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Christmas poem for all forces over seas

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  • Member since
    April 2004
  • From: Georgia
Posted by Screaminhelo on Saturday, December 23, 2006 6:24 PM

Give those guys a big Merry Christmeas for me Frank

Mac

P.S.
Frank, I just noticed that you live in the Triad.  My sister is in Winston Salem, I LOOOOVE the Moriavian bakery in Old Salem.

Mac

I Didn't do it!!!

  • Member since
    December 2002
  • From: Valrico, FL
Posted by HeavyArty on Saturday, December 23, 2006 4:14 PM

I love that poem and have for some years.

 Merry Christmas to all. 

To our brothers in the sands of the Middle East,  keep your heads low and stay safe.

 

HOOOAAAHH!!

Gino P. Quintiliani - Field Artillery - The KING of BATTLE!!!

Check out my Gallery: https://app.photobucket.com/u/HeavyArty

"People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf." -- George Orwell

  • Member since
    July 2003
  • From: Piedmont Triad, NC (USA)
Posted by oldhooker on Saturday, December 23, 2006 10:35 AM

Thanks Rich! Thumbs Up [tup]

I have three from our family who will be in the sand this Christmas...

The other night on the phone my daughter asked Kevin if there was any way he was going to be able to be home Christmas, and Kev replied; "Sweetheart, I have to be over here so you CAN have a Christmas at home."

Merry Christmas to ALL, and to ALL a goodnight! Smile [:)]  Semper Fi

Take care,

Frank

 

  • Member since
    April 2004
  • From: Georgia
Posted by Screaminhelo on Saturday, December 23, 2006 8:33 AM

I love this in all of it's versions.  Read the original version by LCpl. James Schmidt here
MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND

This poem seems to strike a chord with service members everywhere.  I have seen Army, Air Force, Navy and now British Army versions.  It is moving in all of it's variations.

Mac

Mac

I Didn't do it!!!

  • Member since
    November 2005
  • From: Southport, North West UK
Christmas poem for all forces over seas
Posted by richgb on Saturday, December 23, 2006 8:09 AM

This poem appeared in one of our daily tabloid newspapers The Sun, not exactly well lnown in the litary world for fine pieces of writing, but then again they didn't write this,  only printed it. No one knows who wrote this or indeed when it was written. Some think as far back as WWII. It's apparantly circulating around UK forces at the moment but I suppose it could apply to all forces fighting overseas away from their families. I know it's sentimental and slushy....but hey...it's Christmas. Kleenex is optional.

Rich 

'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 the mantle,
Just boots filled with sand,

On the wall hung pictures
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
In this one-bedroom home.

The face was so gentle
The room in such disorder,

Not how I pictured
A lone British soldier.

Was this the hero
Of whom I'd just read?

Curled up on a poncho,
The floor for a bed?

I realised 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 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 sat and shivered,
From the cold night's chill.

I didn't want to leave
On that cold, dark night,

This guardian of honour,
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."

...this is it folks...over the top!
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