Easing tensions

October 10, 2004

Let the games begin.

We were warned that if we didn’t come up with 100 “unmarked pennies” by today, we’d never see our paper box alive again.

Our paper box — the plastic yellow box people hang under their mailboxes for paper delivery — is being held hostage.

For the last three months the box stood sentry in front of our trailer at Camp Taji. It proudly said “Arkansas Democrat-Gazette Taji Bureau.”

It was our guidon.

And three days ago it disappeared, wooden stand and all.

Two days ago we got a note, made of pieced together words cut from a newspaper.

It said, “Amy, This is real. I will send Chechen suicide bombers from China.”

Chechen fighters from China?

I imagine those are pretty rare.

I laughed until my belly was sore.

Yesterday, we received a ransom note and picture from a group calling themselves the “He Man Paper Haters Club.”

It was shocking.

There was our box and post, laid on a stretcher and plugged up to an IV. A bandage that appeared to be bloodied was wrapped around the box.

It had clearly been beaten.

The note demanded 100 unmarked pennies be turned over to a battalion staff member by today or the box would get it.

“Otherwise,” the note read, “I will be forced to send small dismembered pieces of wood as proof of my resolve in this matter.”

Further, the note said, “Your mailbox attempted to resist my forces, but he was no match for my superior tactics.”

Careful study of the picture gave clues to the location. The cabinet in the background is distinctly that of the aid station at Fort Apache.

I love a good riddle. I love a good mystery even more.

We promptly responded to the letter.

“I am proud to know the box resisted your evil forces as they captured it. I only wish it had been stronger. This country needs more reliable cement,” I wrote. “You have stolen the guidon of the Taji Bureau and that will not be forgotten ... And, even more importantly, do you know how hard it is to find pennies in this country?”

Iraq does not have coinage.

Even the PX, the store at Camp Taji, doesn’t deal in coins. We get paper tokens for change.

There isn’t a penny to be had here.

But that doesn’t really matter. We wouldn’t pay it anyway.

Why end the game so soon since it’s entertaining and breeds laughter?

And at a time like this, jokes are worth much more than a good laugh.

What I call the "mid-deployment reds" have hit. Soldiers are getting into a few more scraps, fighting amongst themselves as the days stretch on toward the day they go home. There are a few more trips to the aid station for minor problems, a lot more complaining and people are feeling tired.

We’re just over the hump, more than halfway through the tour and things are getting wacky.

Well, 3rd Battalion found a way to battle the mid-tour reds with good old-fashioned humor.

Shaving cream on doors, caps run under the faucet and frozen, fly strips in boots, coffee cups glued to the floor, you name it, it’s happening around here.

I have to say the newspaper box caper is a classic.

We’ve launched a full-blown investigation and narrowed down a list of suspects. One thing we haven’t done is hunt for pennies.

Why cause the game to come to a close so soon? It’s entertaining and is a great way to blow off steam.

A good practical joke like this one also makes you think, or as one of the prime suspects puts it, “It adds a new wrinkle to your brain.”

We may get the box back piece by piece over the next few months.

And I’ll laugh till my belly hurts every time a piece arrives.

Posted by Amy at October 10, 2004 03:56 PM