THE AGE OF CHRISTMAS PAST
It was December of 1972, when I with forty- eight other Soldiers and Airmen became AFRC personnel and were learning our first taste of Berchtesgaden. Some say you measure your life by the Christmas seasons. I certainly think that is true. And I remember my first Christmas in Berchtesgaden, I remember walking out on the slopes at Skytop and looking over at the rope tow on the beginner hill, and up the house lift and seeing all the young girls and thinking this would be a good year. I realized that this would be a great year. German Christmas are different. Bavarian Christmases are more then different, they are quaint, and very traditional. I remember learning the strange German Bavarian Customs during Christmas or “Weilnachten.” I remember how lucky I really felt when I looked around this charming little alpine town and then it struck me. Many of the guys I went through basic training were on other shores and in a jungle. I would later learn to miss and cherish those years as I look back at them.
It took me years to regurgitate that and cherish those years in Berchtesgaden. But it hit me one evening in 2003 lying on a cot in 130 degree weather while at war in a completely different landscape in Baghdad, Iraq.
While listening to small arms fire, and a few rockets exploding, I tried to fall sleep and think about the years of Christmas past. I figured if I could dream about being colder, and if I could think about a happier place, maybe I could get some shut-eye. When I finally did fall asleep, I dreamed about the years of past Christmases, that followed my first Christmas in Berchtesgaden. How e enjoyable and different they truly were. From 1972, to 1995 as I dreamt on how I ended up living there as a civilian. How I too, later wore and dressed in Lederhosen, shooting my “Boeller,” or black powered pistol, listening to the sound of thunder, echo across the Alpine village while smelling black power on Christmas Eve.
I dreamed about how I loved those years. The years turn into decades and soon a young man becomes an older one. And we all get older, as time moves on. One has to think how lucky we all are. We are at home enjoying each other’s company and spending it with those around us we love. Then I woke up and realized I only have 180 days left.
That year seemed to go by slowly, but I remember it well. But it passed and it soon became another Christmas. So in this year, Christmas will be spent with all our old friends and as we start to think about the good times, I ask that you think about those soldiers who are not at home opening gifts with their loved ones.
Remember those who Soldiers, Sailors, Marines and Airmen who are still overseas fighting against those who would take away our beloved Christmas. IBecause Al-Qaida hates Santa too!
Frohe Weilnachten und eine Guten Rutsch in Neu Jahr!