A Poem to Pass On
Picked this up in the e-mail today, attributed to a soldier out serving in warmer places. I put it here rather than start a new thread, seeing as this thread has a tone of humility and due recognition to it this morning. All the author has asked is that we do him the kind favour of passing it on as much as possible. Maybe a journo could publish it? I understand it's recent, apols if duff gen.
Its Christmas Day - All Is Secure
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 enjoy 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'.