These books were far outnumbered by titles that look like they came off the rack of bodice-rippers at the supermarket. I'd bet a lot of money that no soldier requested that Deborah MacGillivray's A Restless Knight, which sports a shirtless male model type on the cover, be flown here, and that no soldier will ever read it. I would guess that the obscure L. Ron Hubbard titles haven't gotten a lot of use either. So where do these books come from?
The answer, I suspect, is care packages. The yellow ribbon magnet on the SUV bumper is probably the most public way that Americans show their Support for Our Troops. Another, usually more useful one is care packages addressed to "Any soldier." (Web sites like AnySoldier.com and AdoptaPlatoon.org help people with the mechanics.) These packages are hit or miss.
Sometimes, a care package is perfect. Once -- I won't say where -- I watched a tentmate open up a box that contained a bottle of Skyy vodka, and the look on his face rivaled the boy's in A Christmas Story when he is finally united with his Red Ryder Carbine-Action Range Model Air Rifle. Of course, that came from a friend, not an anonymous patriot, but other, more licit luxuries can be just as welcome.
Why, though, would anyone send a big stack of AARP magazines to teenage and twenty-something soldiers in a war zone? Or a box full of Sensodyne prescription-strength toothpaste tubes? Or a powder blue "Hello Kitty" t-shirt? (All of these are things I've seen troops puzzle over in Iraq or Afghanistan. The lucky recipients of the AARP magazines were members of the 2-106 Cavalry Squadron last year in Helmand province.) Maybe not the same people who send those supermarket romances, but someone with a similarly well-calibrated sense of what deployed soldiers most miss.