I’ve been around for over 80 years and experienced a lot of Christmas Days in my lifetime. Many when I was just a child, teenager, adult, and senior citizen. Most were happy when it was spent with family in my younger years. Then things changed on Christmas when I worked or was away in the service. One Christmas when I was in the Army stuck in my memory more than all the others.
In January of 1960, I decided to enlist in the Army for three years. I had just dropped out of college after two years and thought this would be good for me. I joined five days after my 21st birthday.
After a year of specialized training, I obtained a top-secret clearance and was assigned to the ASA (Army Security Agency). A year later, I was sent to Sinop, Turkey. A place I never knew anything about or where it was growing up. It was located on a mountain on the Black Sea across from Soviet Union.
A small base of around 200 soldiers living in Quonset huts, outhouses for bathrooms, and no running water. Not a pleasant place to live for a year.
We had a basketball court and played on teams against each other. One winter, I was picked to be on our team to play in a holiday tournament. The games would be played at Sampson Air Force Base 200 miles away. The other four teams were from other air force bases located in Turkey.
For five days, we lived like kings eating real food, vegetables, and real milk and ice cream. Their food was flown in fresh each week. Ours were mostly canned and delivered by boat once a month.
Anyway, we won the tournament and received our trophies. I received one for being the high scorer. Had to tell you that. We then loaded into our open Army truck and headed back to The Hill. We sat in silence while the truck rumbled along the long cold winding dirt roads.
Then, suddenly, we stopped about 10 miles away. Our driver told us to get out and look northward. Up on the mountain base there were shining lights attached to a Christmas tree. The guys on the base put up the large tree and decorated it while we were gone.
It was Christmas Eve. Being in Turkey, the people there did not celebrate Christmas and we kind of forgot about it. The rest of the ride, all we talked about was our families back home and how we missed them. We began singing Christmas carols and soon entered our base. We were greeted by our buddies who cheered us for beating the air force teams. We then sat down for a midnight breakfast.
Soon, it was Christmas Day and the mail truck arrived with cards and presents from home. The sun rose and I looked out at the Black Sea and thanked God for another fine Christmas. And the fact that I only had 30 more days before I would be coming home on leave. Not knowing in the next few months, they would be sending me to South Florida. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis was about to begin, and I would be involved.
Love writes from Wildwood.
