We lived in tents at Fort Jackson that winter (1967). We were out training in an ice storm that shut the city of Columbia.

I was told that we only came back to our tents when one of the chaplains interceded for us. He really stuck his neck out for us, maybe even bent a regulation or two. I am grateful to him to this day, though I never saw him or knew his name.

That ice storm caused the local Marine Reserve unit to cancel its meeting that evening. The announcement, heard on a pocket radio someone had, received the appropriate commentary.

We did get home for Christmas, though. Lined up in Dress Greens with Flying Saucer caps, AWOL bags and all, we stood in the twilight. One man from another platoon started singing "Amen" from Lilies of the Field. Soon about 700 men were singing along with him.

I did not see that man or know his name, but I am grateful to him too, and I will never forget him either.