Christmas Memories While Deployed

Service members are deployed worldwide if possible they are singing hymns, sharing good wishes, dreaming of home, and generally making the best of whatever situation they are in as they always have done this time of year.
Not that this has always been easy. In fact, there have been some very dark Christmases in our nation’s military history; from that bitter December at Valley Forge in 1777 to the massive wound-lickings following devastating December losses at Fredericksburg in 1862 and Pearl Harbor in 1941 to the terrible December siege of Bastogne in 1944, and others.
We all may have a favorite Christmas that holds a special place in our hearts and memories, maybe more then one. To those that are deployed at Christmas it takes on a whole new meaning.
I have never served in the military, but the gift to be able to go and see our troops overseas those 4 times will be as real to me today as they were then. Those visits live in my heart forever. As each of the Christmas shows finished there was always the song “Silent Night”.
Here is my favorite Chrtmas memory.
It was 1968, I was living in Dallas, Texas and the modeling agency I was with picked a few of us to hostess an event that Bob Hope was having.It was not a big event, just a small gathering to entertain a handful of Dallas business people that were Republicans and supporting the Vietnam War. When we showed up we were all introduced to Bob Hope. I was thrilled, he was one of my parents favorites as well as my own. He always made me laugh and his support of our military had meant a lot to my family.
He took me aside and asked me some questions and then asked if I wanted to do a few skits with him for part of the entertainment. I told him yes I would love to and even though I was a nervous, my shyness was overcome with excitement. He asked if I had anything memorized I could show him since there was no piano there for me to play for him. I remembered one of the things my Uncles had taught me when I was a very little girl. ” Ready on the right, ready on the left, ready on the firing line….” For fun I had added body posture and physical animation and changed the words ever so slightly…..giggle.
“Ready on the right, ready on the left, ready on the firing line. You have five (said in slow drawl) seconds to get into a tight prrrrone position and squeeeeeze off your rounds” Then I pretended to aim and fire. LOL When I got done I smiled and asked if it was OK. He loved it. He laughed and smiled and said it was a keeper. LOL After the event that night, he talked to me about his tours to support the troops. The next time I saw him it was in California of that year as we were getting the run down on the 1968 Tour and God blessed my life to be able to go a total of 4 times. To be able to see my heroes, our countries heroes too, and thank them…..those were the best Christmas’s in my whole life.

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This Video below is an outtake from the 1944 20th Century Fox movie “FOUR JILLS IN A JEEP,” adapted from Carole Landis’ book about the real-life journey by Landis, Raye, Mitzi Mayfair and Kay Francis to entertain U.S. troops overseas in WWII.
Martha Raye also went to entertain the troops during the Vietnam War. She is one of my heroes.

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Sharing your past
or present most memorable Christmas

memory (ies) when
deployed in past wars or present.

It was a very wet and cold Christmas Eve in Vietnam.
Being on a reconnaissance-sniper mission that day, we had been in the field for more than three straight weeks, living on C-rations and dehydrated foods.
The choppers could hardly be expected to show, since the density of the rain and the fog grew thick as we went deeper into the mountains.
Childhood memories of my brothers and sisters came back to me, and each time we rested, I was drawn into a deep silence. The leeches were all over us, sucking what life we were trying desperately to preserve, but we were much too tired to do anything about them.
Vines and thorns pierced into our necks. Colonies of red ants bundled into balls of leaves swarmed over us at the slightest touch. Our skin was turning into crusts and flaked when scratched. The ringworm on my face and the burning itch between my thighs had taken its toll, and I began to cry.
I could hardly believe that I celebrated my 19th birthday in this God-forsakened country with a pound cake from a C-ration can, and that I was about to celebrate Christmas in the same way, this time having a fruitcake from another C-ration can.
So disgusted with hate, so damned disgusted with fear, so damned disgusted with this stinking life and where it had put me! “God,” I prayed, “when is all of this going to end? Why me, and why not someone else?” As I lay with my poncho wrapped around me in the mud, with my head resting on my rucksack, I looked over to see my buddies huddled in their own ways, as if they were being snuggled in their mothers’ arms. I could see the same tears of heaven fall on their heads, hiding their own tears.
And as I whispered myself to sleep, I cried, “Mama, mama, I miss you so … Where’s all my brothers and sisters? … Dad, dad, I love you too … Don’t worry, I’m all right, I’ll be strong … Grandma? Hi, Grandpa, boy I sure miss you guys … Let’s go fishing soon, okay?”
Suddenly, a noise – like machinegun bursts – drew quickly toward me. I couldn’t think, my mind was blank from being so tired, so cold. I could only think, and feel, fear.
I grabbed my rifle and tried to scream as the noise got louder, echoing and bouncing back and forth in my head. Then I opened my eyes as if a bolt of lightning had pierced my body. To my amazement the rain had stopped and only beads of sweat covered my forehead as I began to look about.
Then I looked up and saw a chopper hovering above us, dropping cannisters attached to ropes. I dropped my rifle in my excitement to see what we had. We carried the cannisters and began to open them. To my astonishment and delight we found steaming hot turkey smothered in gravy, mashed potatoes and yams, peas and carrots, bread and butter, and beer. A new change of clothing, too, and some hot cocoa to relax over.
I just couldn’t believe it, I just couldn’t, as I cried for joy, and we all gave thanks in our own way. Christmas was never forgotten, even as deep into the mountains as we were, we hadn’t been forgotten. The good Lord heard our cries and touched the hearts of our commanders, who knew what it was like here.

This story was originally published in the Honolulu Star-Bulletin in December 1981. The author, Jimmy F. “Jeno” Enocencio, hopes to share his experience of a Christmas spent in Vietnam as a tribute to the service men and women, past and present, who serve our country, as well as to offer a message of hope to family members of service members deployed abroad. For his service in Vietnam, the author was awarded the Bronze Star with valor, the Army Commendation Medal, the Air Medal, the Combat Infantry Man’s Badge and the Good Conduct Medal, which is his favorite. Enocencio served as a Pointman in the Reconnaissance/Sniper Team with the Americal Division from 1970-1971.

During Christmas 1969, former Army Ranger and artillery forward observer John Temple Ligon was positioned near the Cambodian border.
“It was hot as hell in the day,” he tells NRO. “Night was worse: We were being regularly mortared, and the mosquitoes were so big you thought they’d carry you away.” But Ligon and his fellow soldiers had a Christmas tree.
“It was artificial, of course, just under three-feet tall, on which we hung cut-and-polished C-ration peanut butter cans for ornamentation,” he says. “We stood it up in the sandbagged command post. Other than that, it was just another day in Vietnam.”

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favorite…………