The "evidence" was Christmas stockings, one on each of our beds.
And who is "we?"
We is myself (your humble storyteller) and my (then - then being December of '85) roommate, Senior Airmen Stan "the Batman" Jackson.
Ok, let me back this story up a bit.
Stan was a colorful character, but what was most interesting was that he bore a striking resemblance to the comic strip character Andy Capp when he was out of uniform (or even when he was in uniform), especially when he wore the hat!
So it was Christmas eve, 1985. Like a lot of GIs, then and now, we were away from our friends and families at Christmas time...
Well, not entirely true. We had each other. You'd have to have been in the military to completely understabd, but the guys you served with were more than just co-workers, they were your military family.
So Christmas eve, after finishing the duty day we went to our room to watch the Thundercats...
...and then went down for food at the chow hall, where Stan and I contemplated what to do with our evening.
It was a short contemplation. The answer was the Airman's Club. It was downstairs, which meant we didn't need to drive anywhere, which meant we could drink as much as we wanted because we didn't have to worry about DUI coming back from wherever we weren't going to go. And since Christmas was a non-duty day, the Club would be open until 2am - 4 extra drinking hours!
Now, it's not as bad as you might think. The Club had a Christmas eve buffet, there was dancing, a pool tournament and other games. Stan and I played darts...
"Real" darts, with steel tips. Not those plastic tips they use now - we lived dangerously back then.
It was actually a rather nice event. It wasn't just heavy drinking, it was moderate.
OK, it was more than moderate. But we weren't driving, OK?
At 2am the club closed and we all left. Stan and I went upstairs to our room, and that's where we come to the part of my story that I started this blog entry with.
Upon entering the room, we noticed evidence that our room had been entered by someone besides us (we were elsewhere, drinking).
The "evidence" was Christmas stockings, one on each of our beds.
Stan went over to his bed and picked up the stocking, examined it, the looked at me and said "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot."
That isn't actually what he said. What he actually said was something more colloquial.
Those who were in the military know what Whiskey Tango Foxtrot means (and what the Batman actually said).
We examined our stockings. They were the mesh type you could get at any store, full of nuts and candy. Nice gift, I suppose, except there was no tag that said Merry Christmas from whoever.
Was it possible that there really was a Santa Claus?
"You guys got a stocking too?" he asked.
Upon returning to his room, Mac had found a stocking on his bed. So did, we discovered, everyone else in the barracks.
Could Santa be real?
The chow hall had a rather nice dinner for us later that day - turkey AND ham, plus a wide assortment of side dishes like stuffing, mashed potato and gravy, salads (green, potato, and fruit salads), sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, assorted nuts, and a variety of holiday pies. All and all, not a bad way to spend Christmas.
And after dinner? The Airman's Club. But only until 10 as the 26th was a duty day.
Oh, and where did the stockings come from? According to Jack Bishop, the dorm supervisor, our First Sergeant intercepted him Christmas Eve coming back from a date with his girlfriend. He (the First Sergeant) was full of the Christmas spirit (literally - Jack said he was afraid to light a cigarette because of the whiskey fumes) and after Jack got out the master dorm room key, the two of them went from room to room distributing four cases of Christmas stockings which the First Sergeant had apparently purchased earlier that day which he had stored in the back of his car.
Merry Christmas, sir.
