I want to reminisce about what happened to my Christmas spirit last year (1975) in Okinawa, Japan.
None of us could believe we had to work; we all decided to "skate" and have fun. The married guys got the day off and they tried to placate us with New Year's Day. I was getting up at ten PM which was routine for a Christmas Eve working the graveyard shift. As I walked through the barracks, I passed one friend crying in his room like a kid and another playing the Christmas record his mother had sent. I didn't help him at all reminding him he wasn't home. When I watched TV with him the other night, he wanted to hear it again and tears overcame him. He was doubtless ashamed at being so maudlin and overly sentimental.
As I got downstairs I saw all the guys line up to call home. If only their parents knew how long they waited in line for this ... but they really had nothing productive to do and this kept their minds off themselves for a while. I walked through the day room and heard this old tape playing Christmas music. The room was a mess with the beer and pop cans from the company party. If it wasn't a holiday we never would've gotten away with this. The Tannenbaum with ersatz presents and sentimental manger scene were pathetic and couldn't imagine sober guys erecting it. I smirked as I went by one guy that was content with his new stereo he bolstered his ego with--rewarding himself. But he wasn't wasting it on carols but dedicating it to the Doobie Brothers.
Walking across the base to the mess hall I passed the mailroom because they had put out mail that day. But I didn't get any! I guess everybody that was supposed to, had sent me a card, something was awry seeing an empty box--bad omen?
It was warm out: expected snow; it helped us think of it like any other night. Aberglaube (Ger. for superstition) would've taken over if it had snowed because of the mystically-oriented lonely guys. The nocturnal splendor of the consolidated dining facility was nostalgic for us too. They had gone through a lot of work providing us with the traditional carols to hear while dining. I couldn't wait to get to work, where I wouldn't hear it but get my customary cup of cafe au lait. I wasn't even listening to that tape anymore and couldn't figure out why they tried so hard to remind us.
I was a little late getting to work but no one noticed! The regular trick-chief was home and his stand-in was one of "us." I was very dedicated to my job and didn't want to get in trouble, because it was apparent half of these guys were drunk or getting tipsy, even filled with levity.
As I sat down someone started to pass around cookies a mother had sent in a "care package" and everyone was in this "sharing mood." The PA announced some leftover confections in the break lounge the EM wives had concocted.
We had our "HAPPY HOUR" at midnight when someone turned off the lights in jest and some of the guys started to sing a vulgar rendition of Silent Night sanctimoniously. I escaped the sacrilege by tuning in the local F.E.N. station from Tokyo for better taste.
When I got off work the next morning (Christmas), I was too tired to stay up and sacked out hoping that all the madness and hullabaloo would be over when I woke up. This was the one day I heard to stay away from the mess hall because all the officers and married personnel had their families eating at our mess hall (this was only SOP or standard operating procedure). Everyone would be dressed up and the single guys in fatigues would be incongruous anyway.
I thought: "Because the soldier has learned to combat on Christmas and not celebrate, civilians have the right to celebrate!" This is really a sacrifice unbeknownst to most. But someone has to do it. Freedom isn't free!
As I got downstairs I saw all the guys line up to call home. If only their parents knew how long they waited in line for this ... but they really had nothing productive to do and this kept their minds off themselves for a while. I walked through the day room and heard this old tape playing Christmas music. The room was a mess with the beer and pop cans from the company party. If it wasn't a holiday we never would've gotten away with this. The Tannenbaum with ersatz presents and sentimental manger scene were pathetic and couldn't imagine sober guys erecting it. I smirked as I went by one guy that was content with his new stereo he bolstered his ego with--rewarding himself. But he wasn't wasting it on carols but dedicating it to the Doobie Brothers.
Walking across the base to the mess hall I passed the mailroom because they had put out mail that day. But I didn't get any! I guess everybody that was supposed to, had sent me a card, something was awry seeing an empty box--bad omen?
It was warm out: expected snow; it helped us think of it like any other night. Aberglaube (Ger. for superstition) would've taken over if it had snowed because of the mystically-oriented lonely guys. The nocturnal splendor of the consolidated dining facility was nostalgic for us too. They had gone through a lot of work providing us with the traditional carols to hear while dining. I couldn't wait to get to work, where I wouldn't hear it but get my customary cup of cafe au lait. I wasn't even listening to that tape anymore and couldn't figure out why they tried so hard to remind us.
I was a little late getting to work but no one noticed! The regular trick-chief was home and his stand-in was one of "us." I was very dedicated to my job and didn't want to get in trouble, because it was apparent half of these guys were drunk or getting tipsy, even filled with levity.
As I sat down someone started to pass around cookies a mother had sent in a "care package" and everyone was in this "sharing mood." The PA announced some leftover confections in the break lounge the EM wives had concocted.
We had our "HAPPY HOUR" at midnight when someone turned off the lights in jest and some of the guys started to sing a vulgar rendition of Silent Night sanctimoniously. I escaped the sacrilege by tuning in the local F.E.N. station from Tokyo for better taste.
When I got off work the next morning (Christmas), I was too tired to stay up and sacked out hoping that all the madness and hullabaloo would be over when I woke up. This was the one day I heard to stay away from the mess hall because all the officers and married personnel had their families eating at our mess hall (this was only SOP or standard operating procedure). Everyone would be dressed up and the single guys in fatigues would be incongruous anyway.
I thought: "Because the soldier has learned to combat on Christmas and not celebrate, civilians have the right to celebrate!" This is really a sacrifice unbeknownst to most. But someone has to do it. Freedom isn't free!
I felt like writing a letter but had mentioned I wasn't sentimental and no one should expect cards from me; I wasn't writing in the interim in protest.
When I convinced myself to be stoical, as I was glad to sleep all day and get to the mess hall in time for leftovers. I did my best to treat it like any other day; it may have been a "legal holiday" but ... CUI BONO--to what end?
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