The Blue Lantern Tale or Holiday Espionage

Another holiday tale, but set in Destin. The time is December, 1944 and the place is a very different world from our beaches today. The beaches of South Walton and Okaloosa Counties were remote, unpopulated, and near the world's largest military base (Eglin). The waters of the Gulf offered the perfect spot for lurking German submarines and spies, from which the occasional field reconnaissance mission was launched. An old seafood house called The Blue Lantern was located at Destin, right on Old U.S. 98 and the beach below it featured nothing but palmetto shrubs and scrub oaks. Once a week, a man of few words (but impeccably spoken English) came into The Blue Lantern for a good meal and a few drinks, always alone and no car. On this particularly cold December night, the gentleman had oysters and a few beers, a steak and lobster platter with a few whiskeys, and because the night was cold and the holidays were near, a healthy brandy for the road. As he paid his check at the front counter, the waitress bid him good night, and the well dressed, well-fed gentleman clicked his heels as he left. The restaurant owner, a German immigrant, recognized this affectation and called the sheriff. Before our gentleman could reach the shore and his boat, he was arrested. His submarine left without him, apparently. This man was kept in military brig at Eglin until after World War II ended, then released. He was a German agent from a German submarine ship that patrolled the Gulf shores. The Blue Lantern, a simple restaurant located alongside a "No-Tell Motel" kinda place, closed around 20 years ago. But as recently as four years ago, the well spoken gentleman from the submarine was still living in the Destin/Ft. Walton area, his identity having been revealed by a simple click of the heels.

I have never been a Paul Harvey fan. In fact, I thought he had been dead for years. Perhaps the people who told this story were Paul Harvey fans. They certainly weren't sophisticates, probably just good storytellers. I heard this tale from a number of people during my childhood down there and once visited the restaurant. Guess someone will have to come up with a dry, existentialist tale for you, Bob. Or possibly something more Disney-esque. End of story, in any event.