I want to thank each and every one of you for all the letters and packages! It has been such a joy to read about what’s going on back home! (I really liked the stories about dogs, I love dogs.) And the packages have been great too! You can rest assured that I am never hungry now! I have all the Raman Noodles and Beef Jerky a man could ever dream of!

I can’t express enough how grateful I am for these tokens of appreciation. I have never met any of you and we may never meet, but you still took time out of your schedules to write me letters and send things. I like hearing about what is going on in your lives because it takes my mind off this ugly place. When I would get your letters two things would happen: 1) I would feel grate because I knew people back home were thinking about me. 2) I would have a momentary reprieve from Afghanistan—when I read your letters I am taken back to that beautiful land of the free.

Speaking of beauty and freedom, I would like to take a moment to ask you to please be aware of how great it is to live in America. Where I am (Northern Afghanistan) the land is baren empty dirt. Well, not totally empty, there’s at least two mine fields within walking distance of the base. I can’t remember the last time I saw a tree, or grass. This place will never rise up because the people are full of hate…or indifference. They have a culture that is the exact opposite of ours. We live in a place that praises and holds high: hard work, love, personal & religious freedom, cultural & racial tolerance. Here in Afghanistan it is literally opposite–the man who kills his neighbor over a slight religious difference—this is the man who is respected. Schools are bombed, as well as polling stations. People over here kill and harass each other over slight differences in ethnicity to the point that they can’t stand up as a nation. Here I am working with Asians, blacks, women, Christians, atheists, New Yorkers, and Texans. Anyway, I’ve gone off on a tangent, but it was just to let you know, by comparison, how great the place we live is.

There I something else I want to say. I want to say that I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to write all of you back. I have had so many people write that it would be impossible for me to write every individual. Also, and I don’t want you to think that I’m complaining, but I work about 13 hours a day, every day. It’s not too bad, but when I do get off I am so tired that I can’t focus long enough to write!

Thank you for your overwhelming support and encouragement! I’ll keep working hard, all I ask is that you keep enjoying freedom and the pursuit of happiness!

Sincerely,

SPC James “Corby” Maupin

PS: It’s amazing to me the stark contrast between cultures of freedom/education and cultures of religious intolerance/purposeful ignorance. Example: 1500 to 2000 years ago Balk (the ruins of which are about ten miles from where I am) was the cultural, educational, literary and architectural epicenter of the entire Middle-east and Asia. Now that they have hate and ignorance they live in mud huts and have a literacy rate of less than 10%.

PPS: Please—to make this war worthwhile—continue to read, love, work hard, and be kind to your neighbors.

I had no Christmas spirit when I breathed a weary sigh,
and looked across my desk where the paperwork was piled up so high.
The reports weren’t finished and the training I had to fix,
My computer was down and the KC Chiefs had just lost by six.

Here I sit, looking like an incompetent fool,
I’d fix this thing if I only had the right tool.
The burdens that I carried were about all I could take,
thinking of my troops outside wondering wishing I could give them a break.

I look outside gazing upon a desert scene, in shades of tan and rust,
No snowflakes hung upon the wind, just clouds of swirling dust.
And where the reindeer should have stood before a laden sleigh,
MRAPS ran a column in front of ISAF Troops, marching on their way.

A group of troops walked past the tent, not one looked past their teens,
Their eyes were hard as polished flint, their faces drawn dusty and lean.
They climb the mountains in armor with their rifles shouldered tight,
their dearest wish for Christmas, “today I hope not to fight”.

Other soldiers gathered, hunkered down against the wind,
They gather pieces of mail and dreams and exchange each others find.
Yet, for some there wasn’t much at all to put their lonely hearts at ease,
They had no Christmas turkey, just a packet of MRE’s.

They didn’t have a garland or a stocking for anyone to see,
They didn’t need an ornament because they lacked a Christmas Tree.
They didn’t have a present even though it was tradition,
on their backs they carried, long belts of ammunition.

I felt a friendly nudge along my right side,
The major asked me what it was I feared or tried to hide?
I saluted him with pride as he stood so near
and exclaimed in a voice for everyone to hear.

There’s nothing to fear, my uniformed Brother, our Nations sleep well tonight,
My hero troops stand in sand and rock to give all mankind their right.
Don’t worry about the things in life that really mean nothing at all,
Instead, I am hopeful this day, that not one more of our Warriors has to fall.
I am tormented by the thought of the troops I send out is wrong or right,
The life force inside this aged body feels a compelling urge to write.
And so I pushed aside my tasking orders and sit to draft a note,
to thank the many so very far from home; and this is what I wrote,

God bless you all for the gift of liberty you each provide,
The ultimate sacrifices are like an unhealing wound, buried deep within my mortal side,
The freedoms you give us; we simply can’t repay.
Me and my family are thankful, each and every day.
Merry Christmas Warriors,
Another Afghan Christmas, the year is 2010.

SHADY

Helen your poem is beautiful. Well done.

Here is a link to the different shipping deadlines on the Post Office’s website. http://www.usps.com/holiday/shippingcalendar.htm?from=home_ftpromo&page=Holiday2010SeeShippingDeadlines