by Gregg Chadwick
My father in law Ralph Heilemann is in hospice care at home with my sister in law in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. As Dad Heilemann gets ready to move on to another form, space, or place — I wanted to post this highly fictionalized tale of his US Navy days that I wrote for his 90th Birthday.
Fair winds and following seas, shipmate. We have the watch.
Mission Classified. Possibly originating from the harbor of Yokosuka, near Yokohama just outside of Tokyo, in post World War II Japan on Christmas Eve.
Official Mission Logs Redacted by order of Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers (SCAP) General MacArthur, Acting Headquarters, Dai Ichi Life Insurance Building, Tokyo.
The United States occupation was in full swing and Ralph Heilemann was there. As an electrician onboard a United States Navy cruiser on a hush-hush mission to map the entirety of the Japanese coastline, Seaman Heilemann was deep into the electronic guts of his naval warship. Or was he already an Ensign — difficult to tell from the still hidden logs of his mission.
A long way from Milwaukee but close to Akihabara, Ralph Heilemann knew that he had to replenish his electronic stores before setting off for more remote harbors. Skilled at bartering from his days on the farm in Helenville, Wisconsin — Seaman Heilemann gathered his Naval rations and exchanged them for much more than a bag of beans. Dodging the white striped helmets of the United States Military Police and with Transistor Tubes in hand, Heilemann skulked his way back on board his ship rocking gently in the grey night. Close by, the giant Buddha of Kamakura stood watch as it had for hundreds of years.
Morale was low onboard ship and among the defeated Japanese populace. Rations were cut, food was scarce, water was hoarded. But a desire to keep living still beat in the hearts of all in this lackluster Christmas season. Somehow Heilemann knew that this Xmas was up to him. Tele-typed from high command perhaps? Or whispered along the docks at night? Or maybe Nat King Cole had slipped a recording to the ship’s crew before it set sail. (https://youtu.be/jcttnJQBzQ0) But that cold Japanese night much more than sweet potatoes would be roasting. Heilemann had chestnuts and musical notes in store.
With bartered electronic parts in hand, Heilemann slipped into the conning tower of his ship and relayed a hot wire to his newly acquired turntable. Levels were set on high. He barred the door to keep prying eyes away and set the needle on a spinning platter. With a hiss and a scratch, a voice burst forth across the bay. To this day some say it sounded like a choir of angels:
“Chestnuts roasting on an open fire,
Jack Frost nipping on your nose,
Yuletide carols being sung by a choir,
And folks dressed up like Eskimos.”
Before the second verse, the Lieutenant was banging on the door. But the music played on across the harbor. Many say it grew louder -
“Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe,
Help to make the season bright.
Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow,
Will find it hard to sleep tonight.”
Before the third verse, the Commander was banging on the door. And the music played on across the harbor. Many say it grew even louder -
“They know that Santa’s on his way;
He’s loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh.
And every mother’s child is going to spy,
To see if reindeer really know how to fly.”
Before the fourth verse, the Captain was banging on the door. And the music played on across the harbor. Many say it grew even louder -
“And so I’m offering this simple phrase,
To kids from one to ninety-two,
Although it's been said many times, many ways,
A very Merry Christmas to you”
And after the final verse, the Admiral was on the horn. “Keep that music playing Heilemann”, he said. And many say it grew even louder as everyone on shore and onboard ship sang together.
All I know is that Ralph Heilemann needs to keep on singing. Keep playing that music Dad! Happy 90th Birthday!
