Corporal Anthony Schramm, like most of our brave soldiers on active duty, had Internet access while his National Guard unit was deployed in Iraq. A good thing, too—Iraq was just as dangerous and hot as everyone says, and entertainment was scarce during his eighteen-month tour. Receiving up to twenty emails a day was a great comfort, and surfing the web was a fine distraction, unprecedented in military history. Still, a soldier misses the creature comforts. For fun, Corporal Schramm started looking at personal ads on various dating web sites. One evening, when things were relatively quiet, he read an ad posted by a pretty girl who happened to be from his neck of the woods back in Minnesota. Having geography in common, but knowing he’d most likely never meet her face to face, he decided to write.
The young woman soon wrote back and readily took on the role of pen pal. Pictures were exchanged along with cordial pleasantries. An electronic discussion ensued over the next week, and Schramm was soon up to date on the weather, news, and other details from back home. Then, a few emails later, his new friend decided to take the pen-pal relationship to another level. She boldly sent Schramm a less-than-kosher video clip of herself “dancing” in her bedroom. Schramm was uncomfortable when he first saw the clip. He didn’t expect her to get quite that personal. But then, he was serving his country. Maybe she felt like it was her patriotic duty to give her correspondent a little motivation to get back home in one piece. Maybe she was crazy. It really didn’t matter to Schramm, though, because he most likely would never meet her face to face.
After viewing the performance a few more times, Schramm saw the humor in the situation. He popped a few bags of popcorn from his latest care package—his mother was good about regularly sending care packages—and invited the rest of his tent buddies to watch the clip. The guys all had a good laugh, a welcome break from the stresses of the war front. Schramm’s friend had successfully entertained the troops.
Months went by and Schramm lost contact with her, mainly because he had no idea what to say after seeing (and sharing) her video clip. After months of dodging snipers, enduring the extreme desert climate, helping to construct buildings for his camp, and performing his assigned communication duties, all the while being on alert at all times for an attack from the enemy, it was finally time for Schramm to take a much anticipated two-week leave.
When he got back to the U.S., he and a couple of buddies dropped their drab green duffel bags in his apartment in Rochester and headed to the Twin Cities. They stopped at the first bar they saw, and Schramm ordered an ice-cold beer. He took a long sip, put the bottle down, and nearly spilled the rest of it when he was abruptly hugged from behind. He turned around and found himself face to face with his risqué friend from the personals.
Stunned, Schramm quickly devised an exit strategy. He was tired, he said. Long flight from Baghdad, he said. After his narrow escape, he briefed his friends: There would be no further deployments to that particular bar.—Micki Bare
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