Christmas Poems
The following are two poems about our
soldiers and the Christmas season.
When we were in Vietnam the unit commanders tried to limit operations on
Christmas day but roads still had to be cleared and essential operations
continued.
We are home now, at least most of us, and the poems below are a reminder of what
we did many years ago. They are also a reminder that many have taken our place
and stand ready to protect us.
Most soldiers will stand down on Christmas day and enjoy a special meal but
roads still have to be cleared and essential operations will continue.
'TWAS THE NIGHT
BEFORE CHRISTMAS
This poem has been forwarded to me by many 15th vets and has been in
circulation for many seasons
A Soldier's
Christmas
Paul Kasper very recently (12/00) forwarded this poem
Click on the title and use your BACK button to return here or just scroll down the page
'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
‘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 SIGHT I DID SEE,
NO
TINSEL, NO PRESENTS,
NOT
EVEN A TREE.
NO
STOCKING BY MANTLE,
JUST
BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,
ON
THE WALL HUNG PICTURES
OF
FAR DISTANT LANDS.
WITH
MEDALS AND BADGES,
AWARDS
OF ALL KIND,
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
IN
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'D 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
GROWNUPS 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
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."
in
Okinawa Japan.
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
my daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree, I believe,
completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep
in perfect contentment, or so it would seem.
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eye when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,
Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
and I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts,
to the window that danced with a warm fire's light
then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night"
"Its my duty to stand at the front of the line,
that separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures; he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red white and blue... an American flag.
"I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home,
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat,
I can carry the weight of killing another
or lay down my life with my sisters and brothers
who stand at the front against any and all,
to insure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone.
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
to know you remember we fought and we bled
is payment enough, and with that we will trust.
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.
December
7th, 2000
marksman@patriot.net
