A memoir of a Vietnam veteran
I set my camera up to take a picture of it all. The lights did their best to add color to the flat, olive green drabness of the tent. A string of three starlight shells burst from the perimeter and seemed to hang above us. Bright gold, they drifted in the wind and seemed to beckon us like the star which guided the Wise Men.
Willy entered the tent, �Hey, Lieutenant, Wayne and I are going over to the chapel in Third Brigade area for candle light service. Why don�t you join us?�
The chapel was nothing more than a GP medium over a concrete pad. As I recall it was not protected by the usual buffer walls of sand filled empty ammunition boxes. The side flaps were rolled up so that the top and the poles were visible. We were each handed a small candle as we entered. We sat together, and listened to the Christmas message. The lights were turned off and a single candle blazed on the alter. The Chaplin lit his candle from it and then lit the candle of a soldier in the first row, who passed the light on to the man on his left. The warm glow spread slowly through the tent until it glowed like the illumination rounds we had seen earlier. We sang several Christmas carols and prayed.
From the perimeter came the chatter of small arms. Two loud pops followed as our outposts fired off illumination rounds. The small arms fire intensified, close enough that we could hear the pops of the friendly M-16s and the cracks of the enemy�s AK-47s. A few seconds passed and then came the distinctive �thud, thud, thud, thud, thud�thud, thud, thud, thud, thud� of the big fifty caliber machine gun.
Here we were, celebrating the arrival of the Prince of Peace, and just outside the perimeter a small fire fight was storming. Was war stronger than Christmas?
I took it to heart. I thought about my luck, that I was well within the perimeter and that others were risking their necks so that I could enjoy this ceremony. I thought about my family and wished that I could let go of my confusion and anger about them. I realized that for all our differences we were family and we cared about each other. I thought of my good fortune to have Willy and Wayne, good friends, to share these days with and to help me through this experience. Finally, I thought about Sergeant Jay Smith.
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