Twas the night before Christmas, and inside the wire, not a single man slept or kept warm by a fire.
Sandbags were stack around the fox holes with care, for we knew the ememy would soon be there.
The men were all hunkred down low in their beds, with newly cleaned rifles and helmets at head.
And I, in my poncho and my head on my pack, and trying to rest some before the attack.
My claymores were set with plungers in reach, my mags were all loaded with 18 rounds each.
My buddy beside me was shivering cold, his birthday was last week, just 19 years old.
We live back at Pendleton, trained at the bear, we finally perfected our 1000 yard stare.
Then my mind went back home, too the Christmas past, to my wife and family and things that don't last.
With food on the table, the Pheasant with stuffing, the sweet smell of smoke from the pipe Dad was puffing.
The Aunts, the Uncles, the Grandparents too, my dog with his nose across the top of my shoe.
The church in the morning, the carolers singing, the sound of rejoicing with Christmas bells ringing.
Then a brisk walk back home to the gifts under the tree, we couldn't afford much, but loving was free.
Hey, I felt a bit warmer right down to the bone, for the memories of Christmas and the memories at home.
But the warmth wouldn't last as I tried to retire, when out came the cry we got SAPS in the wire.
Merry Christmas to all....
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The Christmas Poem
Twas the Night Before Christmas
He lived all alone,
In a One Bedroom House
Made of Plaster and Stone
I had come down the Chimney
With Presents to Give,
And to see just who In this Home did live.
I looked All About,
A strange Sign did I see,
No Tinsel. No Presents.
Not even a Tree.
No stocking by Mantle,
Just boots filled with sand.
On the wall hung a picture
Of far distant lands.
With Medals and Badges,
Awards of all Kinds
A sober thought
Came through my mind.
For This House was different
It was dark and dreary
I found the Home of a Soldier
Once I could see Clearly.
The Soldier Lay Sleeping
Silent, Alone
Curled up on the floor
Of this One Bedroom Home.
The face was so Gentle
The room in such Disorder
Not how I pictured
A United States Soldier.
Was This The Hero
Of Whom I Just Read?
Curled up on A Poncho
The floor for a bed?
I realized the Families
That I saw This Night,
Owed Their Lives to These Soldiers
Who were willing to fight.
Soon Round the World,
The Children Would Play,
And Grown-ups would Celebrate
A Bright Christmas Day.
They all enjoyed Freedom
Each month of the Year.
Because of the Soldiers
Like the one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder
How many lay alone,
On a cold Christmas Eve
In a land far from Home.
The very thought
Brought a tear to My eye,
I dropped to my knees,
and I started to Cry.
The Soldier awakened
And I heard A rough voice,
Santa don't cry,
This Life is my Choice.
I fight for Freedom,
I don't Ask for More,
My life is My God,
My Country, My Corps.
The Soldier rolled over,
And drifted to sleep,
I couldn't Control it,
I continued to weep.
I Kept watch for hours,
So silent and still.
And we both shivered
From The cold night's chill.
I didn't want to leave
On that cold, dark night,
This Guardian of Honor
So willing to fight.
Then the Soldier rolled over,
With a voice soft and pure,
Whispered "Carry on Santa,
It's Christmas Day, All is Secure."
One look at my watch,
And I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas My Friend,
And To All A Good Night."
<b>"You got me all wrong Mudd...i don't like anyone.</b><img src=newicons/saevil.gif border=0 align=middle>"
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