In 1984 I graduated from high school, and joined the Army the following November. I actually left for basic training on the Monday following Thanksgiving. However, the Army is the only branch of the Armed Forces that allows their trainees to go home at Christmas time. When I was in basic training all training bases pretty much shut down on December 19 and didn't restart training until January 3. Trainees were allowed, and actually encouraged, to take leave and go home.
The funny part of all of this was, here we are, training to be combat soldiers, yet when we went on leave we had to be able to show either a bus ticket leaving from Ft. McClellan, AL or plane ticket home, or our parents could pick us up at our basic training units. If we didn't have one of those things, then we weren't allowed to go. Now, for most that was not an issue. But I had one guy in my platoon who was 34 years old at the time he was going through basic training. Both his parents were deceased. His WIFE was picking him up. Yet he had to jump through all kinds of hoops with the drill sgts. and the commander in order to be able to go home on leave.
We marched to the buses, which were all leaving from Ft. McClellan and I prepared for a very long bus ride from Alabama to Ohio. As I sat there however, I saw a guy get on the bus who I knew. A guy I had graduated High School with. Being able to chat with a friend on the way home helped the bus ride go a lot faster.
Anyway, I was able to get home for leave at Christmas time while in basic training in 1984. In 1985 I had completed basic training, but had been assigned to the Defense Language Institute - Foreign Language Center in Monterey, CA. Another training assignment. So, once again, we were allowed and even encouraged to take leave time over the Christmas holiday. So, once again, I made it home for Christmas. Coming back wasn't so easy. While stationed in Monterey I would fly in and out of San Francisco Airport whenever I came home. I would always fly from San Francisco to either O'Hare Airport in Chicago, or Dallas-Fort Worth Airport, and then on to Columbus. On my way back to California after my Christmas break in 1985, my flight from Columbus to Dallas was late getting started. I landed in Dallas as my connecting flight to San Francisco was leaving. So I went to the ticket counter and the lady was very nice. She gave me a ticket to the next flight to San Francisco. This wouldn't get me in to San Francisco until late, and then I had to get from there to Monterey. I had arranged for someone to pick me up at the airport, but had to cancel that ride since the flight delay meant it would be several hours later before I got there. Then I had to call my unit in Monterey and request an extra day extension on my leave. This was taken care of and I spent the next several hours wandering around Dallas-Fort Worth Airport with nothing to do but wonder how I was going to be able to get from San Francisco to Monterey once I finally got back. When my flight finally left Dallas I noticed something strange about my boarding pass. The seat number was 1B. Now, I've flown enough to know that the number is the row you're in and the letter is which seat you are assigned to in that row. At first I thought it must be a smaller plane than I usually fly on, and one which has no first class. After all, I sure didn't pay for a first class ticket. But as I prepared to board the plane I noticed it wasn't any smaller than any other plane I'd ever been on. Then when I actually boarded, I was directed to the area behind the magic curtain. If you've ever flown you know...only the SPECIAL ones get to go behind that curtain. As I sat down in that nice large chair, the flight attendant approached me and asked, "Would like orange juice or champaign before we take off?" WHAT??!! Yes, I was upgraded to first class without even knowing it. Now, to this day I don't know if the upgrade was due to the fact that my flight was late and they upgraded me to make up for me missing my connecting flight, if I was put there because they didn't have any coach seats left, or if they upgraded me because I happened to be a soldier in uniform. Whatever the reason...THANK YOU AMERICAN AIRLINES!
In 1986 I was still in the Army, and now stationed in Germany. Getting home for Christmas was not going to happen. However, my uncle was also in the Army and also stationed in Germany. I would go visit him on occassion. I would take the train from Wertheim to Frankfurt where I would snack on a couple of ham broechen (mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm) then switch trains to head up to where my uncle was stationed. Fortunately I was able to get time off at Christmas to spend time with him and his wife. So, even though I was not home for the first Christmas in my life, I was with family.
In 1998 I started working my current job with the Dublin Police Dept. This will be the 14th Christmas that I've worked for the department. But I've only actually been at work for one of those, and that Christmas I was off work at 2:45pm and down to mom and dad's within about an hour.
So, three years in the Army and fourteen years working in public safety, and I've only worked one Christmas and only missed being home once. It brings to mind the number of people who haven't been so lucky. Especially those currently serving in war zones and those who have spent more than one or even two holiday seasons in war zones. I'll be thinking of them even more this year.
See...this blogging thing does serve some purpose. It makes me stop and really think about things when I put them in writing. I realize now just how fortunate I have been.
The funny part of all of this was, here we are, training to be combat soldiers, yet when we went on leave we had to be able to show either a bus ticket leaving from Ft. McClellan, AL or plane ticket home, or our parents could pick us up at our basic training units. If we didn't have one of those things, then we weren't allowed to go. Now, for most that was not an issue. But I had one guy in my platoon who was 34 years old at the time he was going through basic training. Both his parents were deceased. His WIFE was picking him up. Yet he had to jump through all kinds of hoops with the drill sgts. and the commander in order to be able to go home on leave.
We marched to the buses, which were all leaving from Ft. McClellan and I prepared for a very long bus ride from Alabama to Ohio. As I sat there however, I saw a guy get on the bus who I knew. A guy I had graduated High School with. Being able to chat with a friend on the way home helped the bus ride go a lot faster.
Anyway, I was able to get home for leave at Christmas time while in basic training in 1984. In 1985 I had completed basic training, but had been assigned to the Defense Language Institute - Foreign Language Center in Monterey, CA. Another training assignment. So, once again, we were allowed and even encouraged to take leave time over the Christmas holiday. So, once again, I made it home for Christmas. Coming back wasn't so easy. While stationed in Monterey I would fly in and out of San Francisco Airport whenever I came home. I would always fly from San Francisco to either O'Hare Airport in Chicago, or Dallas-Fort Worth Airport, and then on to Columbus. On my way back to California after my Christmas break in 1985, my flight from Columbus to Dallas was late getting started. I landed in Dallas as my connecting flight to San Francisco was leaving. So I went to the ticket counter and the lady was very nice. She gave me a ticket to the next flight to San Francisco. This wouldn't get me in to San Francisco until late, and then I had to get from there to Monterey. I had arranged for someone to pick me up at the airport, but had to cancel that ride since the flight delay meant it would be several hours later before I got there. Then I had to call my unit in Monterey and request an extra day extension on my leave. This was taken care of and I spent the next several hours wandering around Dallas-Fort Worth Airport with nothing to do but wonder how I was going to be able to get from San Francisco to Monterey once I finally got back. When my flight finally left Dallas I noticed something strange about my boarding pass. The seat number was 1B. Now, I've flown enough to know that the number is the row you're in and the letter is which seat you are assigned to in that row. At first I thought it must be a smaller plane than I usually fly on, and one which has no first class. After all, I sure didn't pay for a first class ticket. But as I prepared to board the plane I noticed it wasn't any smaller than any other plane I'd ever been on. Then when I actually boarded, I was directed to the area behind the magic curtain. If you've ever flown you know...only the SPECIAL ones get to go behind that curtain. As I sat down in that nice large chair, the flight attendant approached me and asked, "Would like orange juice or champaign before we take off?" WHAT??!! Yes, I was upgraded to first class without even knowing it. Now, to this day I don't know if the upgrade was due to the fact that my flight was late and they upgraded me to make up for me missing my connecting flight, if I was put there because they didn't have any coach seats left, or if they upgraded me because I happened to be a soldier in uniform. Whatever the reason...THANK YOU AMERICAN AIRLINES!
In 1986 I was still in the Army, and now stationed in Germany. Getting home for Christmas was not going to happen. However, my uncle was also in the Army and also stationed in Germany. I would go visit him on occassion. I would take the train from Wertheim to Frankfurt where I would snack on a couple of ham broechen (mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm) then switch trains to head up to where my uncle was stationed. Fortunately I was able to get time off at Christmas to spend time with him and his wife. So, even though I was not home for the first Christmas in my life, I was with family.
In 1998 I started working my current job with the Dublin Police Dept. This will be the 14th Christmas that I've worked for the department. But I've only actually been at work for one of those, and that Christmas I was off work at 2:45pm and down to mom and dad's within about an hour.
So, three years in the Army and fourteen years working in public safety, and I've only worked one Christmas and only missed being home once. It brings to mind the number of people who haven't been so lucky. Especially those currently serving in war zones and those who have spent more than one or even two holiday seasons in war zones. I'll be thinking of them even more this year.
See...this blogging thing does serve some purpose. It makes me stop and really think about things when I put them in writing. I realize now just how fortunate I have been.
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