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Navy blankets teach a great life lesson

4 min read

The well-to-do people had wrought iron, wicker, or wooden Adirondack chairs. We had wool Army blankets. These itchy blankets were a big part of my youth. There were plenty of them around after World War II. Army surplus stores sold them for the rock-bottom price of about $5. Hardly used vintage Army blankets from that time are selling now on eBay for as high as $80, which is about $20 more than that $5 was worth then.

Upon discharge from the Army, my uncles must have brought a blanket or two home because there always seemed to be a few of them around. Our outings were synonymous with those dark green, wool blankets. The grown-ups spread them out on the ground. We had our picnic lunches, dried out after swimming, or just waited for the fire in the fire ring. We used them on Memorial Day, the Fourth of July, Labor Day, and every swimming or Sunday afternoon picnic day between May and September.

Have any of you ever smelled a wet, wool Army blanket? It was not an easily forgotten aroma. The smell was somewhere between cooked liver and wet dog. No matter, they were efficient and that was all that counted. We also used them in our big canvas Army surplus tents while sleeping on our Army surplus cots. Those tents slept six.

Unfortunately, that tent canvas was not flawless. When you touched it during a rainstorm, it leaked. And, of course, young boys touched it multiple times. Some of you know what happened next. Drip, drip, drip would be the aquatic symphony for the night. By morning puddles of water were everywhere. No one ever accused us of being smart.

When I was approaching my teen years, the new fad in outdoor seating was lightweight, fold-up, easy-to-store aluminum chairs. These chairs had multicolored bands of plastic woven horizontally and vertically across the aluminum frames. They reserved these chairs for our parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. The biggest challenge they presented came when they were outside during a storm. After the storm, we would usually find them in the neighbors’ yard.

The Navy’s blankets were the same but different. They were, of course, Navy blue itchy blankets. They were not as plentiful, but you could still find them here and there.

A family story that comes to mind occurred a year or two after our son was born. I had a full-time teaching job, and my wife was substitute teaching. Six weeks before Christmas, her mom called and told her only child that she had bought us two incredible gifts for Christmas. Because it would spoil the surprise, she could not tell us any more than that.

Imagine being twentysomething new parents with zero money. We thought about every gift you could think of. Was it matching cars? Could it be a new washer and dryer? Did they get us tickets to New York City for our anniversary or two gift coupons to a fancy dinner in a restaurant on Mt. Washington? Our imaginations went wild for the weeks before Christmas.

When the day finally arrived, and we received the wrapped gifts, they felt soft and pliable. We thought they had gotten us some stylish, expensive, soft-leather jackets. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. When we finally opened them, we simultaneously gasped. The secret gifts were matching itchy, wool, blue Navy blankets. It does not get any better than that.

Truthfully, that was a great lesson. It taught us to manage our expectations. We got years of use out of those gifts they gave from the heart. It was also a lesson in practicality. What would we have possibly done with some stupid cars, fancy dinners, or a new washer and dryer?

Nick Jacobs is a Windber resident.

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