Soildier's Christmas

[flipster]

Someone may have already posted this, if so, apologies. However, I have just picked this poem from my in-box, along with as a request to 'pass it on'. It certainly is a most poignant poem - it really struck a chord with me anyway and I thought I might share it with you.

Seasons greetings to everyone, especially to all soldiers, sailors and airmen (and women) serving overseas, when you should be at home.

A soldiers christmas

It's Christmas Day, All Is Secure."
T'was 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 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 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 & 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."

[SASless]

This is a similar work by Michael Marks.

A SOLDIER'S CHRISTMAS

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 "It's 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."

[Blacksheep]

There's never been a truer word written about the armed forces than these:

I Went into a public 'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:

O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it’s "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,—
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,—
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.

Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.

Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,—
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;

While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind",
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind,—
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there’s trouble in the wind.

You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool—you bet that Tommy sees!

Rudyard Kipling


Many people may disagree with the dirty job that Tony B Liar has given our armed forces, but Tony B Liar is our own fault. Thank heavens for good old Tommy Atkins, doing his duty out there, as he always has and, God willing, he always will.

Happy New Year to those who sleep in tents with a gun at their side, and...
...Thank You.

[flipster]

Oh yes, mr bliar, you can bet that "Tommy sees"!

[dallas]

This link did the rounds last year - haven't seen it so far: http://www.soldierworks.com/untilthen.htm
It's one of the few apolitical montages I've seen showing the US Forces as simply people trying to survive. Personally, I think we need to see more of the human side - I'm a bit tired of 'GI Joe kicking butt' propaganda, while all he seems to do is lose his buddies... :(

[SASless]

Dallas,
I posted the link to that video. It is a tribute to the Troops in Afghanistan and Iraq. It honours their service and sacrifice.
I made it quite clear in my initial post that it was "American" but was symbolic of all of the Coalition forces engaged in this fight against terrorism.
After viewing the video I felt it was very worthwhile to ensure folks here had a chance to see a tribute to their service.


Perhaps if the drive-by media would show the good things our friends are doing there....and accept the fact they are real people and not merely something to make mock of....we might then get a much better idea of what is really going on there.

All the media want to see is the score board of deaths....and celebrate every time a "thousand" increment is surpassed.


Would it not be refreshing if they did in-depth reporting of the sacrifices our friends and their families are making out of devotion to their duty and country instead of a 30 second clip of some poor widow being given a folded flag with a voice over regaling the body count.


If you can look at the video and not get some tears in your eyes....ye know naught about war.

[dallas]

Dallas,
Perhaps if the drive-by media would show the good things our friends are doing there....and accept the fact they are real people and not merely something to make mock of....we might then get a much better idea of what is really going on there.

All the media want to see is the score board of deaths....and celebrate every time a "thousand" increment is surpassed.


Unfortunately 'everyday people' doesn't sell papers. The only way you'll get widespread interest is when American Idol meets Jihadi Idol in some kind of final. It's all our widely moronic populations can cope with.

[flipster]

If its any consolation, things are little better over this side of the pond!