Some links may be affiliate links. We get money if you buy something or take an action after clicking one of these links on our site.

Christmas All The Time is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to Amazon.com. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

Hold Up There, Corporal

12/7/2025

“They shall not hurt, nor shall they kill in all my holy mountain, for the earth is filled with the knowledge of the Lord, as the covering waters of the sea.” Gunny Kohn read from Isaiah with a voice as deep and rich as a bassoon solo.

Matt pondered that as the service proceeded. A world at peace would see him home in Laurel Ridge for Christmas. He’d get to see the delight on his relatives’ faces as they opened their treasure boxes. They’d all drink eggnog and spiced apple cider together instead of waving mugs at a webcam.

Of course, if he wasn’t here there’d be no treasure boxes. There would be no Wise Men Trifecta. He would have gone to the Maslov’s in search of something affordable and price checked it at the Galleria.

Could there ever be peace without men in uniform ensuring it remains?

Joe nudged him. “But my feet were almost moved; my steps had well nigh slipped.”

The responsorial psalm. Matt followed along in silence. What is a Marine in a world at peace?

The gunnery sergeant’s powerful voice penetrated his musings. “Now the God of patience and of comfort grant you to be of one mind one towards another, according to Jesus Christ: That with one mind, and with one mouth, you may glorify God and the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Wherefore receive one another, as Christ also hath received you unto the honor of God.”

Matt zoned out until Gunny Kohn said, “The Word of the Lord.”

Everyone stood as the sergeant headed to the keyboard and the major took his place at the lectern.

Matt hung his head and hummed along with the Alleluia.

“…Do penance: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand…”

‘Is it? Signs and portents. Wars and rumors of wars. More of the same, really.’

“…Ye brood of vipers, who hath shewed you to flee from the wrath to come?…”

‘These colors don’t run, sir. I just wonder what peace really looks like.’

“…I indeed baptize you in the water unto penance, but he that shall come after me, is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear; he shall baptize you in the Holy Ghost and fire…”

‘Baptized by fire? Amen. Burn away every unclean thing from me, Lord Jesus. I want to be worthy of whatever you have planned for me.’

“The Gospel of the Lord.” The major declared.

Matt looked toward the crucifix standing on the altar. “Praise to you, Lord Jesus.”

Gary took his place in the side aisle as the organ played Rorate Cæli, but it wasn’t his place. It was his place today.

Myron, well Tina actually, had asked him to switch places.

‘Drop down dew, from above oh heavens, rain down heavenly justice and be comforted. Humpf, easy for you to say.’ Gary held the ciborium as if it was radioactive. It didn’t have the same heft or dimensions as the Communion Cup. There was no cloth to wipe the rim. There was no liquid to avoid spilling.

He was holding a polished silver bowl full of wafers that weighed nothing, yet threatened to crash to the floor as he handed over the Body of Christ into parishioners’ hands. It felt so unbelievably incorrect.

Gary couldn’t bring himself to say it was wrong. He was an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion, and serving the Eucharist couldn’t be wrong. It only felt that way.

Wrong side. Wrong vessel. Wrong substance. Wrong to let Tina guilt him into this.

The organist moved on to O Jezu, w Hastie Utajony. Wrong language. Myron knew the Polish lyrics. He was singing along quietly.

‘Live it up, Myron.’ Gary tried not to scowl as he handed a wafer to Mrs. Tchórz and said, “The Body of Christ.”

He saw Abby and Teddy approaching the altar rail. She lifted the baby’s arm to wave to Grandpa. That made him smile.

“Such a handsome little boy.” Myron added. “I wish my kids would get serious and start giving us some grandkids.”

“You’ll bless the day they start coming.” Gary whispered in reply. “I can’t imagine my life without him.”

“Still no word on…”

Gary shook his head, and the organ played Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence.

‘Lord of Lords in human likeness, in the body and the blood. He will give to all the faithful his own self for heavenly food.’ He looked down at the dwindling collection of wafers and the pangs of incorrectness faded.

He had been struggling with the sensation that he was wearing wool long johns that were laced with itching powder. The overwhelming otherness had nearly driven him to cry out and beg Myron to switch back.

‘As the Light from light descending from the realms of endless day. Comes the powers of hell to vanquish as the darkness clears away.’

“Hold up there, Corporal.” The gate guard waved. “Didn’t you get the briefing? No uniforms and no going out without a buddy.”

“I’m not going out. There’s a delivery coming.” Matt shaded his eyes with his hand.

“They don’t do CraveCycle here, son. If you wait a week or two for this camel thing to blow over, there’s a place just down the block there that does a great bariis with spiced goat.” The guard stood his ground with his arms crossed.

“It’s not takeout. I ordered some Christmas presents for my family from a guy in town. His people called and said they were going to drop them off for me. I wanted to get here before they do so it won’t turn into a big thing.”

“Presents? We’re going to have to check them out. I hope he didn’t wrap them nice.”

“Oh, gee. I don’t think so. It’s supposed to be twenty little trinket boxes with some frankincense, myrrh and a gold-plated doodad inside.”

“Huh, three kings deal. That’s neat. We’ll still need to check them out, but it shouldn’t be a problem. Is this him?”

“I still can’t read Arabic. Maybe?”

“Alright, wait here.” The guard headed to the boom gate. “Good afternoon, sir. May I see your pass?”

“Salaam.”

“Peace to you, sir. Do you have a pass that I can check?”

“No pass. I am here to bring this.” The driver pointed to a box on the passenger seat. “It is for Corporal Jo–” He winced and picked up the paper tucked into the side of the box. “How do you say this? Jo-za?”

“That’s as good a guess as any. I’m going to have you just pull over here for me.”

The driver looked where he was pointing and proceeded slowly to the parking spot.

“Thank you. Can you take the lid off of that for me?”

He reached over and tipped the lid back. It was a carton with twenty little treasure chests in it.

“Excellent, thank you. Just a couple more formalities and we’ll have you on your way. Okay? Bear with me.”

“Okay, okay. Do what you must.” The driver kept his hands on the steering wheel.

After a pass from the K-9 and some investigation of the vehicle registration and driver’s ID, they determined he had no known association with Abna as-Sa‘iqah.

The Abna as-Sa‘iqah or Sons of Thunder had been producing a lot of chatter on YoWut and on monitored channels after the incident with the camel.

Known on base as the Boom Bros, this insurgent group was infamous for noisy displays of indignation. Some of their more recent explosives had caused enough damage to justify the escalated security posture.

The security team brought the box out of the van for close inspection. No wiring. No unexpected devices in the treasure chests. The gifts passed muster, and the driver was sent on his way. The inspection activities and transfer of the package were logged.

“Alright, Corporal. Here’s your stuff.” The guard handed over the box. “Where’d you get these things? That’s a great idea for a Three Kings Day present?”

“This guy with a house in the middle of the souk. Sheikh Ibrahim ibn Tāriq al-Dhāhirī al-Djībūtī. I’m sure he’d enjoy the business, but you might want to get the Chaplain to set up an introduction. He’s pretty old school, this guy.”

“Chaplain, huh? Okay. I’ll touch base. Thanks.”

Matt took his box and headed back to his barracks.

The guard cocked an eyebrow as he watched him leave. He stepped into the guard shack. “Sir, I got another name for us to check into.”

The lieutenant was wiping his eye angrily.

“You okay, sir?”

“Eyelash.” He put his hand down and blinked his eye rapidly to try to wash it out. “What do you have?”

“Sheikh Ibrahim ibn Tāriq al-Dhāhirī al-Djībūtī and it sounds like he’s tight with the chaplain, sir.”

“Which chaplain?”

“Sorry, sir. I didn’t think to ask.”

“Shouldn’t be hard to figure out.” He turned to his monitor and pecked away. “His name was Jozo?”

“J-O-Z-S-A, sir. Marine Corporal.”

“Admin specialist working for Major Melrose, the Catholic Chaplain. Okay, Borland, that’s enough for me to go on. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Yes, sir. You want a cup of water to wash that out?”

Mary Murray sighed. “I can get you a cup of water, but it’s not going to be that much help. This little ornament is going to need a nice soaky bath when you get him home.”

Teddy’s two-tooth grin was even cuter with a face full of sparkling, multicolored glitter freckles. He was still clutching the salt-dough gingerbread man ornament that had decorated his face.

Gary’s attempts to remove the sparkly thing from his little hands were greeted with tears and ornery growling.

“Dad, just let him have it. He’s due for a bath anyway.” Abby packed a box of wooden silhouettes of the church.

“Gary, let’s trade.” Elka said. “Can you put this box on the top shelf, and I’ll take him for a dance?”

He smiled and handed her the baby. She held Teddy’s hand out as if she was waltzing with him and spun away humming the Blue Danube. He peeked into the box to see if it would be heavy, but it was only quilted oven mitts.

He slid it on top of the bookshelf and looked around for something else to help with. “Do you want these in this basket?”

Mary turned to see. “I’ve tried three times already. If you think you can get them to fit, that would be splendid.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” He pulled a chair over beside the basket and stacked up the CD cases. There was a tower of organ music, one of the choir, another of Father Tom reading inspirational articles and a stack of donated Christmas music albums. He started with a layer of CDs. Given the outward slope of the basket, each succeeding layer had a little more room than the previous. “Do we have any rubber bands? We can just secure these last couple for replenishing the basket.”

“Oh, isn’t that splendid? Thank you.” Mary brought him a handful of rubber bands. “Where’s that baby? I want a turn.”

Elka and Teddy waltzed over to Mary, and she handed him over. “He’s a marvelous dancer, Gary.”

He grinned and watched Mary playing got your nose with Teddy. “He’s more fun than a barrel full of monkeys.”

“How are you feeling?” She knelt down beside him. “I heard you had some kind of thing last week. Are you okay?”

“I will be.” He nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m going to be alright.”

“Good. We were all praying for you when we heard.

“I can honestly say that I felt it. Isn’t that funny? People always say that. We’re praying for you, but I actually felt it.”

“That’s good, Gary. I’m glad it helped.” She patted him on the shoulder as she took to her feet. “You are in our prayers, but don’t think we won’t take that Light Fight trophy back from you this year. Staś and Murray have something special planned.”