A doggone Christmas
Christmas and I have had a storied past. Readers may remember my column about Mrs. Palm’s first Christmas with my family (“Finding my place on Christmas,” 2016), or the one about spending two Christmases in Vietnam (“A tale of two Christmases,” 2022).
There was also the Christmas I spent at the Marine Corps Air Station in Iwakuni, Japan. My date that year was a dog. Literally a dog. He was a black lab, and his name was Thebeau (pronounced “Tea Beau”).
It was 1983, and Mrs. Palm and our son were back at the Marine Corps Air Station Cherry Point, in Havelock, North Carolina. I was on a year-long unaccompanied tour of duty, serving as the adjutant of Iwakuni’s Marine Fighter Group 15. For those not in the know, an adjutant is the personal assistant to the commanding officer, and mine was as hardcore and hard-driving as they come. Hence, I’ll refer to him as “Colonel Hardcore” or “HC.” But he had his softer side — mostly regarding his dog.
Hardcore happened to be politically well-connected. The wing commander, a major general, was pulling for HC to make general. And that necessitated frequent, short-notice trips to the wing headquarters on Okinawa. Whenever there was an important visitor or a high-level meeting on Okinawa, the general would call and HC came running — or more accurately, flying — to get some face time and become known on high. On those occasions it fell to me to call a squadron commander and tell him my colonel wanted an airplane — an F4 Phantom jet — right away. He also had to have a radar intercept officer (RIO) flying with him.
The budget was tight back then. Available flight hours were limited. Hence, some squadron pilot and a RIO were knocked off the flight schedule so HC could go politicking on Okinawa. You can imagine how popular relaying HC’s demands made me.
Truth be told, however, I relished those interludes when HC was gone. I got a needed break from catering to his every whim. But what about Thebeau? you’re probably wondering. He, of course, couldn’t go on those flights to Okinawa. Canine oxygen masks, helmets, and parachutes were hard to come by. And not all high-level military movers and shakers are dog lovers.
On these occasions it fell to me and the officer of the day (OD) to look after Thebeau. Since the OD was required to spend the night at group headquarters, Thebeau usually stayed with him. Imagine the OD’s initial logbook entry: “Assumed the duty and took custody of one .45 caliber pistol, eight rounds of ammunition, and one black lab dog.”
Well, that Christmas Eve, my morale was low. I relieved the OD of the dog watch and took Thebeau back to my BOQ room. I heated up my usual dinner of Dinty Moore Beef Stew, washed down with Johnnie Walker, and called Mrs. Palm back in the States — an expensive call back then. Later, Thebeau and I watched Sumo wrestling matches on my 10-inch TV and commiserated about the hardships of military life. I volunteered to be a Marine. Thebeau was conscripted as a pup. Nevertheless, he was a stoical credit to his breed, and he proved to be a good listener. All in all, I’ve had worse Christmases.
Contact Ed Palm at majorpalm@gmail.com.
This article originally appeared on Kitsap Sun: A doggone Christmas
