During the Vietnam War, the “Donut Dollies” were young American women volunteers with the Red Cross who traveled thousands of miles to bring a slice of home to American troops.

They organized games, quizzes, and conversations, strummed guitars, and offered smiles and cheer to boost morale. The Dollies ventured into dangerous zones, often under fire, to remind soldiers of the world back home. Tragically, three lost their lives.

The Donut Dollies tradition dates back to World War II, where Red Cross women operated clubmobiles, mobile kitchens on trucks to serve fresh donuts, coffee, and entertainment to troops in rear areas.

In the Korean War, they ramped up efforts, producing up to 20,000 donuts a day for arriving soldiers in Pusan.

God Bless these women for volunteering their time to bring a slice home to our service members.

It’s been mentioned that Donut Dollies charged a nickel for coffee and donuts to US soldiers in WWII. True, but there’s more to the story.

It was a morale thing. Donuts and coffee were free to US soldiers. Because the British and other countries charged for these items, their soldiers complained so much that it caused a morale problem for the allies.

The Secretary of War ordered nickel for coffee and donuts. The Red Cross resisted but then charged.
In combat areas, soldiers didn’t carry around pockets full of nickels. Some accounts mention soldiers using “chits” (small tokens or scrip purchased earlier with cash).

In true frontline or isolated visits, Dollies frequently gave out donuts and coffee for free anyway.

The small fee was symbolic and not a moneymaker, but it caused decades of veteran resentment toward the Red Cross, even though it wasn’t their idea. Some Dollies carried a roll of nickels to “repay” complaining vets years later.

For Korea and Nam, it went back to being free. If you want to blame someone, blame crying British, Australian, and other Allied troops, not the Donut Dollies.

I love resurrecting this from time to time, with slight modifications. First, it has an important message; second, it’s a cute picture of me.

So many times, I’ve warned people about what they post on social media and always used a sample pic. Innocently taken pictures posted to social media sometimes come back to haunt you in a custody case.

That said, I found this picture of me when I was four. I have one of my dad’s cigars in my mouth, which is not good to do in today’s world. My fingers look a little close to the wall outlet, too. The bad thing is, I’ve smoked almost ever since, not good. Of course, I blame my parents as kids do. But I did quit about a few years ago, but that’s not important to this.

We didn’t call it Child Protective Services (CPS) back in those days, but be warned, had CPS, as it exists now, come out after someone reported this, think about it. It would have found we didn’t have heat except for the gas (the silent killer) stove in the living room, and sometimes, when it was freezing cold, my mom would light up the gas stove in the kitchen and leave it open in an attempt to bake me. No way to heat a roughly 700-square-foot home, that’s for sure.

Plus, when another child was born, I lost my bedroom, and my parents stuck me in a non-bedroom off the living room that felt like 34 degrees during the winter.

My shirt is buttoned to the top to choke me, and my pants were bought to fit two or three years, which meant I tripped over my pant legs in the beginning until they turned into flood pants. My pants went from a danger hazard to a showing of neglect. I don’t understand why my hair has a skunk look to it. And look how close my fingers are to the outlet-obviously, my parents were trying to electrocute me. No wonder at that age my hair was already turning white. Plus, I don’t think my shoes match, and the pants are ripped at the knees, creating a draft.

Yep, someone would have lost custody, or I would have ended up in a series of foster homes for sure. I lucked out. My parents were good, though not perfect. We couldn’t afford certain things, like heat. Well, we had heat; it just didn’t warm the house or my bedroom. Plus, what kid that age doesn’t smoke, right? The point is that innocent and cute things can get turned around.

Seriously, though, be careful about what you post. If you’re on the other side of a case, social media is the first place I will check you out.

There’s a statement, not an actual quote attributable to anyone, that goes, “They need martyrs to keep the socialist brainwashing alive, otherwise they’d have no native supporters fighting against their own best interests.”

In other words, socialism/communism is so contrary to people’s material/economic self-interest that few would accept it if approached rationally. The “brainwashing” part means supporters are conditioned through propaganda, education, media, or activism to ignore reality, and it creates victims. You need martyrs, the people who suffer death, jail, hardship as though they were on some kind of holy crusade. It’s an emotional appeal to keep the outrage going. The martyr takes on the role of hero, and there’s a reward, much like the 72 virgins for a suicide bomber.

The problem is that a fresh supply of martyrs is needed. If you run out, the emotional appeal stalls, recruitment slows or stops, and the movement collapses.

The reward is that the name will be remembered, but that’s as empty as the 72 virgins. There could be a GoFundMe-type payoff for the martyr’s survivors. But as more video came out, there’s been a pause or stop today in donations. It doesn’t seem worth it. A week from now, how many will remember the “martyr’s” name in Minneapolis?

Not to worry, another brainwashed martyr will come forward, and then another; then they will eventually stop.

Genesis makes two crucial declarations:

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.
God saw every thing he had made, and behold it was very good.

It is clear to me that we are only here because of God, and this truth is found in the two verses selected. Since I view God as the Creator of everything, including time, it doesn’t matter to me whether the “day” of creation is understood as a literal 24 hours or as an age, era, period, or epoch. We know God’s ways are different from our ways, so I’m choosing not to focus on that debate.

What matters is that our existence is intentional, purposeful, and brought forth by a Creator who calls His work “very good.” Again, we are only here because of God.