A soldier's silent night


  • 2018 2017 '16 '11 Moderator

    As I do every year, I post my favorite Christmas Poem to wish you all a very Merry Christmas!

    This year, I include a link to YouTube so you can listen to the music that has always accompanied this poem (in my mind at least.): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8D-OL-KQOt4

    _Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
    In a one bedroom house made of plaster & 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 the fire, 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, so dark and dreary,
    I knew I had found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.

    I heard stories about them, I had to see more
    So I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
    And there he lay sleeping silent alone,
    Curled up on the floor in his one bedroom home.

    His face so gentle, his room in such disorder,
    Not how I pictured a United States soldier.
    Was this the hero of whom I’d just read?
    Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

    His head was clean shaven, his weathered face tan,
    I soon understood this was more than a man.
    For I realized the families that I saw that night
    Owed their lives to these men who were willing to fight.

    Soon ‘round the world, the children would play,
    And grownups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
    They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
    Because of soldiers like this one lying here.

    I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone
    On a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from home.
    Just 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.”

    With that he rolled over and drifted off into sleep,
    I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.
    I watched him for hours, so silent and still,
    I noticed he shivered from the cold night’s chill.

    So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
    And I covered this Soldier from his toes to his head.
    And I put on his T-shirt of gray and black,
    With an eagle and an Army patch embroidered on back.

    And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
    And for a shining moment, I was United States Army deep inside.
    I didn’t want to leave him on that cold dark night,
    This guardian of honor so willing to fight.

    Then the soldier rolled over, whispered with a voice so clean and pure,
    “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!_

    A Marine stationed in Okinawa, Japan wrote this poem. (Allegedly, from what I have been told, in other words, don’t go b*tch’n and moan’n that some yahoo in Uzbekistan who was constipated on a Monday morning wrote it, I was told it was a Marine in Okinawa, Japan and that’s who I am giving credit too until informed otherwise.)


  • Moderator

    Merry Christmas, Jen! Thanks for sharing; I enjoy reading it each time you post it.

    GG


  • 2020 2019 2018 2017 '16 '15 '14 '13 Moderator

    Happy Christmas all.
    Maddy woke at 6(an hour ago),  so we are down in the front room, cosy and happy.


  • 2019 2018 2017 '16

    Merry Christmas Jen and to everybody else.
    Ja, thank you for sharing. Frohe Weihnachten!



  • @Cmdr:

    As I do every year, I post my favorite Christmas Poem to wish you all a very Merry Christmas!

    This year, I include a link to YouTube so you can listen to the music that has always accompanied this poem (in my mind at least.): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8D-OL-KQOt4

    _With medals and badges, awards of all kind
    A sober thought came through my mind.
    For this house was different, so dark and dreary,
    I knew I had found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.

    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.”

    So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
    And I covered this Soldier from his toes to his head.
    And I put on his T-shirt of gray and black,
    With an eagle and an Army patch embroidered on back._

    A Marine stationed in Okinawa, Japan wrote this poem. (Allegedly, from what I have been told, in other words, don’t go b*tch’n and moan’n that some yahoo in Uzbekistan who was constipated on a Monday morning wrote it, I was told it was a Marine in Okinawa, Japan and that’s who I am giving credit too until informed otherwise.)

    I had to look it up because the emboldened items are not congruent.  Apparently a Marine wrote it for Leathernecks magazine, and others have come behind and modified it, like this one.  Here’s the original:
    Merry Christmas, My Friend

    _Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
    In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.

    I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
    and to see just who in this home did live

    As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
    no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
    No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.
    On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.

    With medals and badges, awards of all kind,
    a sobering thought soon came to my mind.
    For this house was different, unlike any I’d seen.
    This was the home of a U.S. Marine.

    I’d heard stories about them, I had to see more,
    so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
    And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone,
    Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.

    He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,
    Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
    Was this the hero, of whom I’d just read?
    Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

    His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan.
    I soon understood, this was more than a man.
    For I realized the families that I saw that night,
    owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.

    Soon around the Nation, the children would play,
    And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
    They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,
    because of Marines like this one lying here.

    I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone,
    on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.
    Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.
    I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.

    He must have awoken, for 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.”

    With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep,
    I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.

    I watched him for hours, so silent and still.
    I noticed he shivered from the cold night’s chill.
    So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
    and covered this Marine from his toes to his head.
    Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,
    with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.
    And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
    and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.

    I didn’t want to leave him so quiet in the night,
    this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
    But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure,
    said “Carry on, Santa, it’s Christmas Day, all secure.”
    One look at my watch and I knew he was right,
    Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight._

    Credit to Snopes.


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