The Worst Christmas Ever
Sunny, 65,43, Fair to Fair. The sunny weather continues, but not all things are looking good on the farm. I've got an animal going down. She's got the scours real bad and I've tried a bunch of things to get her well, but she keeps getting thinner and thinner. This week, I'm trying some last resort medicines. Unlike cows, it doesn't make sense for the vet to come out for a $70 goat, so I keep trying and trying. If she gets much weaker, I'll just have to put her down....... man I hate to do that......
While I was getting ready this morning, I sat and looked at our Christmas tree. Thinking back on Christmas’s past, I remembered my worst Christmas ever. I thought I’d let y’all in on it.
I was in South Korea, about 10 minutes from Panmunjom at a base camp which I believe was called Liberty. I was a medic in an infantry unit that was patrolling a section of no mans land called the Demilitarized Zone, DMZ for short. The Routine was to do a 24 hour patrol in the DMZ, come back and get debriefed, and get a little sleep. The next day was weapons cleaning and requalifying the weapon and getting whatever personal stuff needed to be done. The third day was a battery of inspections, then get transported up to a guard post inside the DMZ. This was a three day cycle that seemed to go on forever.
In addition, we happened to be going through a cold snap and the temperature at 0 degrees or below. Because of the cold, orders came down that people responsible for vehicles needed to get up twice in the night and start them. So on non patrol days, I’d get up at midnight and 4am to start my transport truck.
We stayed in a canvas tent that would house about 25 guys. There were two diesel fuel heaters in the tent that looked like mini woodstoves, but gave off less than half the heat. Each one of us had an area for our cot, duffel bag, and footlocker. We tried to spruce up our areas best we could with whatever was sent from home. Around Christmas time, some areas in the place looked down right festive with cards and letters from family and friends.
I had four Christmas cards sitting on my foot locker. They were from my Wife, Mom and Dad, and both Grandparents. Not much, but I would read them everyday (as I would a lot of my letters that came too few and far between), until they started to tear at the fold marks.
My cot happened to be next to a hard nosed inner city kid from the east coast. New Jersey I think. He was an alright guy, but didn’t say much to me or anyone else. Kind of the bully of the squad, but since I was pretty quiet too, he pretty much left me alone. The one thing I did notice about his area, was that where everyone else had their cards and letters in their area, he had none.
Well, I got back in from a 4am check on the deuce and a half, and I heard the Jersey guy say “Hey Bach, throw those cards over here”. I gathered up the four of them and threw him on his cot. He read them while I was getting out of my boots, field jacket, and BDU’s. About 10 minutes after I crawled into the bag, I heard the cards hit my cot near my head and the Jersey guy say “Merry F----‘n Christmas Bach”. Alls I could manage was a “yeah” in return. He rolled over and with his back to me, I could hear sniffles and a small sigh, he tried to cover by clearing his throat. I was welling up inside too.
That was the only Christmas greeting I got that day. A few hours later we were walking in a wasteland. A piece of land that the country we were in claimed as off limits except to people with weapons and bad intentions. No peace on earth, no good will towards men, just bullets and barbed wire, and some lonely, lonely soldiers.
Do me a favor this Christmas, if you have any relatives in the military whether they’re overseas or next door. Get a Christmas card and write the longest letter you can write and send it to them. They may never tell you, but it just may be the biggest pick-me-up on what is supposed to be the happiest day of the year.
Thanks
While I was getting ready this morning, I sat and looked at our Christmas tree. Thinking back on Christmas’s past, I remembered my worst Christmas ever. I thought I’d let y’all in on it.
I was in South Korea, about 10 minutes from Panmunjom at a base camp which I believe was called Liberty. I was a medic in an infantry unit that was patrolling a section of no mans land called the Demilitarized Zone, DMZ for short. The Routine was to do a 24 hour patrol in the DMZ, come back and get debriefed, and get a little sleep. The next day was weapons cleaning and requalifying the weapon and getting whatever personal stuff needed to be done. The third day was a battery of inspections, then get transported up to a guard post inside the DMZ. This was a three day cycle that seemed to go on forever.
In addition, we happened to be going through a cold snap and the temperature at 0 degrees or below. Because of the cold, orders came down that people responsible for vehicles needed to get up twice in the night and start them. So on non patrol days, I’d get up at midnight and 4am to start my transport truck.
We stayed in a canvas tent that would house about 25 guys. There were two diesel fuel heaters in the tent that looked like mini woodstoves, but gave off less than half the heat. Each one of us had an area for our cot, duffel bag, and footlocker. We tried to spruce up our areas best we could with whatever was sent from home. Around Christmas time, some areas in the place looked down right festive with cards and letters from family and friends.
I had four Christmas cards sitting on my foot locker. They were from my Wife, Mom and Dad, and both Grandparents. Not much, but I would read them everyday (as I would a lot of my letters that came too few and far between), until they started to tear at the fold marks.
My cot happened to be next to a hard nosed inner city kid from the east coast. New Jersey I think. He was an alright guy, but didn’t say much to me or anyone else. Kind of the bully of the squad, but since I was pretty quiet too, he pretty much left me alone. The one thing I did notice about his area, was that where everyone else had their cards and letters in their area, he had none.
Well, I got back in from a 4am check on the deuce and a half, and I heard the Jersey guy say “Hey Bach, throw those cards over here”. I gathered up the four of them and threw him on his cot. He read them while I was getting out of my boots, field jacket, and BDU’s. About 10 minutes after I crawled into the bag, I heard the cards hit my cot near my head and the Jersey guy say “Merry F----‘n Christmas Bach”. Alls I could manage was a “yeah” in return. He rolled over and with his back to me, I could hear sniffles and a small sigh, he tried to cover by clearing his throat. I was welling up inside too.
That was the only Christmas greeting I got that day. A few hours later we were walking in a wasteland. A piece of land that the country we were in claimed as off limits except to people with weapons and bad intentions. No peace on earth, no good will towards men, just bullets and barbed wire, and some lonely, lonely soldiers.
Do me a favor this Christmas, if you have any relatives in the military whether they’re overseas or next door. Get a Christmas card and write the longest letter you can write and send it to them. They may never tell you, but it just may be the biggest pick-me-up on what is supposed to be the happiest day of the year.
Thanks
posted by Brad Bachelor at 4:22 AM
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