Sack Lunches



I put my carry-on in the luggage compartment and sat down in my assigned seat. It was going to be a long flight. ‘I’m glad I have a good book to read and perhaps I will get a short nap,’ I thought.



Just before take-off, a line of soldiers came down the aisle and filled all the vacant seats, totally surrounding me. I decided to start a conversation. ‘Where are you headed?’ I asked the soldier seated nearest to me.



‘Petawawa. We’ll be there for two weeks for special training, and then we’re being deployed to Afghanistan.



After flying for about an hour, an announcement was made that sack lunches were available for five dollars. It would be several hours before we reached the east, and I quickly decided a lunch would help pass the time….



As I reached for my wallet, I overheard soldier ask his buddy if he planned to buy lunch. ’No, that seems like a lot of money for just a sack lunch. Probably wouldn’t be worth five bucks. I’ll wait till we get to base ’



His friend agreed.



I looked around at the other soldiers. None were buying lunch. I walked to the back of the plane and handed the flight attendant a fifty dollar bill. ’Take a lunch to all those soldiers.’ She grabbed my arms and squeezed tightly. Her eyes wet with tears, she thanked me. ‘My son was a soldier in Iraq ; it’s almost like you are doing it for him.’



Picking up ten sacks, she headed up the aisle to where the soldiers were seated. She stopped at my seat and asked, ‘Which do you like best - beef or chicken?’



‘Chicken,’ I replied, wondering why she asked. She turned and went to the front of plane, returning a minute later with a dinner plate from first class. ‘This is yours with thanks.’



After we finished eating, I went again to the back of the plane, heading for the rest room. A man stopped me. ‘I saw what you did. I want to be part of it. Here, take this.’ He handed me twenty-five dollars.



Soon after I returned to my seat, I saw the Aircraft Pilot coming down the aisle, looking at the aisle numbers as he walked, I hoped he was not looking for me, but noticed he was looking at the numbers only on my side of the plane. When he got to my row he stopped, smiled, held out his hand, an said, ‘I want to shake your hand.’



Quickly unfastening my seatbelt I stood and took the Captain’s hand. With a booming voice he said, ‘I was a soldier and I was a military pilot. Once, someone bought me a lunch. It was an act of kindness I never forgot.’ I was embarrassed when applause was heard from all of the passengers.



Later I walked to the front of the plane so I could stretch my legs. A man who was seated about six rows in front of me reached out his hand, wanting to shake mine. He left another twenty-five dollars in my palm.



When we landed I gathered my belongings and started to deplane. Waiting just inside the airplane door was a man who stopped me, put something in my shirt pocket, turned, and walked away without saying a word. Another twenty-five dollars!



Upon entering the terminal, I saw the soldiers gathering for their trip to the base. I walked over to them and handed them seventy-five dollars. ‘It will take you some time to reach the base. It will be about time for a sandwich. God Bless You.’



Ten young men left that flight feeling the love and respect of their fellow travelers. As I walked briskly to my car, I whispered a prayer for their safe return. These soldiers were giving their all for our country. I could only give them a couple of meals.



It seemed so little…



A veteran is someone who, at one point in his life, wrote a blank check made payable to his country for an amount of ’up to and including my life.’



That is Honor, and there are way too many people who no longer understand it.



May God give you the strength and courage to pass this along to everyone on your email buddy list…. I just did that and it feels GOOD!!!

“God’s presence with us, is his greatest present to us”

“Don’t let your mind become cluttered with worry. It leaves less room for the good stuff.”

“A life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful than a life spent doing nothing.”

“Successful people don’t plan results, they plan beginnings. Right results always follow right beginnings.”

“It is not a mistake if we cannot read the eyes that cheat us. But it is indeed a big mistake if we cannot read the eyes that care for us.”

Time difference and travel exigencies wake me up before it is time to wake up ! Ha ! I talked of real time, in a real world, existing and present. But the aforementioned words just spilled out without reason or intent and begin to sound prophetic - ‘wake up before its time to wake up’. Hmm ! Worth pondering over.

So.. I wake up before it is time and pull across the mobile and the laptop and the daily news papers if they have been placed outside the door in neatly designed holders, and put down some expressions from those that have hacked my mobile and relentlessly fill up the inbox with wisdom. Some wisdom comes on the email too and I deliberate it here on the post. Some wisdom comes from picking up a book, gifted generously to me by a thoughtful friend and I read through portions of it in amazement. Some of what I read, I share.

It is a book authored by an award -winning journalist who decided to break Fleet Street’s( the Wall Street of the print media) unwritten rule by investigating his own colleagues and found that the business of reporting the truth had been slowly subverted by the mass production of ignorance.

‘Finally’, says the author, ‘I was forced to admit that I work in a corrupted profession.’

His Prologue in the book was even more revealing.

‘Dog doesn’t eat dog’, he says. ’That’s always been the rule in Fleet Street. We dig into the world of politics and finance and sport and policing and entertainment. We dig wherever we like - but not in our own back garden. In the last fifteen years we have started running media pages, but the truth is they are primarily to attract advertisements; they don’t really put the spade in too deep.’

He then goes on to describe, how when working with a prominent paper, a fellow colleague was caught out badly when he filed a speculative description of a prominent and sensational execution, six hours before it actually happened. All would have been well with this imaginary story and its details would probably have gone unnoticed, had it not been for the unfortunate leaking of a video of the hanging. The journalist, with some courage, however, confessed all this on his blog. His openness, much to his dismay, did not go down well with his bosses. His entry in the blog was rapidly deleted and a message was sent out to all staff warning them to ‘think carefully before blogging about journalistic tricks of the trade’ !

So.. there !! ‘Imaginary material is nothing worse than a “trick of the trade”; and we’ll have no real reporting about reporting’ says the author.

He goes on to say that -

‘Over the years which I then spent running around with a note-book in my pocket, of course I came to see that frequently we fail to tell the truth. The unavoidable reality of journalism is that all of our work is tethered by a deadline and we can never be free to roam as far we want in search of the evidence we need. On the best of days, everything we write is compromised by error. And, of course, I knew, too, that from time to time there was some seriously dodgy behavior going on behind the headlines.’

And more -

‘…I had no idea of just how weakened we had become, just how prone we now are to fail to tell the truth. I’m not talking about journalists making mistakes. Mistakes can be honest. (And it is a very safe bet that there are mistakes in this book). I’m talking about the individual dishonest, hack scumbags who bring our whole profession into disrepute. There are still good, brave, honest people working in this industry. I’m talking about the fact that almost all journalists across the whole developed world now work within a kind of professional cage which distorts their work and crushes their spirit. I’m talking about the fact that finally I was forced to admit that I work in a corrupted profession.’

In conclusion he says -

‘I should add that a great many working journalists helped me on this project. They did so willingly, because like me they can see no good reason why journalism should be exempt from the kind of scrutiny which we bring to bear on the rest of the world. For reasons of professional survival, most of them did so on the understanding that I would not name them. But they are there and, to the extent that this book may attract the hostility of some in Fleet Street, I am proud of the fact that numerous colleagues are better than that.’

‘So. Let dog eat dog.’

There has been vile criticism on my account, cynical and vicious accusations; unsubstantiated and proclaimed with a finality, that has never entertained even the minutest breach. Those that abhor me and fill me with their hatred do so on the perception built by the fourth estate, or what they perceive of me through my deeds. Fair enough. I get wrapped on the knuckles by extended family and not so extended family repeatedly, for my obsessiveness. But here today I have provided, not out of any deliberate desire of justification, thoughts,that have been expressed by the accused himself.

And I… dearest ones, shall hold any further comment.

The morning beckons. It approaches 6:35 am on the Greenwich Mean Time. I shudder to part the curtains for fear of witnessing yet another grey and dreary sky. The temperatures predicted are forecasted into the minuses. I must venture out. To the gym. To some mobility. To some elements to be picked up for the wife from Boots. To browse among book stores and those that offer music. To sit perhaps alone in the cozy warmth of a coffee scented wayside, clothed adequately from the cold. And yes.. to breathe !!

Akshay, of Akshay Kumar, of Singh is Kingh of Chandni Chowk to China, of father to delightful little Aarav, Aarav, that moves with the constant expressive smile that conveys, he has just committed some serious mischief, that Akshay, has called at 5:30 am ! He is in Toronto at 2:30 am !!

‘CCTC is premiering at London, Leicester Square on the 12th, tomorrow night, shall be honored if you could come and join us.’

I tell him I shall.

‘Delighted Sir ! Just don’t bring your brains and thinking cap along !!’, he ends. I give him assurance.

I have written earlier than expected. There may be more than expected later.

My love and care and more…