“Mele Kalikimaka and The Chaplain’s Christmas” is the fourth article in the Christmas On Deployment series, where veterans, active duty military personnel, law enforcement and first responders share their experiences. It’s an effort to give Americans an idea of the price paid for our freedom. The first three articles are here, here, and here. This installment tells two very sobering stories. Truly, only those who were there will ever really understand, but hopefully this provides a glimpse for those who were at home.
Mele Kalikimaka at FOB Falcon
Larry writes of a Christmas honoring a wounded comrade. “I was a staff Sergeant then at FOB Falcon, Iraq with 1/14 CAV.” Their squadron – 1st Squadron, 114th Cavalry – had arrived in the summer of 2006. “We had suffered some casualties. The main one was Sgt. K, a Hawaiian.”
“Sgt. K had lost both his legs in an IED attack.”
“Sgt. K had lost both his legs in an IED attack. He was sent to Walter Reed for recovery, but we were all still there and Christmas was upon us. Our First Sergeant and other staff went way out of their way to celebrate Christmas in his honor. We had ‘Mele Kalikimaka,’ Hawaiian Christmas. They bought hundreds of leis and blowup palm trees, all kinds of Hawaiian decor.”
“We made a BBQ pit and we grilled meats we rescued from the chow hall. We sat around the fire telling stories and sharing memories, drinking near-beer and toasting SGT K. He died of sepsis at Walter Reed a few months later, but I will never forget him, or that Christmas.”
The Chaplain’s Christmas
From Robert: “I was the Chaplain of a Military Police Battalion from the Mississippi Army National Guard. We deployed to Kuwait in 2011, right at the end of the war.” [Note: 112th Military Police Battalion, Mississippi Army National Guard.]
“On Christmas, the last U.S. combat troops had withdrawn only about a week before. There was a sense that “The war is over!” There was, however, no indication of when we might get to go home.”
“One of my best memories from my time in the Army is standing at the front of that trailer, looking out on the illuminated faces of all those soldiers holding candles and singing Silent Night….”
“Our unit had run some security on MSR Tampa (the highway that runs from Kuwait to Baghdad), but of course that had ended with the draw down. But our MPs were still running Khabari Crossing (or “K Crossing), which was essentially the gate through which all those trucks and troops went as they left Iraq. We shared the facility with the Kuwaiti Border Police.”
“On Christmas Eve, the Chief of Chaplains (a Major General) had come to visit us, which meant that we all (Protestants and Catholics) attended Christmas Eve Mass at the post chapel at Camp Buehring. After that service, I drove up to K-Crossing (about a 20 minute drive) with one of our operations officers, a captain. My chaplain assistant and I had both just been promoted that morning- he from private first class to specialist, and me from first lieutenant to captain.”
“I had obtained some candles from the post chapel, and we all huddled into a trailer for the service. Almost everyone attended. I think two guys were left to man the tower, with the rest of the platoon joining in. It was actually very cold that night.”
“Maybe one of my best memories from my time in the Army is standing at the front of that trailer, looking out on the illuminated faces of all those soldiers holding candles and singing Silent Night on the Iraq border. The war was over. ‘All is calm, all is bright.’”
“Of course, that didn’t last. We had to return to Iraq after handing everything over. I missed the first Christmas of my daughter, who was born a month before we were mobilized. My wife and I later divorced, and I left the pastoral ministry. I wonder how much all our time apart played into that. What was it all for?”
“Makes you long for peace on earth and good will towards men.”
Send In Your Stories of Christmas On Deployment
Your experiences may or may not be dramatic. Most veterans say the same thing: some variation of “Oh, you know, it wasn’t very interesting, nothing really happened.” They don’t understand what civilians want to know.
… their families and friends want to know about their lives. So do the strangers who pray every night, asking God to protect our troops.
All deployed troops long for letters from home. Any letters – even those with only newsy bits about family and friends. Those newsy bits help them feel connected to home, to the things they are fighting for.
In the same way, their families and friends want to know about their lives, even the times when nothing really happened. So do all the strangers in America who pray every night, asking God to protect our troops. These stories are for them. What I’m looking for is to reflect the totality of the experience.
What did you do on Christmas Eve on a base in Viet Nam or Afghanistan, Iraq or Incirlik? On Christmas Day on an aircraft carrier or a destroyer? What made it difficult, and more important, what made it bearable? What would you like your kids, your parents, your brother, to know about your deployment? Please email me your stories at [email protected] and I will retell them here. If you include your contact information, I will reach out and interview you. Help those who support our troops, pray for our troops, and thank you for your service understand what they are thanking you for. Thank you.
