it was 27. Here we go. Or not.

It might have been the election year or that the country just had enough of Vietnam, but that was the year when the draft ended. I started at the junior college down the street for the next three years. (Yep, three years.)

Dave also had an Army helmet that looked well used. He wanted me to put on so he could snap a pic. I didn’t feel like I deserve to wear it.

It’s been forty years since I registered for the draft. I’ve never had to pick up arms or fight other peoples’ wars. I’ve never had to lose a pound of flesh–or more. But I’ve been enjoying the freedom that some people are unable to understand.

Perhaps passing on the story of Herman’s hard-won life and his sacrifice is a small contribution to his memory.

If you’ve read this far, I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I did writing it.

Alec

*

The next time I see a veteran, I’ll think of Herman’s story.

On the Ninth Day of Christmas – It’s Not Too Late

09 Friday Dec 2011

Posted by jennifer tanner in Posts

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

Any Soldier, care packages, military mail, sending holiday greetings to military

…Nine ladies dancing, eight maids a milking, seven swans a swimming, six geese a laying…five golden rings…four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

The clerks at the local Safeway occasionally comment on the contents of my shopping cart. Besides my groceries, I’ll load up on any buy-one-get-one-free special on Flaming Hot Cheetos, cookies, granola bars, and beef jerky for the care packages I send to our military in Afghanistan.

Sandbags in lieu of wrapping paper. Thermal underwear, socks, Easy Mac, root beer, soy sauce, linens, coffeepots, hand warmers, hygiene items, dog toys, snivel gear (that’s military talk for gloves, hats and balaclavas), power inverters, camp showers, microwaves, a blow up doll (no, not that kind) are some of the things I’ve sent.

I’ve been sending packages since 2007. I’m on a first name basis with the clerks at the post office.

It’s not about politics. Or whether I support the war. I’m blessed in so many ways, fortunate that I live here. For me, it’s a way of giving back to the men and women who protect our country. I’m not alone in my opinion, but I realize there are those who would take exception to what this post is about.

Tis the season of giving, and it’s not too late to show your thanks.

The military mail system makes a herculean effort to get the mail to the remotest combat post in time for Christmas. Why? Because mail is a huge morale booster.

Last year, I sent boxes out nine days before Christmas and received an email from my contact that they’d received the goodies on Christmas Day.

You don’t have to spend a lot of money. You don’t have to send a package. You can stuff a padded envelope with packets of powdered hot chocolate or candy and enclose a note. You can send a card. Drawings and letters from kids are always in demand. Some units post the cards and drawings on their morale board.

The tree I sent. Love the garland.

Something as simple as a postcard will put a smile on a soldier’s face. I know this because I’ve received letters and emails from some of my contacts stating that the receipt of my package improved the morale of the entire squad. Funny, it did wonders for my morale, too.

Tonight, I packed a 20 pound box for a Marine unit in a remote part of Afghanistan. Lots of holiday goodies from Trader Joe’s. Sunflower seeds. Hot cocoa mix. Coffee. Travel mugs. A Slinky. Chattering teeth. Wind-up toys. DVD movies.

I don’t know these guys from Adam, and they don’t know me. I may never hear from them. But I know the contents of the box will put a smile on their faces. And that’s good enough.

I’m told that hearing one’s name at mail call is a huge rush. There are soldiers who never hear their name called during their entire deployment. That’s pretty sad.

The Any Soldier program was founded for that very reason. Military personnel who sign up for AS act as a liaison for the unit and distribute the contents of the packages.

But as many soldiers have said in the past, it’s not really about getting stuff. It’s knowing that someone took the time to mail a card or a package. That after ten years of war, they are not forgotten.  

When someone is far from home the holidays take on a new meaning. I hope you’ll think about sending a card.

www.anysoldier.com

Obtaining an address is free. You will need to register and provide your address. This is a preventative measure to keep the nut jobs from requesting addresses and sending hate mail to the troops. Yep, it happens all the time.

AS will not put your address on a mailing list nor will they send you any emails other than updates for your contact, which is at your discretion. Some contacts may wish to write or email you a note of thanks so you might want to include your email address. Domestic postage rates apply.

Questions? Feel free to email me. Thanks for reading!

This is post number nine of twelve days straight of blogging. Thank you for stopping by!

 

outre

Squabble Before We Gobble

21 Monday Nov 2011

Posted by jennifer tanner in Posts

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Any Soldier, care packages, Cup of Joe, family squabbles, holiday angst, holidays, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving traditions

Ah, the holidays! Family togetherness and family squabbles.

Gone are the days when I was relegated to the children’s table and my only responsibility was setting the table and making my bed before company arrived. Things have changed, partly due to a shift in family dynamics. My generation is now in charge of planning the family holiday dinners. We rotate between my house and my cousins’ places every year. Everyone brings something for the dinner, and inevitably, there are some hits and misses.

I believe you shouldn’t say anything about other people’s contributions. You should try a little of everything and keep your mouth shut to ensure holiday harmony. But some people can’t shut their pumpkin pie hole.

The “gravy incident” is a good example. My cousin had his gravy simmering on the stove. Aunt “B” decided his gravy was too thin and attempted to add a cornstarch slurry. Not a good thing.

  • 1. Because cornstarch leaves an icky, pasty aftertaste. A blend of softened butter with flour is much better.
  • 2. Because it’s not your house. Not your gravy. 

My cousin took exception to anyone messing with his gravy. As he should! Aunt “B” took exception because she is right. She is ALWAYS right. Thoroughly steamed, Aunt “B” let everyone know that she didn’t want to sit at the table with my cousin. And given her sour mood, no one wanted to sit next to her. My husband bemoaned the fact that two gravyless Thanksgivings followed the gravy incident.

Then there’s the “sticky rice” incident. Sticky rice is a short grain rice stuffing, a staple on our holiday table. It’s my mother’s schtick. She brings it every year. Well, a couple of years ago, my sister-in-law also brought sticky rice. Her sticky rice had more sausage in it. (And people liked it better.) My mother took great umbrage and now, before every holiday, I get the call. “Tell her not to bring her sticky rice. I’m making sticky rice.” And yeah, I get the major stink eye from mom because lo and behold, there’s another cauldron of sticky rice next to hers.

It’s not Top Chef! It’s Thanksgiving. Even the barely touched contributions get boxed up with all the other leftovers and taken home after dinner. Given my family’s sense of economy, nothing goes to waste.

Holidays are stressful. The planning, making sure the food stays hot until the last guest arrives, the hurt feelings because someone didn’t try the cranberry Jello mold.  

It’s not about the food. It’s about family and friends and being damn thankful for what you’ve got.

I hope there’s no squabble before you gobbble this Thanksgiving. Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

So, share…were there any “gravy incident” type incidents in your family’s holiday past?

Just a note…Many families with loved ones serving abroad will have one or more empty places at their holiday table this year. Please keep them in mind during the holidays.

Green Beans Coffee has outlets at most FOB (forward operating bases) in Iraq, Afghanistan and the Middle East. Let a serviceman or woman know you’re thinking of them by buying them a Cup of Joe. Your cost: two bucks.  

http://greenbeanscoffee.com/coj/index.php

No one wants to think about Christmas just yet, but please consider sending a holiday card (or a care package) to our military stationed in the war zone. The holidays take on a new meaning when a soldier, sailor or Marine is far from home. You can obtain an address from the following site: www.anysoldier.com

You have to register in order to get an address, but AnySoldier will not spam you or fill your in box with junk mail. And it’s free!

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