Did you hear about the big table giveaway at Athenas?

I’m a history junkie, always have been — especially for World War II.

While many people enjoy reading or watching movies about World War II that focus on battles and the like, I have always liked reading about the spies and intelligence operations that were used. Perhaps never before and never again have plans so grand and so audacious been implemented so well. I never thought my interest in the subject would have any practical value in real life.

One of my favorite bits of history was the amazing intelligence coup we pulled over on Germany where we fooled them into thinking that we would actually attack Pas de Calais instead of Normandy.

We did it using copious amounts of misinformation and double agents, and it worked beautifully. It worked so well that when the invasion began, they initially dismissed it as nothing more than a diversion.

But enough of the history lesson. You may remember I mentioned something about all my interest in this stuff being applicable in real, day-to-day life. It just so happened that I had to June 3. So, several weeks in advance, I began my misinformation campaign.

As I sat in my office banging on the computer and while my wife, Glenny, was sitting on the love seat across from me, I casually mentioned that I may need to help my Uncle Mike load up some tables from Athenas Family Restaurant one of these weekends.

Sounds crazy, right? But you’d have to know my Uncle Mike. If there’s a deal to be had, Uncle Mike will know about it. Want the U.S. flag pin off the President’s lapel?

Uncle Mike will work out a deal to get it for you. So the idea that some restaurant in Palmer was handing out free tables and Uncle Mike was in on it didn’t make her bat an eye.

As that Sunday drew near I told Glenny that I would be taking her to Anchorage Sunday night, but that I couldn’t tell her why. In this way, there was enough of an element of mystery that if she got that strange, almost subconscious feeling that something was going on, she would dismiss it as something having to do with the Anchorage trip.

No doubt she thought I was taking her to dinner, right?

On Friday, I had a good friend of ours (double agent No. 1) call Glenny and invite us to a barbecue on Sunday. Glenny held the phone to her ear while asking me, “Aren’t we going to Anchorage on Sunday? They’re inviting us to a barbecue.”

I put on my straightest face and replied, “Yes, we are, but not until late afternoon. What time is their barbecue?”

As had been pre-arranged, our friend told Glenny it was at 1 p.m., and I replied that yes, we could go, but only stay for a couple hours.

So now we had our excuse to be out of the house by 1 and on our way somewhere. Also, since Glenny thought we were going to a nice dinner or some such in Anchorage later in the day, she had her hair curled, make-up done, etc. Time for phase three of my plan.

As we were driving to our friend’s barbecue (supposedly), I reached into my left jacket pocket and hit the send button on my phone. This sent out the pre-typed text to my sister-in-law (double agent No. 2) that it was “go time.” Within 30 seconds of my hitting the button, Glenny’s phone rang.

Glenny listened for a minute and then looked at me and said, “Uncle Mike and your brother are at Athenas right now looking at tables. They say if we want one, to swing by and pick one out and they’ll drop it off at the house.”

And so that little tidbit I had tossed out a week or so earlier about the free table giveaway was now paying off. I replied in a fake exasperated tone and heavy sigh, “Fine, but we’ll have to hurry,” and then mumbled something about too much going on, don’t have the time for this, blah blah, blah.

I said all the usual classic running-behind-schedule-and-Ben-is-complaining stuff that my wife knows so well. But in actuality, everything was running right on time and according to plan.

We walked into Athenas (me walking quickly like I do when I’m in a hurry and “just want to get this over with”).

“We’re here to look at some tables that I guess you’re …” I said to the lady at the front counter.

“Oh yes, they’re in that back room. Go ahead,” she politely interjected.

(I had called her while Glenny was in the shower and given her instructions on what to say when we got there and I asked the bizarre question.)

I walked behind Glenny as we entered the back room and found, gathered around several large tables, most of our friends and family.

It took Glenny a second. It didn’t really register. But once they all yelled, “SURPRISE!!!” she got it. She was more startled than I had ever seen her. She smiled big and gave me a playful slap on the arm as I told her that no, there was no barbecue (the friends who had invited us were actually right there at the party), there was no trip to Anchorage, and for Pete’s sake there certainly was no free table giveaway!

My wife was turning 40 and had never in her life had a surprise party.

I had done it. I had pulled off the impossible. I fooled my extremely intelligent wife, who knows me better than anybody on the planet, into walking into a backroom at a restaurant on her birthday without suspecting that there might be a party waiting inside.

I still cannot believe I actually pulled that off. Doubt I ever will be able to duplicate that, but I may try again on her 50th.

Ben Compton is a Palmer resident and publishes his column as “Compton’s Corner,” the same title used by his grandmother, Phyllis Compton, a longtime Frontiersman columnist.