The Unimportant?

A bit about some of the people at war.

George Cooper slid quietly out of bed, tiptoed to the bathroom, closed the door, turned on the light and got dressed. When he was finished, he turned out the light, opened the door, stepped back into the bedroom...as he did so, the figure still in the bed stirred, turned over, mumbled something in German, lapsed back into sleep. George smiled fondly down at her, remembering for a moment the joy and pleasure of the night before...picked up his jacket, slipped out into the pre-dawn darkness.

Thirty minutes later, George arrived at his "office"...a large aircraft hanger. He went in, got some coffee, checked some paperwork, walked into the main hanger to "his" plane. After a close inspection of the aircraft, he removed an enigine cowling, got his tools and started his days work.

Three o'clock in the morning. Tom Stone knew it was three o'clock because his clock said so...he rolled out of the bed, dressed, headed to the kitchen. Tom ran on eighteen hour days...six hours at work, twelve hours for eating, sleeping, studying, or doing whatever he wished, and back to work...He would operate on this type of shift for six months. He got to the kitchen, started up the coffee, prepared to fix breakfast for the 120 people he worked with.

Tom had been doing this for two months now, and only had four more to go before he got a break from the routine. During that two months, he had not seen a sunrise, a sunset, a cloud, or in fact, the sky at all...

Sherry Mastowicz groaned her way out of bed, performed her morning ablutions, set off for the dock. Arriving there, she smiled at the people she met as she made her way to the ship. Boarding, she went down, found the coffee pot, filled a cup, worked her way back to the tight quarters that compromised her work area. Sitting at her desk, she put on her earphones, flipped a switch, twirled a dial, began to listen...

Jason Lycon set up the coffee pot, prepared the juice, laid out the sweet rolls and doughnuts. Finishing that, he turned, stood quietly looking at his counterpart across the room. Warily, they nodded at each other...and waited. Ten minutes later, a door to Jasons left opened, and in strode General Alexander, with several other people in tow. They came over, spoke polite good mornings to Jason, got coffee, juice and sweets. They then moved to the massive table in the middle of the room, spread out papers, prepared for the day...General Alexander glanced over at Jason, who immediately moved to the door and out of the building.

Tyler Jackson arrived at work early in the morning, and already he was hot and sweating. Loaded down with too much gear, especially for the local conditions, he would have been sweating in next to nothing...even though it was only seven in the morning. Putting aside his weapon and a good bit of his gear, he readied himself for work. He retained the armor he wore, as well as the helmet. Getting his tools, he began to work on the engine of a nearby truck.

George Cooper... U.S. Air Force, aircraft mechanic, Ramstein AB, Germany
Thomas Stone...U.S. Navy, cook, aboard a Nuclear Submarine below the Arctic Ice Cap
Sherry Mastowicz...U.S. Coast Guard, radio operator, aboard a Coast Guard Cutter, Virginia
Jason Lycon...U.S Army, aide, Panmunjong, Korea
Tyler Jackson...U.S. Marine Corps, mechanic, Fallujah, Iraq

Airmen, Sailors, Infantry...these people all share one common trait...they are American Soldiers. They don't shoot the guns, they don't fly the planes, they don't drive the tanks, they don't steer the ships. They are not the people the press runs to for reactions to stories. They are cooks, mechanics, gardeners, every day people doing every day jobs. They just do them in all different areas of the world, from the places of peace such as England or Germany, to any one of the three war zones we are currently engaged in. They range from scared, pimply teenagers to hardened, battle-scarred veterans.

So...what's the point? Well, when you watch the news, see the soldiers fighting house to house on a street in Iraq, please remember that for every soldier you see running around with a gun, there are dozens of people behind him, doing every day chores that help that soldier do his job. My son spent fifteen years in the Air Force. During that time, he was sent to both of the war zones in the Middle East six times, as well as Korea. He ran a Service Club, helping the soldiers and airmen to relax...he was a cook, providing the fuel that kept the war machine going. He was a behind the scenes kind of guy...but he was a soldier, and damned proud of his work. And I was damned proud of him for doing it...

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

You are so right---a machine won't work without all is cogs, pullies and assorted inner workings. As a Navy aircraft mechanic, I was, like so many others, a cog in a wheel that enabled the machine to work. Pencil-pushers, cooks, medics --they all are essential and none are more or less important than the other. Thank you for this well-written, important observation.