Abdullah Igram was stationed in New Guinea while he was in the military during the second world war. When asked what to engrave in his personnel dog tag for religious affiliation (P for Protestant, J for Jewish, or C for Catholic) he insisted for an M for Muslim. Since the makers didn’t have the technology to create a custom engraving for that part, they just left it blank.

After he safely went back to Iowa after the war, he sent a letter to President Eisenhower persuading him to add the M option on military dog tags. And soon enough he received a reply from the President’s secretary thanking him for the suggestion which was actually implemented. You can find out more about him and his works through this article.

But that was during the second world war. Now you can buy custom engraved dog tags. You can even put pictures and images in it. Even if you’re not in the military. To order your custom engraved dog tags please check our Military Dog Tags section. If you’re not into military related stuff you can also check our Main Dog Tags section which includes dog tag design from other categories.

These illustrations is what I am talking about.

These cartoons are for the dog tag people. All military Dog Tags are engraved and packaged as gifts.

Military  dog tags are engraved and packaged as nice gifts.

I need a space program. Before you ask, I’m not an astronaut wanna be or rocket
scientist. In fact, I’m not anything like that. I’m just a girl, a master’s student, and
educator. But I need a space program. America needs a space program. Now let me tell
you why.

Yesterday, ATK, a premier aerospace company, test fired their latest invention: a new
rocket slated to be used in the Ares I, NASA’s up and coming manned space flight
vehicle. I can tell you it was a big event. There were all kinds of press and dignitaries
from all over the state and from NASA. There were ATK employees and their families,
school aged kids on fieldtrips, and a few curious neighbors all standing together in the
middle of the afternoon in the middle of a desert to watch this rocket. The event was
broadcasted live across NASA TV so those who couldn’t be there in person could still
pause in the middle of a Thursday afternoon and watch a mountain of smoke and fire
burn for a couple of minutes.

I couldn’t be there. But I jumped online around 12:45 to watch the show. My computer
wasn’t working properly, so I ran around in panic for the next 15 minutes trying to get it
working, my mother and her classroom full of 3rd graders on the phone with me
describing every tick of the countdown clock. It sounded something like this: “OK.
Where are we? 90 seconds! It’s going to fire in 90 seconds. But wait do you remember
what happened last time when the clock got to 20 seconds? Right the clock stopped and
the rocket couldn’t fire because one little piece didn’t work right. Where are we now? 30
seconds…20 seconds…still going…10 seconds…5, 4, 3, 2, 1….Wow there is goes! Look
at the fire! And the smoke! Mikaylie, I bet if you go outside you could see the smoke.”
I did run outside. Sadly, I saw nothing. But I didn’t expect too. That rocket was at least
two mountain ranges away. Regardless, looking over the mountains at a clear blue sky, I
still felt proud, perhaps coupled with a tinge of loss, but proud none the less.

Now, before you write me off as a geek or nerd, I probably should confess to something.
I used to work at ATK. You might think that colors my story, but I promise what I wrote
was true. I am nobody in rocket science. I worked at ATK for 3 months as an intern in
their training department. I designed training packages, none of which had anything to do
with rockets really, and if they did, I can assure you I had know idea what was going on.
But I did learn a few things while I was working there. I’d say my greatest lesson came
on my last day. I cleaned out my desk, checked out through security, got in my car and
drove the hour home. But when I got home, I had no idea what to do with myself. I spent
the rest of the day sorting through old work papers, gathering up the posters and flight
patch stickers I had been given for my mother’s students, and I even sat melancholy
through Tom Hanks and Apollo 13. It was pathetic, but some of our most profound
lessons are learned at our most pathetic moments. In that moment I learned that the space
program isn’t about space exploration. It’s about progress and progress is something
every American needs.

Progress: a continuation of value, a constant moving forward. America is a nation
established on this idea. We have a president in White House elected because of this idea.
There is no doubt, America has made progress, significant progress. But can say we are
doing so now?

It’s important to remember that with any type of investment in progress, there is an equal
or sometimes greater investment in hope. Right now, America is a country at war,
literally and metaphorically. Every American is fighting a battle, the battle of the
unemployed, the battle of the uninsured, the battle of the uneducated. There have been
causalities. In my mind, I see a fleet of Americans raising the white flag, sending home
their dog tags, lying down in their respective boxes and allowing themselves to be
buried deeper in this recession. We sure could use an investment in hope about now, one
with wide potential to pay off.

The plume of smoke and dust from the five-segment, first stage of the Ares-1 rocket fills the area during a test at ATK Space Systems, Thursday, September 10, 2009 in Promontory, Utah. The motor is NASA's next generation transportation system designed for the Orion program.

Now I’m not an economist. I’m not a politician. And we already know, I’m not a rocket
scientist. I’m just a girl who for 3 months was able to invest something in progress by
investing myself in the space program, and now I’m really hopeful about the future. I
look at the stars and wonder what’s up there, thinking we might know someday. I see a
shuttle launch or a rocket test fire and feel a sense of pride and of progress that isn’t
temporary because when will humans every run out of space to explore.
To me, the question is not whether or not this country can afford to invest in a space
program. America needs a space program. The question is how do we get President
Obama and millions of Americans to feel the same way. Maybe we should invite them to
the next launch? Just an idea.

By: Mikaylie Kartchner