Christmas in wartime: year-by-year..
1985: First one? Strange, we're eating turkey and all the trimmings at the Mesa Sheraton, just glad to still be alive, and yet, 250 miles to the east? Guys on the front lines have to make do, and folks behind the lines are lucky to have what Ivan allowed them under his rationing.
1986: Glad to be alive, knowing we took Ivan's Spring-Summer Offensive and threw it back. And still eating at the Sheraton. (That year and the subsequent ones, DOD made sure everyone in uniform had a Turkey Dinner for the Holidays, and both '85 and '86, the Sheraton cooks whipped up a memorable feast both times)
1987: Sheppard... those restaurateurs who ran MAG-11's Mess Operation made sure we had a "Real Texas Christmas Dinner." Your choice: Fire-roasted or BBQ Turkey or Ham. And glad to be in Texas instead of still in Arizona after PRAIRIE FIRE.
1988: Bergstrom... Those restaurateurs came with us, so we had the same meal, only a lot closer to the Rio Grande. LONG RIFLE/GULF HAMMER knocked the bad guys back, so we're in a good mood, even if were' not on the Rio Grande as everybody had hoped.
1989: NAF El Centro: It's all over except for Cuba, The Navy cooks did a good job, even as the 335th is flying holes in the sky over Baja, doing mostly nothing and not firing a shot. Still, everybody's pissed off we're restricted to the base because of the Armistice Flu.
1990: Back at home station, Seymour-Johnson. Even though there's still rationing, everyone's glad it's all over and the job of picking up the pieces has been going on since the Armistice Flu burned out back in Feb-March.
Wartime Christmas
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Matt Wiser
- Posts: 1140
- Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2022 2:48 am
- Location: Auberry, CA
Wartime Christmas
The difference between diplomacy and war is this: Diplomacy is the art of telling someone to go to hell so elegantly that they pack for the trip.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
Re: Wartime Christmas
1985: Boyle Heights, providing security coverage for the masses at Dolores Mission Church. Had some Cubans try to infiltrate into the plaza, brief firefight, didn't even interrupt the Gloria.
1986: Refitting with LAV-25s near Gallup.
1987: Dalworthington. Had a few minor engagements that, looking back, were a foreshadowing of the enemy's impending collapse. Pretty much amounted to Ivan doing a mag dump and then running away at high speed.
1988: Down in Southeast Texas with the rest of III Corps. Attended the vigil service. "Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests." Punctuated by the 13th Marines delivering a time-on-target counterbattery mission. Chaplain didn't miss a beat, just said, "And I see His favor ain't resting on the Commies tonight."
1989: Attended the Christmas morning service as the Corps' most senior Lance Corporal. That afternoon, talked with the chaplain for a long time about what the heck I was supposed to do from there.
1990: Christmas Eve service at Calvary Chapel with Roberta, caroling with American Legion Post 5611 after that. Next day was Christmas dinner with Roberta, Karen, and a few other friends from Post 5611.
1986: Refitting with LAV-25s near Gallup.
1987: Dalworthington. Had a few minor engagements that, looking back, were a foreshadowing of the enemy's impending collapse. Pretty much amounted to Ivan doing a mag dump and then running away at high speed.
1988: Down in Southeast Texas with the rest of III Corps. Attended the vigil service. "Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests." Punctuated by the 13th Marines delivering a time-on-target counterbattery mission. Chaplain didn't miss a beat, just said, "And I see His favor ain't resting on the Commies tonight."
1989: Attended the Christmas morning service as the Corps' most senior Lance Corporal. That afternoon, talked with the chaplain for a long time about what the heck I was supposed to do from there.
1990: Christmas Eve service at Calvary Chapel with Roberta, caroling with American Legion Post 5611 after that. Next day was Christmas dinner with Roberta, Karen, and a few other friends from Post 5611.
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Belushi TD
- Posts: 1583
- Joined: Thu Nov 17, 2022 11:20 am
Re: Wartime Christmas
As I was 11 in '85, I only sort of remember what was going on at the time. I know my dad, who was an electrical and mechanical engineer at Bell Labs was highly involved in the war effort, was frequently "out of town" and mom and I would eat pizza the first night. The first Christmas I was lucky enough to have it be as normal as possible, considering that my uncle, who normally worked in the Twin Towers had been commuting when the nuke in New York went off. Uncle Ray had been irradiated, and he had ended up with a fairly unpleasant cancer. Turns out that it was a melanoma, and they were able to surgically remove it. On the other hand, Dad was home, I was young, and while I understood that we were at war, it was a nebulous kind of a thing.
In '86, I was a year older, and aware both that the war was an existential thing, and that girls were different and the differences were VERY interesting. This was the first year that Dad was not home. It is my understanding from both my service after high school and reading Dad's calendars, that he was a frequent visitor to certain areas in Nevada where he spent a lot of time trying to analyze the jamming pods recovered from downed Soviet planes. Christmas was a subdued affair. Normally we would spend the day with family. However, with gas in short supply, we ended up making a few phone calls. My brother was in Seattle, and had just graduated law school. Normally, he was home with us, but there was no way that he was able to make the trip. While he was very anti-government, he had ended up in the Navy, as a defense attorney. He spent a LOT of time over the next few years trying to either get wrongly accused people acquitted or at least trying to.
Come '87, and I was in 8th grade. There was a girl that I was VERY interested in who wasn't aware that I was alive. Dad was home, but only just. He caught a civilian airliner in to Newark at about 11:30 PM on Christmas eve. Mom and I went to the airport at 7, because that's when the flight was scheduled, but it was delayed due to a soviet incursion into the air lanes. I distinctly remember waking up at about 10, while Mom and I were sitting in chairs at Newark Airport, and looking around, seeing no one, and getting up to walk around and check my surroundings. Laying back down next to mom and going to sleep, I woke up with a gayly wrapped package sitting next to me on the floor. I opened it, and it was a set of Jams, which were the popular clothing item at the time for kids my age. Mom had no idea where it came from. About 15 or 20 minutes later, Dad came down the jetway, and we were together at Christmas.
In '88, I was in high school. I didn't believe in Santa anymore, and Dad was also not home this year. I had played football for my freshman high school team, and done fairly well as a second stringer. Dad was proud of me. I distinctly remember a phone call when he told us that he was in Nevada again, and couldn't spend much time on the phone, as there was a long line of guys looking to call home, and he didn't feel right using time of people who were actually fighting, rather than just annoying electrons.
Come '89, the worst was over. Dad ended up quarantined in Nevada again due to the Armistice Flu. His group had been infected, and even though he was not sick, they wouldn't let him leave the base he was at. He was able to tell us that he would be home for New Years, and told me he would bring me something special. Turns out it was a chunk of the structure of a Soviet nuclear warhead that had been a dud. It was found in a field near Kansas City and after analysis, the guards turned a blind eye to my dad walking out with a chunk. Still slightly radioactive at the time, he had carried it in a lead box. All goes to show that war kids ended up with war presents.
In '90, I was a junior and had just ended my first relationship with the woman who ended up becoming my wife. We had dated for a long time(2.5 years) and I wanted different things from life than she did. It was fairly traumatic, but Dad being home and the war being over helped a great deal.
Belushi TD
In '86, I was a year older, and aware both that the war was an existential thing, and that girls were different and the differences were VERY interesting. This was the first year that Dad was not home. It is my understanding from both my service after high school and reading Dad's calendars, that he was a frequent visitor to certain areas in Nevada where he spent a lot of time trying to analyze the jamming pods recovered from downed Soviet planes. Christmas was a subdued affair. Normally we would spend the day with family. However, with gas in short supply, we ended up making a few phone calls. My brother was in Seattle, and had just graduated law school. Normally, he was home with us, but there was no way that he was able to make the trip. While he was very anti-government, he had ended up in the Navy, as a defense attorney. He spent a LOT of time over the next few years trying to either get wrongly accused people acquitted or at least trying to.
Come '87, and I was in 8th grade. There was a girl that I was VERY interested in who wasn't aware that I was alive. Dad was home, but only just. He caught a civilian airliner in to Newark at about 11:30 PM on Christmas eve. Mom and I went to the airport at 7, because that's when the flight was scheduled, but it was delayed due to a soviet incursion into the air lanes. I distinctly remember waking up at about 10, while Mom and I were sitting in chairs at Newark Airport, and looking around, seeing no one, and getting up to walk around and check my surroundings. Laying back down next to mom and going to sleep, I woke up with a gayly wrapped package sitting next to me on the floor. I opened it, and it was a set of Jams, which were the popular clothing item at the time for kids my age. Mom had no idea where it came from. About 15 or 20 minutes later, Dad came down the jetway, and we were together at Christmas.
In '88, I was in high school. I didn't believe in Santa anymore, and Dad was also not home this year. I had played football for my freshman high school team, and done fairly well as a second stringer. Dad was proud of me. I distinctly remember a phone call when he told us that he was in Nevada again, and couldn't spend much time on the phone, as there was a long line of guys looking to call home, and he didn't feel right using time of people who were actually fighting, rather than just annoying electrons.
Come '89, the worst was over. Dad ended up quarantined in Nevada again due to the Armistice Flu. His group had been infected, and even though he was not sick, they wouldn't let him leave the base he was at. He was able to tell us that he would be home for New Years, and told me he would bring me something special. Turns out it was a chunk of the structure of a Soviet nuclear warhead that had been a dud. It was found in a field near Kansas City and after analysis, the guards turned a blind eye to my dad walking out with a chunk. Still slightly radioactive at the time, he had carried it in a lead box. All goes to show that war kids ended up with war presents.
In '90, I was a junior and had just ended my first relationship with the woman who ended up becoming my wife. We had dated for a long time(2.5 years) and I wanted different things from life than she did. It was fairly traumatic, but Dad being home and the war being over helped a great deal.
Belushi TD