Christmas Eve 1950 was more than a joyous occasion on board the light aircraft carrier USS Bataan (CVL-29). We were the living, with hopes for tomorrow. Hungnam lay behind us; the sea the terminus of a winding bloodstained road from the Chosin Reservoir. In northeast Korea, neat rows of white wooden crosses marked the cemetery of the First Marine Division. The voices of 1,700 sinners and a few saints rose in praise as the Bataan forged through the black night and the frigid waters of the Sea of Japan. Father John Coffey held the host aloft while the bells rang. Kids wearing navy blue and forest green knelt on the hangar deck to give thanks for an uncertain future. Corsair fighter-bombers of Marine Fighter Squadron (VMF) 212 stood in the dark nave of the steel cathedral. Red and green wing lights adorned the branches of a stunted Christmas tree that had been delivered by the faithful fleet oiler Cimarron (AO-22).
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