CHRISTMAS OVERSEAS
When, in the days of World War II, I was among those shipped to England from Virginia by way of Florida, Camp Shanks, N.Y. and New York City's busy Pier 90 on the Queen Mary, we all realized it meant Christmas of that year would be away from home.
Ours was a small group bound for England, we found. We number one hundred an nine and we were formed as specialized units for the distinct purposes of making new airbases operable or in re-establishment of air bases which had been bombed out bringing them back for use by our own bombers and other aircraft.
They were called “Station Complement Squadrons”and they were usually formed on a basis of four qualified persons for each of various types essential needs: communications, for example, with people such as telephone operators, switchboard mechanics, linesmen, etc. Typists, teletypewriter operators ( my niche) and mechanic for everything associated with the work to be done; code-qualified people and and transit equipment operators, mechanics, supply personnel and supplies as well as others needed to put the base in operational order. More than once I was amazed at the flexible nature of some of the work those men were called upon to do.
Our Christmas arrived in the First week of February. I visited Norwich Cathedral on my first visit to “town”.It was there that I felt the presence of the Christmas spirit. We observed it officially on February 2nd when our duffel bags - both “A” and “B” arrived at the same time following us from the states. We also received our first real mail, which that for the Christmas season. My box from home contained a one-foot crushable Christmas tree mounted on a solid wooden base, which we set up in the hut for a week. One cold, damp night when our strictly rations one bucket per week of precious cake for the dinky, little stove was gone we sacrificed that tree to the flames. It, as a symbol, brought us warmth we welcomed and needed.
The next Christmas was different, I remember. .By that time we had English family friends and we visited their homes or joined them at the neighborhood pub and joined in their celebrations.
Looking back, then, I find that I have missed only one Christmas out of my eighty-seven, which is not bad at all. Some have been under rather odd circumstances, but with friends - new and old which, to me, is the part of Christmas seasons we remember.
A.L.M. December 24, 2003 [c461wds]
