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This story brings out my charitable side. I would like to assume the burden of storing these pieces free of charge to all parties involved. I would be willing to provide safe storage of these pieces indefinitely. If need be I would even cover the financial cost, of having the proper documentation drawn up, to tranfer ownership to me. In his advanced years the owner shouldn’t have to deal with the strain of fighting the government. My charitable act would also save the German tax payers money.

@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.

Try replacing your saline solution with hydrogen peroxide, seems to sting less than looking at it!

Oh, okay. I assume de la Rey is from South Africa (considering the Afrikaans and General de la Rey, the Boer general).

When i was about 18 i went to Tahoe/Reno area and was thinking to myself “this road is rather narrow and winding and id hate to be caught in the rain out here…” About 30 seconds latter it started to rain. Then my next thought was  “ah this road is going to be slippery not to mention its got lots of turns…” I then decided not to test fate further and slowed down to like 25 miles an hour and after about a minute of driving uber slow the car lost total control and rolled off a cliff that was about 20 feet down on a slow draping and soft slope. I could not believe my luck.

Of course i called a cop and when he should up 15 minutes latter all he did was give me a ticket ( for unsafe driving) and leave after i told him i was ok. my 84 Z-28 Camaro was wasted.

The thing was i really was thinking i had better drive safe and deliberately going at a snails space when the car lost it.

it was weird.

@Cmdr:

bump for the new year.

Merry Christmas everyone (or your respective holiday season.)

Thank you.

LOL… I"m listening to Hellbilly Deluxe right now  :evil:

the name was “John Doe”

i too liked it
my fav tho was futurama. shame that didnt make it