It was the Christmas season at Fort Benning, Georgia. Coincidentally, it was my first Christmas in the Army and my first Christmas spent away from home. The reason I wasn’t on leave for Christmas was because I had just returned from PCS leave the first week of December to sign in to my new duty station at Fort Benning. When I signed in to my new unit, my Platoon Sergeant did offer me the chance to take two weeks of leave for Christmas. However, I turned him down. Here’s why. I didn’t have the money to buy the airfare to fly home and taking the two weeks of leave would have given me a negative leave balance of two weeks. I didn’t want a negative leave balance sitting on my leave and earnings statement. My Platoon Sergeant said that I could probably get the money to fly home from AER (Army Emergency Relief) for environmental health and morale reasons. That sounded like a bunch of bullshit to me. I didn’t think anybody was going to give me a grant or a loan for some bullshit reason so that I could fly home for Christmas. He also said I should be able to borrow it from my parents. But that sonofabitch just didn’t know my parents. They were worse than the tin man after he had been left out in the rain too long. When they started to move, they squeaked so bad you could hear them all the way down in Georgia, even though they were in North Dakota. We’re talking mega-cheap not merely cheap or super cheap. You wanted to get a few bucks to see a movie? Yeah. It was easier to go out and find an odd job to raise the money than to squeeze it out of those two rocks. It just wasn’t going to happen. But rather than bore my Platoon Sergeant with all of the painful details, I simply said that my parents couldn’t afford it because they didn’t make much money and they had a lot of mouths to feed. Total bullshit. But he bought it. Hook, line, and sinker. Well, about a week before Christmas, the unit turned into a ghost town. Our mess hall consolidated with the armor Battalion mess hall for meals because so many of the cooks took Christmas leave. There were only about 20 people left in the whole unit after everybody else cleared out for Christmas leave. Most of those soldiers remaining behind were like me. They were soldiers that had been recently assigned to the unit and didn’t have any leave accrued. Then came the duty roster assignments. Great. I could just see myself. I’d be out there pulling guard duty every single got-damn night. There weren’t enough people to have a supernumerary. Every person on duty each night would be pulling duty. My Platoon Sergeant was named the acting first Sergeant during the Christmas holiday season because the company first Sergeant had taken Christmas leave. But then something sort of like a miracle happened. My name appeared on the duty roster as the duty driver every single night. What luck. Every time my Platoon Sergeant sent me out to check on the guards, I picked up a few brewskis (beers) to take out to each of the guards. I figured the beer would help them pass the time on the guard shifts. On Christmas Eve and Christmas Day when my Platoon Sergeant and I were the only two soldiers in the company area other than the guards for the guard shifts, we sat in the orderly room eating cookies and chocolate fudge that my mom had sent to me in a care package. Early in the afternoon, my Platoon Sergeant said, “Private Masters, I have to leave for about an hour and a half, maybe two hours. Do you think you’ll be okay handling things here?” “Yes Platoon Sergeant,” I replied. “Great. If anyone calls, just take a message and make sure you get a telephone number.” “I got it, Sarge. Have a good time and Merry Christmas.” One of the guards came into the orderly room, while the Platoon Sergeant was gone and asked me where the Platoon Sergeant was. I told him that the Platoon Sergeant was out and about checking things. I didn’t want to tell him the truth. Cuz, well, I really didn’t know what the truth was. The other soldier asked me if I was thirsty. That was a dumb question. That was like asking a bird if it could fly. Well okay, if you asked a domesticated chicken if it could fly, you might not get the answer that you were expecting. Likewise, if you asked an ostrich if it could fly, you might not get the answer you were expecting. But most birds could fly. Anyway, I was obviously thirsty. Cuz I think he was hinting at beer. Well, I was pretty damn sure that he was hinting at beer. There was free beer in the mess hall. And the mess hall was open. I said, “Why don’t you go grab us a few cans of beer in the mess hall. And don’t shake it too much on the way back.” So, the other soldier and I drank a few beers to celebrate Christmas and then he had to go back out on guard duty. At least he wouldn’t be feeling any pain while he was out there pulling his shift. My Platoon Sergeant took longer than expected to get back from wherever it was he went. I suspect that he went home to celebrate Christmas with his family. But when he came back, he had a bottle of 12-year-old single malt scotch whiskey. When he sat down, he cracked open the bottle and poured two glasses of whiskey. Then he said, “Private Masters, will you join me?” “Yes, Platoon Sergeant,” I replied. He raised one glass and I raised the other in a joint toast, “Merry Christmas!” Man, that was some damn fine scotch. He poured another round and we started to sip the scotch as it should be drunk. Even though I didn’t get any presents and I didn’t celebrate Christmas with family or relatives, my first Christmas in the Army turned out to be alright. Later, my Platoon Sergeant asked me to go out and check on the guards. I did. But I made one slight detour. I stopped at the day room to buy a bunch of beers. I was going to drink a beer with each of the guards. Those beers were going to be Christmas beers. I was going to help them pull their shifts. It might have been an exercise in futility, but it would help them pass the time and forget that it was a Christmas guard duty shift.
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