This was originally posted in 2015, but as many American men and women remain in war zones, I offer it again as I do each year at this time.
Christmas is such a family time, its easy to forget that there are folks who will not experience it with loved ones.
For me that occurred during the Vietnam War. My wife and I had not even been married a year, when I went off to combat.
It was hard for her and it was even harder for me. The family sent me a care package and my wife mailed me a box with a Christmas tree in it. The photo of the tree at left ties me to that day so long ago, but I have very few memories of Christmas. Note the fake snow sprayed around the mirror – why the PX had fake snow for sale is beyond me. Behind the tree is a photo of my wife that –and the fake snow — tied me to home. The only other reminder of that Christmas is the Squadron Christmas Card, below, which I kept.
From the standpoint of the ground soldiers, our time in combat was very limited, maybe 5-10 minutes or if you engaged with a MIG fighter maybe longer, although each mission could be as much as 5 hours long. You dropped your bombs and then went home.
Since we were in Thailand, the Poinsettia Trees on the base were in bloom, another reminder of the holiday, but like shiny tinsel on the tree they only suggested Christmas. The calendar said December 25, but we hardly felt like celebrating. In those pre-email, internet, and cell phone days we really were isolated.
On Christmas Day we aimlessly wandered the base. I had it easy, if you contrast it with others in my family. My Dad was in WW II and Korea missing several Christmases. My uncle who died last year spent Christmas 1944 in the Battle of the Bulge. This was a particularly grim episode of the war. The army had expected a quick push and when the advance stalled, the men were ill prepared for the December weather. Though he never, ever talked about his time in combat, he did admit that it was tremendously cold and that there were great losses. I don’t think he even celebrated Christmas.
My third great grandfather Lt. Lipscomb Norvell spent Christmas 1780 as a POW of the British. Enough said on that – but he did survive.
All these Christmases were terrible. There is no such thing as a good Christmas in war. The men and women who find themselves swept up in war try to cheer themselves up in whatever manner, but it is very, very hard to do.
When I say that we restlessly wandered the base on Christmas, it was just that. It was like we were disconnected. We were rootless and we didn’t really understand why.
This year many young Americans will again find themselves far from home. They will try to be happy, but the joy will be missing. They will be rootless and not know why, cut off from family and friends and all the things that make Christmas special.
Please keep them in mind and think about all that they do for you to keep you safe.