Monica Schroeder guest blogs today and calls for books for a friend of hers in Iraq:

Dear Readers,

I have served our country in the United States Army for 5 years, I have not yet, had the pleasure of serving in the Middle East. My friends and family have served many times over, and over. My best friend, whom I have been friends with since Basic, is currently serving her country in Iraq. She doesn’t write to me about the RPGs or how dang cold it gets at night…she writes to me about how she misses our book discussions and how she has NOTHING to read over there besides mystery thriller stuff, and there is only some much of that a girl can take.

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is where I have been helping and applying my time. I have been raising a collection of signed awesomeness for my BFF as a surprise when she comes home, AND, I have been collecting books that more befit her reading taste to send over to her and some of her female colleagues who are in the same reading predicament. They enjoy romance, paranormal, urban fantasy, young adult fiction, and anything really that lets them escape being stuck in the sand box for 5 whole minutes. That gift alone is priceless.

So, if you, as a fellow romance reader, would like to help you can email me at: mojo09226(AT)yahoo.com and we can discuss a means of getting books from you, donations for me to purchase books for them, or even if you just want to write them a note about you favorite romance book, I am sure they would love that. Its all about doing what you are able.

Thank you so much for your time! Also in honor of my work with deployed soldiers I was given some cash to giveaway an ereader or GC on my blog, check in out and enter to win if you would like, people who have helped with my collection get 20 additional entries.

Monica S.
Help Me Treat a Soldier to the Moment of her Life!!!

A SOLDIER’S CHRISTMAS

‘Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
in a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.

I had come down the chimney with presents to give,
and to see just who in this little house lived.

As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.

No Stockings by mantle, just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.

With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,
A sobering thought came through my mind.

For this house was different, it was dark and dreary,
The home of a soldier, I could now see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home.

The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder,
Not how I picture a United States Soldier.

Was this the hero of whom I’d just read?
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?

I realized the families that I saw this night,
owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.

Soon round the world, the children would play,
and grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.

They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
because of the soldiers, like the one lying here.

I couldn’t help wondering how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from home.

The very thought brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to one knee and started to cry.

The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,
“Santa don’t cry, for this life is my choice”.

I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more,
My life is my God, my country, my corps.”

The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep,
I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.

I kept watch for hours, so silent and still,
as we both shivered from the cold night’s chill.

I didn’t want to leave, on that cold, dark night,
this guardian of honor, so willing to fight.

Then the soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure,
whispered, “Carry on Santa…., It’s Christmas Day…., All is secure.

One look at my watch, and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend…. and to all a Good Night.

~ Author Unknown *~

Ask any military family, and they’ll tell you about missed holidays. The first time I decided not to travel home for Christmas after joining the army, my family didn’t know what to do. I’d opted to stay in Germany that year and travel around Europe with my then boyfriend (now my husband) and my future sister in law.

Since that first Christmas, there have been others where I stayed in Texas or Korea or went skiing, but since I’ve had kids, the last five Christmas Days have been memorable, either because of being with the kids or being without them. In 2004, I was a new mom, alone with a colicy baby and a husband who’d gone back to Iraq a few short weeks prior. At 4 am, the baby was awake, so I fed her, then opened presents for her with the dogs to keep us both company.
2005, mommy and daddy were both home and we stayed in Texas, hanging around the house and relaxing.

2006, I was alone again, this time, with a 2 month old and my then 2 year old. Daddy was back in Iraq, so what did Mommy do? We traveled to Maine to spend Christmas with my family. That was the first time my daughter was old enough to remember playing with my neice and they were only 3 days apart in age. They’ve been close since, especially this year, when they went to kindergarten together.

In 2007, we were all back together in Texas once more, but I had to head back to officer training in Georgia shortly after wards.

2008 was probably my worst Christmas. I’ve always been there. Me and the kiddos. Last year, though, was my first one away from my kids and it hit me, hard. There was a sad little tree outside our CHU (containerized housing unit) and someone had hung a few sad little decorations on it. It was as though in the middle of that crappy base, someone was determined to remember what day it was and why it was important.

But to me, diving into work and forgetting about everything at home was the way I coped. I misted up every time someone said Merry Christmas. I didn’t want to see the decorations. I didn’t want to pretend like the holiday mattered to me because without my kids, it didn’t. I know that’s not what Christmas truly is about, but for me, the real pain of missing my children was nothing compared to any notions of the reason for the season.

It hurt. A lot.

So this year, as my husband and I sneak out after the kids go to bed in order to play Santa and Mrs. Claus, I remember what last year was like and what this year is like for hundreds of thousands of families who’s loved ones are deployed during Christmas. And when I find myself getting frustrated with the crowds and the traffic, I remember what last year was like, when there were no crowds and there was no Christmas shopping.

And this year, when I’m hugging my kids and seeing their faces light up and get to hear my daughter singing in the Christmas Eve Mass, I’m going to take a deep breath and remember how lucky and how blessed I truly am. Because this year, more than most, means a lot to me.

I am home and I am grateful.

When I was in the Army we used to say (and I’m sure they still do lol), the best post was the one you just came from, or the one you were on your way to. It was never where you were. Perhaps that was just a self-defense mechanism in a culture that does a lot of moving around. Maybe it was a sign of a more deeply rooted apathy. I wouldn’t care to guess.

I came down here to southern Alabama when I finished training. To say I experienced culture shock would be a huge understatement. I couldn’t wait to move on. It never happened. By the time I got out, I was married and my husband had reenlisted to stay put.

I realized I better learn to love where I was because I wasn’t going anywhere soon. And gradually, I did. I have good friends here, it never snows, and my kids have never switched schools (except for moving up to middle school).  There’s a lot to love there.

Last year I decided it was time to apply this lesson to my writing. It used to go something like this. I’d start a book totally in love with it, but by the middle, I hated it. The last book was better. The next book will be incredible. This book? This book sucks. And that made me as miserable as the first two years I spent here wanting to be somewhere, anywhere, else.

Now when that little negative voice starts up, I step back and take a deep breath.  I find something I still love about it. A character, a scene. It doesn’t matter what as long as it’s enough to make finishing the middle less of a chore. And by the end, I love it again.

Just as I (mostly) love the place the Army transplanted me to.  Who knew those lessons would come in so handy in the rest of my life?

I’m tired of cops, FBI agents and special ops heroes getting all the fun jobs in novels. I mean, how much effort does it take to make one of these career fields sexy, dangerous and appealing? None. Today I start on my campaign to make other military career fields prime for heroic action! Let’s start with public affairs.

I’ve been in public affairs for 25 years. I know special ops career fields tend to be a favorite of authors, but really, what do those guys do? Rescue a few people? Secret squirrel stuff we never hear about? But in PA, our affairs are all public. Seriously public, but in a funny way.

When I was a young 23-year-old Air Force second lieutenant, I got my first hint of what this career would be like. I had to write a fact sheet on a space mission that was to fly on the first polar shuttle launch from Vandenberg Air Force Base, Calif. (This isn’t secret squirrel stuff. It never happened because Challenger blew up into a billion tiny pieces and NASA needed to focus on getting the shuttle back in the air.) I opened Aviation Week and Space Technology and read an article they’d written on the program, which was called Teal Ruby. With help from the program office, I crafted a brilliant, two-page fact sheet on this stationary system that would sit in the shuttle’s bay and monitor the aurora borealis, among other things. Then I got approval from the project office, and sent the information off for security review from our higher headquarters.

The fact sheet came back classified.

That’s when I learned many engineers call my magazine source for information Aviation Leak and Spy Technology. Oh, and that you shouldn’t believe everything in print. Give me a break! I was 23.

I write romantic suspense, and I admit, I like to leave a few bodies lying around in my novels. Not serial killer type, I can’t think like that. More, how the he** did that happen? This may have been influenced during a court-martial for the death penalty in Britain. A technical sergeant had stabbed a master sergeant several times over the senior ranking man’s flirtation with the other man’s wife. For those internationally savvy folks out there, the U.K. doesn’t have the death penalty, so the media were all over us. And as the ranking PA officer on base (by now I was a first lieutenant), it was my job to keep things orderly.

The court room sat 12 audience members, outside the legal teams, the judge and the jury. No room for reporters, so we’d take them into the courtroom before and after sessions and let them film it empty. I took a television crew in one day and the sound man picked up a photo off the prosecutor’s desk to do a camera lighting check. The white on the back of the photo was perfect for this task. But as he held up the photo, I saw what was on the other side: the bloody body of the master sergeant.

“Please don’t turn the photo over,” I tried to say as off-handedly as possible. “If you do, I’ll have to confiscate your film.” The sound man raised his eyebrows when he saw the photo and fortunately did not turn the picture over. I haven’t a clue how to confiscate film. But I imagine it would involve calling in armed security forces and really big headlines in the news.

Then there was the time I was offered black market goods in Moscow. Operation PROVIDE HOPE was public relations move to get European nations to help send food and medicine to agencies that lost their government support when the Soviet Union broke up. We PA folks were supposed to be taking media on flights with our humanitarian cargo. My AP reporter backed out on me while we were on a stop in Moscow, on our way to Ulan Ude, Siberia. In February. It was snowing in Moscow and as I turned around from the pay phone I’d just used, a man approached me, his hand holding his coat closed. He said in English as he opened his coat, “Would you like to buy a ham?”

Yes. In a large pocket inside his coat was the highly coveted canned ham of Moscow. I fought off laughing, even as I realized how desperate things must have been there at the time.

The life of public affairs officer is filled with unique experiences that many special ops men would question participating in. I fought off dozens of international media when the Yugoslavs got lucky and took out an F-117 stealth fighter jet during the Kosovo war. It was my job to keep the information out of the news while those search and rescue guys (yes, special ops) did their job of rescuing the pilot. For six hours we answered, “I have no information I can give you on that.” (That’s secret PA code for “I have information on that, but I can’t give it to you.” Not a lie, but also not what the media wants to hear.) More recently, it was reporters trying to find out information after CNN reported a C-17 cargo jet had crashed in Texas. It hadn’t, and it takes a while to find the whereabouts of nearly 200 planes to make sure we weren’t missing one.

There’s also the time the water in India attacked me. Believe me, when the flight surgeon says don’t drink the water, don’t even brush your teeth in it! I’d like to see anyone do their job horizontal on KC-10 flying over the Burma Hump. (Okay, so even PA can’t work with dysentery.) And then there was the community group we took to Berlin to see U.S. operations there. Five hours after we left, the Berlin Wall came down. We’re good. Real good.

I’d like to see those special ops guys do that. Or better: let’s make them talk to a reporter. You know, that secret squirrel stuff makes it hard for them to answer questions. Yes, that’s right. You would need a public affairs trained professional to do that.

I recently retired from the Army National Guard. This is going to be a boring post that has nothing to do with romance but everything to do with the National Guard and what it is and how we’re different from all the rest of the Armed Forces. I like to educate—I can’t help it.

The National Guard has been around since 1609–way before the actual country we defend. We are the Massachusetts Minutemen, the “well-regulated militia” that has the right to bear arms in the Constitution. When we swear the oath of enlistment or commission, we agree to obey the orders not only of the President (the office, not the person), but also of the Governor of the state to which we enlist/commission. Because the National Guard are the State Militias, it is only the National Guard that has the legal right to perform military operations inside the borders of the United States, and only at the behest of the Governor. So I wasn’t in the National Guard; I was in the North Carolina National Guard (and the Michigan Guard before that).

So any natural or man-made emergencies that need increased security or…well, well-regulated manpower, the Governors mobilize their National Guards: obviously, security after 9/11, but also ice storms, snow storms, hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, earthquakes, SuperBowl security, Olympic security, crowd control. All (most of?) the security during the Civil Rights movement: National Guard.

But then, we can also, of course, be mobilized by the President as part of the Federal forces. At that point, we’re actually Federalized and no longer under control of the State apparatus at all. Most of the National Guard who responded to Hurricane Katrina was actually Federalized for the duration, because we were operating outside our own jurisdiction. So when I went from Greensboro, NC, to Hammond, LA, the Federal government paid my way (and I got a nice free trip on a C-130!).

But we train with the other Armed Forces. I went to Army Basic Training at Fort Jackson, SC. But I did Officer Candidate School through the National Guard (that’s also in the Constitution—Article I, Section 8: “To provide for organizing, arming, and disciplining the Militia, and for governing such Part of them as may be employed in the Service of the United States, reserving to the States respectively, the Appointment of the Officers, and the Authority of training the Militia according to the discipline prescribed by Congress.” But after OCS was over, I went to Officer Basic Course with Regular Army Second Lieutenants (the actual job I did was a Chemical Officer. OCS taught me how to lead, Chemical OBC taught me what to tell my soldiers to do).

And we’re different from the Reserves, because the Reserves are the Federal-only forces who train one weekend a month, two weeks in the summer like the National Guard, but report only to the President, not to the Governor. Which makes moving when in the Reserves not nearly as difficult as inter-state transfers in the National Guard.

And of course, there’s the Army National Guard and the Air National Guard, the Air Force wing of the Guard. I was in the Army National Guard. No rivalry there…no!

So, a down-and-dirty introduction to the National Guard. Hope you enjoyed it.

I haven’t looked very hard, but I know of only one author who has written about a National Guard soldier: Virginia Kantra’s Sea Witch has a National Guard hero. Can anyone out there tell me of any more?

Hi everyone

I’m thrilled to be blogging here with Jessica today and so glad to welcome her home from Iraq. I’m also a woman on a mission.

First, I want to wish you all Merry Christmas and happy holidays and to thank you all for being such loyal readers and spreading the word about my books! So Merry Christmas!! And thanks! You all are the best and I hope this coming year brings all things wonderful and good your way!

My second reason is just as heartfelt and very important. I want to remind you all that we sleep in peace on the home front at night due to the brave and valiant efforts of our military who defend our freedom against terrorism every day.

That said, I want to call your attention to the plight of the 3 Navy SEALS who will soon be on trial for doing their job and defending our country during the capture of a known terrorist Ahmed Hashim Abed.

Abed is the accused brains behind the grisly ambush of four U.S. contractors in Fallujah in 2004. The contractors were protecting a convoy when they were attacked by Iraqi insurgents. Their bodies were burned inside their vehicle, dragged through the streets by a chanting mob, then hanged from a Euphrates River bridge. The cruel episode was photographed and posted online as a warning to the Big Bad West.

Abed has cried foul, accusing the SEALS of abuse during his capture. The trumped-up charges against them range from dereliction of duty, making a false official statement, hitting a detainee, and lying to investigators.

Subsequently, on December 7th, two of the SEALs were arraigned in military court: Petty Officer 2nd Class Matthew McCabe, 24 and Petty Officer 1st class Julio Huertas, 28. The arraignment for Petty Officer 2nd class Jonathan Keefe, 25, has not yet been scheduled. All three SEALS were offered a simple reprimand if they admitted wrongdoing, but they rejected it, placing their faith and careers on exoneration at trial. If convicted, however, they face loss of rank, up to a year’s confinement and partial forfeiture of pay, and a bad conduct discharge.

The SEALS have received an outpouring of public support on the Internet, and a California congressman has led a campaign urging Defense Secretary Robert Gates to intervene. Dozens of protesters, including the mother of one of the slain contractors, stood outside the Norfolk Naval Station gate Monday morning, Dec 7, during their arraignment, holding signs of support.

One SEAL said he was gratified by support from the public and some of the members of congress who have been leading a campaign urging Defense Secretary Robert Gates to intervene.

“He’s been a hero — two tours of Iraq and one tour of Afghanistan — and now this is the thanks he gets,” Huertas’ civilian attorney, Monica Lombardi, told reporters after the arraignment.

I happen to agree. They are all heroes. I have written my Congressman and Senators about this deplorable situation. I’m urging you to do the same. I love my country. I’m proud to be an American but I take passionate issue with the way our government is handling of this situation.

Let’s all show these brave men that we support them. You can find your legislator’s addresses by simply googling their names then going to their web page and contacting them there.

Here’s my letter for reference. Feel free to use it as a guide and let your legislators know that you feel the same way!

Dear Senator Grassley:
My purpose for writing is to offer my support for the 3 Navy SEALS, Petty Officer 2nd Class Matthew McCabe, Petty Officer 1st class Julio Huertas, and Petty Officer 2nd class Jonathan Keefe, who will soon be on trial for actions related to the capture of alleged terrorist, Ahmed Hashim Abed, the accused brains behind the grisly ambush of four U.S. contractors in Fallujah in 2004.
How sad it is that these heroes are being held accountable for actions they took in defense of our country and our freedom. If you have any influence at all over this travesty of a military trial, I urge you to intervene and request that all charges be dropped immediately.

Thank you for taking the time to listen to my request and for all the work you do representing our interests.
Sincerely
Cindy Gerard

There you have it. I sincerely hope you will be able to find the time to speak out on behalf of these heroes!
Thanks!!! Have a wonderful year!

Best,
Cindy

I’ve deliberately stepped into the public light by blogging from Iraq this year. I’ve been cautioned by well meaning friends to watch what I say in a public forum, because, well, it’s a public forum. And before I’ve hit send/publish, I’ve always tried to sit back and think, what would my brigade commander think if he read this about one of his officers.

That, in and of itself, has been enough to keep me relatively sane, I think. I’ve made some mistakes this year and I’m sure that no author can go through their publishing career in these days and not make a mistake online that will haunt them forever. When it becomes standard practice for commanders to ‘interview’ prospective officers by Googling them to see if there are any keg stand photos out there, you’ll understand my caution is not just for writers alone.

However, over on Amazon this week has been an object lesson in authors truly behaving badly. I don’t know this author, but I did see a couple of authors who’d public posts, on Twitter and on their own blogs, have been professional, insightful and full of great information. Two of these authors stopped by said train wreck and offered the advice to the self destructing writer that she might want to stay away from the keyboard for a while.

An energetic debate is always an enjoyment for me, but watching this thread develop over the course of the day, I couldn’t help but wonder if the author was drunk. Even if she was, the damage has been done. She did not offer much to the conversation about bad reviews and she blatantly attacked anyone who did not agree with her. She’s entitled to her opinion and at least she has the courage to jump into the fray rather than retreat, but I’m inclined to agree with the authors who recommended stepping away from the keyboard. She’s not gaining anything here except notoriety and I’m enough of a novice in the writing world to wonder just how much value there is in notoriety. I’m watching the thread for the learning experience of what it looks like when a public person goes on a rant and trying to take away some very important lessons.

I’m sure this debate is going down in the urban legends of popular literature.

I’m taking away one very important lesson: what you put online, stays online.

Send with caution.

Coffee Anyone?

One of my oddest memories of life in the Navy is discovering the true use of coffee. The First Class Petty Officer in my squadron’s department handed me fifty cents and asked me to go down to the coffee mess (the Navy version of a break room) and bring back plain black coffee. I thought this was odd, because he never drank coffee, but I got it, walked back carefully so as not to spill it, and handed it to him.

He nodded his thanks, and then splashed the contents across the floor.

With a smile, he gestured toward me and the other three airmen in our department. “Grab a mop,” he said, and headed out the door. My puzzlement must’ve been obvious because the others laughed and filled me in on the joke. The coffee in the squadron was strong enough to use as floor stripper. Believe it or not, it worked.

I didn’t drink coffee for about ten years. Even today, I prefer mine weak enough to add a slight taste to the water, and then I add a no-calorie sweetener and plenty of creamer, chocolate preferably. With regular coffee, it doesn’t matter how much sugar, sweetener, or cream/creamer I add — I still don’t like it. Too bitter for me, even when freshly ground and brewed. But using about 1/4 the amount of coffee and the rest hot water is perfect.

Life in the military taught me how to improvise and use whatever was handy to get the job done. I’ll bet most of the readers here could say the same thing, whether it’s in the military or civilian life. We had a saying tacked up on the wall in the department spaces and it still fits me today.

 ”I have now done so much with so little for so long that I am able to do absolutely anything with absolutely nothing.”  

Hello, my name is Jambrea and the summer before my senior year in high school, my older sister joined the Air Force. It was in the back of my mind to join too, but I didn’t want to feel like I was doing it just because she was. So I finished high school and went on to college for a year. It wasn’t for me.It took leaving

Indiana for California and coming home again for me to decide I wanted to go into the military. Now most people didn’t think I could do it. Heck, I wasn’t even sure if I could, but I wanted to try. In May of 1997 I enlisted.

When I got to basic training, I was weight listed (overweight by the military scales) so I had one more thing to struggle with. The worry was always there that I wouldn’t be able to lose the couple pounds. Most people who knew me would not believe that I enjoyed basic training. I was worried about the yelling, afraid I would cry, but it didn’t happen. I did hear a lot of “Your other left foot, Jones!” during marching. lol I’ve always been directionally challenged.

One of my proudest moments was when my mom showed up for graduation and watched me march in formation. Basic flew by. Of course, back then it was only 6 weeks long. I’m pretty sure it’s 12 weeks now.

The next step was tech school. I went in as a computer operator and really found myself. I was confident for the first time and not as shy as I would normally be. I actually became the Red Rope, leading the Yellow Ropes, Green Ropes and rest of the squad. Never in a million years would I have attempted something like this before the military. It gave me a piece of myself that could shine.

I was excited for tech school to be over so I could go to my first duty station. I anxiously awaited news of where I would be stationed. My sister had been stationed in England her first assignment, I was hoping for something just as fun. I got…Offutt Air Force Base, NE. lol When I got there, it wasn’t much different from Indiana. Plus, they put me in as a base operator. I answered the phones. Not very glamorous, but I really enjoyed it. The people I met were great.

I was only in the Air Force for two years. I developed asthma as was medically discharged. I still miss it. It was one of the best times in my life.

So, what was I to do next? I ended up getting married and having a child. Then it happened. The next stage of my life…writing. Reading had been a passion for a long time. I dabbled a bit with writing here and there until I found Yahoo Groups and ended up doing some reviewing. That led to writing. I now have my first military book with Liquid Silver Publishing. It’s in ebook form about a Marine and an NCIS Agent called Semper Fi: Magnus. I’m very proud of it and hope people enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Today, Dec. 11, 2009, a few authors from Liquid Silver are doing a blog tour. If you want to take a look, it starts here http://trinamlee.com/blog/ at 7am. There are prizes to be had if you want to follow along.

You can find me at a couple different places. I’m sure I’ll be here from time to time, but you can also find me at a couple blogs and a yahoo group. I’ll list those below. You can always email me at jambrea@jambrea.com

http://jambrea.wordpress.com/

http://internationalheat.wordpress.com/

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Heat_Wave_Readers/?yguid=80421025