1. The memo from General West to all officers in Jack’s wing asking officers to volunteer for a project he was in command of, operating out of Cheyenne Mountain. One of the officers Jack had worked with a number of times before, Charlie Kawalsky volunteered, as did another he knew only slightly, by the name of Frank Feretti. But Jack’s son Charlie had died the week before, and the distraught father was in custody drying out, having shown up on base reeling drunk. One failed physical (drunkenness, unfit for duty), one threatened disciplinary hearing (refusal to follow an order to report for a psych. eval.) and three separate visits with three evaluating psychiatrists (unfit for duty due to psychosis and suicidal ideation, separation due to mental defect or disability recommended)later, Jack left the base a civilian, having never cleared out his desk. The memo was on the top of his inbox. His jacket, which was awaiting final filing was erroneously placed on the pile with Kawalsky and Feretti’s and several others’, and forwarded to General West, who decided to recall him for his own reasons.
2. The memo to everyone stationed at the SGC announcing the transfer of Major Samuels to the Pentagon, effective immediately, and the appointment of Colonel O’Neill as General Hammond’s Second in Command. Jack was just back from Argos, and his rheumy elderly eyes would not allow him to read it when Daniel thrust it at him. The admitting to less-than-perfect eyesight is a touchy subject for flyboys, and General Hammond, recognizing this, took the paper from Jack’s tremulous and seamed hands, and read it to Jack himself. It certainly gave his officer something to look forward to as soon as his youth (or at least the last vestiges of it) returned.
3. The memo Sam Carter intended to submit, requesting separation from the Air Force and a position in the labs. After he walked away from her explanation of how she’d created the particle generator to invite Laira to return with him, she had sworn not to let her feelings for any man interfere with her career, ever again. If love and romance came, well good, but she wasn’t looking for them, and she was definitely making her career priority number one. She tore the memo into tiny shreds, and threw it in the shredder for good measure. Like all trash in the facility, it was incinerated.
4. That one about the powers of the CMO never existed, but he had thrown out a memo earlier in the week (from the officer in charge of parking at Norad, requesting that all vehicles that were to remain in the lot for periods longer than six days be tagged and keys left with his office for re-parking in the distant shuttle lots to make room for those in daily use) without having read it, because a bit of icing from a mid-morning cake pick-me-up had fallen on another memo, and the two got stuck together and he never noticed the second memo underneath the first.
5. The hand written memo from the President of the United States, personally delivered by the President himself, requesting that Jack put off his retirement for an additional two years. Jack could tell just by the man’s expression what it was, and God knew he’d had enough phone calls from him and his minions about the subject. He snatched it from the President’s surprised fingers before the Secret Service even had a chance to react, and ripped it up on the spot.
“No!” Jack said firmly. “No way!...sir. I promised Carter. I promised.”
The President – to the vast surprise of the others in the room, with the probable exception of Jack O’Neill – gave a somewhat sheepish grin, and shrugged his shoulders.
“I had to try,” he said.
Later Jack kind of regretted being so dramatic about it. Even that shrub's signature could be valuable one day.


Edited to restore an ommitted word