Walter Troyan, a teenage sailor aboard the USS Denver in December, 1944, thanked God he and his fellow sailors had come out alive after enduring 140 mph winds from Typhoon Cobra. He’d learned the storm had sunk three destroyers, killed 790 sailors, damaged nine other warships, and swept dozens of aircraft overboard off their aircraft carriers. And now he faced yet another battle, the Mindoro Operation, added to the scores of others since he’d boarded the light cruiser in 1942.

The battle went according to plan with a number of other support warships against Japanese resistance. The Americans secured the central Philippine Island within forty-eight hours. As a gunner, Walter fired his 40-millimeter gun with ferocity and courage; nevertheless, he fought his own personal battles amid the chaos of the war—worry, homesickness, fatigue, and fear.

His heart lightened, however, when his ship returned to Manus Island in New Guinea for replenishments, including a Christmas Day celebration. When programs were distributed, he grabbed one. He read the menu and smiled—roasted turkey, steamed rice, sage dressing, mashed potatoes with giblet gravy, cranberry jelly, peas, rolls, creamed tomato soup, and pumpkin pie. A much larger dinner than he was accustomed to. Walter looked forward to the Christmas Carol Sing-Along that would come later in the evening.

Sitting down at his table with a tray full of food, he asked his buddies, “Did you fellows see our Christmas tree?”

“Yep,” Alvin scooted in next to Walter. “I never thought I’d see a Christmas tree made out of a cut broom handle with cigars for branches.”

“Yeah, and only red and green paper bulbs,” Eddie said. “But at least we got one.”

Walter chowed down on his steaming turkey and dressing.

“Here it is Christmas Day, and my folks don’t know if I’m dead or alive,” Buster said, then slurped his coffee.

“Oh, come on, don’t talk like that.” Walter took a bite of his potatoes and grabbed his roll.

“Well, it’s true. Do your parents know if you’re dead or alive?”

Walter glared at Buster at first, then softened up. “We need to be thinking of the Christ child today.”

Silence.

“Yeah, Walter’s right,” Eddie said. “We know we’re alive. It’s Christmas. Let’s enjoy our food.”

“Well, if you ask me, with everything we’ve endured, we ought to be thinking about the baby Jesus and be thankful.” Walter swiped his mouth. “We have light duties today. Maybe we should all write a letter to home to let our folks know we’re okay.”

Following Walter’s encouragement, many of the sailors headed to their berths to do just that.

When it came time for the Christmas Carol Sing-Along, many of the sailors were moved to tears. “Silent Night” and “Away in a Manger” brought messages of hope to the weary crew who had been on board the USS Denver for three years.

Before he went to bed, Walter pulled the Christmas program out of his pocket again and read the published message from Admiral Nimitz.

“This fourth wartime Christmas finds the fighting men of the Pacific Fleet and Pacific Ocean Areas far from homes and loved ones. But there is comfort in the knowledge that the extent of our distance from home is a measure of our success in beating back the aggressor, Japan, and that through our joint efforts, all danger to our homes and family has been removed. We may look forward to this new year assured that it will drive us closer to victory and peace. In the reestablishment of this peace, all of you brave and skilled men will have a share. That is the priceless gift you are earning for your loved ones and all future generations.”

Walter climbed onto his rack and thought, A priceless gift? Yes, my own children will live in peaceful times for what we’ve all fought for. I’ll share these stories with my children someday. We will build a life of peace, not war.

When the war ended, Walter married his sweetheart, Alberta. Together, they raised four daughters and celebrated Christmas for many years in times of peace, always remembering the Christ Child as a family. But he never forgot the battle-weary Christmases he celebrated aboard his ship.

 Written by Becky Troyan Van Vleet, Walter’s daughter