Friday, 28 November 2008
 

Something for my grandson Ian in Texas. Listen to it here as you read along.

Leroy The Redneck Reindeer
As performed by Joe Diffie
Written by Joe Diffie, Steve Pippin, and Stacey Slate

Well you've all heard the story
About Rudolph and his nose
But I'll tell you a Christmas tale
That never has been told
Well you may think you've heard it all
But you ain't heard nothin' yet
About that crazy Christmas
That the North Pole can't forget

Rudolph was under the weather
And had to call in sick
So he got on the horn
To his cousin Leroy
Who lived out in the sticks
He said "Santa's really counting on me
And I hate to pass the buck"
Leroy said "Hey I'm on my way"
And he jumped in his pick-up truck

When Leroy got to the North Pole
All the reindeer snickered and laughed
They never seen a deer in overalls
And a John Deer tractor hat
Well Santa stepped in
And said "Just calm down
'cause we all got a job to do
Like it or not Leroy's in charge
And he's gonna be leadin' you"

And it was Leroy The Redneck Reindeer
Hooked to the front of the sleigh
Delivering toys to all the good ol' boys
And girls along the way
He's just a down home party animal
Two Steppin' all across the sky
He mixed jingle bells with the rebel yell
And made history that night

Before that night was over
Leroy had changed there tune
He had 'em scootin' a hoof
On every roof
By the light of a neon moon
Santa wrapped his bag with the Dixie flag
He as having the time of his life
You could here him call
"Merry Christmas Y'all
And all of y'all a goodnight"

And it was Leroy The Redneck Reindeer
Hooked to the front of the sleigh
Delivering toys to all the good ol' boys
And girls along the way
He's just a down home party animal
Two Steppin' all across the sky
He mixed jingle bells with the rebel yell
And made history that night

He mixed Jingle Bells with the rebel yell
And made history that night

Learn more about Joe Diffie at his web site.

Contributed by Bill Faith on November 28, 2008 at 11:39 PM in Christmas | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Monday, 25 December 2006
 

Merry Christmas all, and especially our troops

I didn't hold back anything special to post right at Christmas -- I'd rather allow time for things to be seen and passed on -- but please check out our Old War Dogs Christmas collection here and my collection here, and do not miss Greyhawk's Christmas post here.

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Don't miss Making It Merry In Iraq at Curt's place.

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Michelle: For Unto Us A Child Is Born

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I mentioned The Gray Dog's video tribute earlier but I'll say it a again: Do. not. miss. it.

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I added a couple of OWD links to Hot Air's Christmas Open Thread. Probably be some other good one's there before long.

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Merry Christmas To The CQ Community!
Captain Ed

The First Mate and I wish all of our friends in the CQ community a Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, and a terrific new year! We've been blessed to have you with us, and hopefully this video Christmas card will express our gratitude -- especially to our readers in places like Iraq, Afghanistan, and elsewhere putting their lives on the line for our nation. You are all in our prayers, as always.

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James Joyner has a nice link roundup here.

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Gateway Pundit has a great Christmas post up here (like I'm surprised or something.)

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God bless ya'all sheepdogs
2spotlefty

The wolves at bay,
All thanks to you,
No one can say,
How much they'd do,
In damage done,
To liberty,
But for sheepdogs,
She's history.

Keep safe now,
And win the war, ...

***

A Very Special Christmas Present
White Rose

It was Christmas, 2003 and I was finishing a mission into Iraq. We had taken food and ice up to BIAP and were on our way back to Kuwait on Christmas Eve. So far away from home and missing my boys very much, I was not in the best of moods. We pulled into a camp just a few hours north of the Kuwait border late in the afternoon. I had bought a pre-decorated Christmas Tree several weeks before in a PX in Baghdad to put in my truck. My thought was to try to keep up the spirits of myself and the guys. But the guys didn't want to be reminded that it was Christmas while they were so far away from home. I listened to them tease me for several weeks about the tree and one even threatened to take the tree out of my truck and throw it away when I was not looking. I kept telling them that we should be happy. We were alive. We were doing something important. We were making the lives of the troops a bit easier. But none of them wanted to hear it. And on this day, it all finally got to me.

I had made my mind up that I was going to skip dinner and just spend the evening sulking in my truck. I didn't want to see the reminders of Christmas that I knew would be decorating the DEFAC. But  ...

A Very Special Christmas Present

There's a special present under the tree this year.
Wrapped in paper of red, white, and blue.
I walked in to find the children,
Constructing it especially for you.

Their little hands were covered with glitter,
Bits of paper scattered everywhere.
I had to quietly laugh at seeing them
With glue stuck in their hair.

I slipped out of the room unnoticed by them
And sat down in front of the tree.
The glowing lights and smells of Christmas
Quickly brought visions of you to me.

Suddenly, I heard little feet running down the hall.
I knew their project must now be done.
They handed me the crumpled present and asked,
if I would please help wrap this one.

On this sheet of paper a big star they had placed,
With stick-people looking up toward the sky.
They waited in anticipation for my approval.
Their faces glowed with pride

At the bottom, a note was scribbled
In a child's special little way,
To let you know they only asked Santa
For one thing this Christmas Day.  ...

Contributed by Bill Faith on December 25, 2006 at 11:58 PM in Christmas | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Sunday, 24 December 2006
 

To Our Sheepdogs
Contributed by Russ Vaughn

It’s so easy to forget them there,
As we warm beside the fire,
Those spread so far out everywhere,
Those sent to man the wire.
Patrolling on the front line,
As peacefully here we bask,
Protecting what is yours and mine,
That’s their hard, dreary task. ...

Contributed by Bill Faith on December 24, 2006 at 01:53 PM in Christmas, Poetry, Russ Vaughn, The American Warrior | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Merry Christmas From A Gray Old Dog

Merry Christmas
Contributed by The Gray Dog

As we near Christmas Day, I look back at this year of exceptional blessings, not the least of which was an invitation to participate at Old War Dogs.  I want to wish each and every Old War Dog the merriest of Christmases and also to offer the same sincere wishes to our troops who on this Christmas will stand in harms way, thousands of miles from home.  I hope that each of you will that stumbles across my blog will keep them in your hearts and prayers this Christmas season. 

Click to watch a Merry Christmas to our Troops.

Contributed by Bill Faith on December 24, 2006 at 02:12 AM in Christmas, Music, The American Warrior | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Friday, 22 December 2006
 

Of Good Samaritans and Stranded Marines

The good Samaritan and the Marines
Michelle Malkin

The Christmas spirit is alive and well:

As far as Stacey Kible is concerned, Santa drives a Ford Windstar.

Kible was despairing that her son Matt Kible, a 20-year-old Marine, would not make it home for Christmas. Matt, who is stationed in Japan, was stranded at San Francisco International Airport. He was told that he probably wouldn't be able to get a flight to Denver until Christmas Day.

Matt Kible met three fellow Marines at the airport, all of them trying to get back to Denver. Two were returning from Iraq.

The four young Marines commiserated that they might not be able to be with their families at Christmas. None of them was old enough to rent a car, and the blizzard that descended on Denver seemed about to ruin their plans.

"Our hopes and dreams were shot when they told us we couldn't get home for Christmas Eve," said Chris Redlin, a 21-year-old Marine from Aurora who is also stationed at Okinawa.

Then a stranger came bearing gifts. ...

Contributed by Bill Faith on December 22, 2006 at 04:14 PM in Christmas, US Marine Corps | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Friday, 15 December 2006
 

Wreaths Across America
Michelle Malkin

Rest easy, sleep well my brothers.
Know the line has held, your job is done.
Rest easy, sleep well.
Others have taken up where you fell, the line has held.
Peace, peace, and farewell …

Contributed by Bill Faith on December 15, 2006 at 07:56 PM in Christmas, The American Warrior, US Air Force, US Army, US Coast Guard, US Marine Corps, US Navy | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Ho, Ho, Ho (Chi Minh)! Kerry, Kerry, Christmas!

I was just going to let lying dogs sleep and not post this one this year. Dumb ass hasn't learned a thing so I guess he's still in season.

The Night Before Christmas (Cambodian Version)

Twas the night before Christmas and we were afloat
Somewhere in Cambodia in our little boat.
While the river was lightened by rockets red glare
No one but the President knew we were there.

The crew was all nestled deep down in their bunks,
While the Spook and I watched the sampans and junks.
Our mission was secret, so secret in fact,
No one else would remember it when we got back.

When out on the water there arose such a clatter
I leaped down from the bridge to see what was the matter.
The incoming friendly was starting to flash
And I knew that the ARVN's were having a bash.

The snap of friendly fire on the warm tropic air
Convinced me for sure no one knew we were there,
On a clandestine mission so secret it's true
That I'm still convinced only Tricky Dick knew.

While I huddled for safety in the tub on the bow,
I thought of a title, "Apocalypse Now."
To give to the films I was I making each day
To show all the voters when I made my big play.

As I sat there sweating in my lucky flight jacket,
Spook said, "Merry Christmas!" and tossed me a packet.
And what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a new lucky cap, which I still have right here.

I keep it tucked here, in this leather brief case,
Just sharing with the press its secretive place
As I regale them again with my senate refrain,
That Christmas in Cambodia is seared into my brain.

Don't bother to quibble with history my friend,
By pointing out Johnson was President then.
Don't listen to Swiftees who try to explain,
For I tell you that night is seared into my brain.

Down Hibbard, down Lonsdale, and you too O'Neill,
So you don't remember? Well it's something I feel.
I don't need all you Swiftvets to support my campaign,
Cause Christmas in Cambodia is seared into my brain,

Into my brain, into my brain, into my brain...

Russ Vaughn
2d Bn, 327th Parachute Infantry Regiment
101st Airborne Division
Vietnam 65-66

Contributed by Bill Faith on December 15, 2006 at 10:00 AM in Christmas, Jean Fraud Kerry, Poetry, Russ Vaughn | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Tuesday, 05 December 2006
 

Another classic I'll post every year as long as I'm able. Listen to it here or here as you read along.

Leroy The Redneck Reindeer
As performed by Joe Diffie
Written by Joe Diffie, Steve Pippin, and Stacey Slate

Well you've all heard the story
About Rudolph and his nose
But I'll tell you a Christmas tale
That never has been told
Well you may think you've heard it all
But you ain't heard nothin' yet
About that crazy Christmas
That the North Pole can't forget

Rudolph was under the weather
And had to call in sick
So he got on the horn
To his cousin Leroy
Who lived out in the sticks
He said "Santa's really counting on me
And I hate to pass the buck"
Leroy said "Hey I'm on my way"
And he jumped in his pick-up truck

When Leroy got to the North Pole
All the reindeer snickered and laughed
They never seen a deer in overalls
And a John Deer tractor hat
Well Santa stepped in
And said "Just calm down
'cause we all got a job to do
Like it or not Leroy's in charge
And he's gonna be leadin' you"

And it was Leroy The Redneck Reindeer
Hooked to the front of the sleigh
Delivering toys to all the good ol' boys
And girls along the way
He's just a down home party animal
Two Steppin' all across the sky
He mixed jingle bells with the rebel yell
And made history that night

Before that night was over
Leroy had changed there tune
He had 'em scootin' a hoof
On every roof
By the light of a neon moon
Santa wrapped his bag with the Dixie flag
He as having the time of his life
You could here him call
"Merry Christmas Y'all
And all of y'all a goodnight"

And it was Leroy The Redneck Reindeer
Hooked to the front of the sleigh
Delivering toys to all the good ol' boys
And girls along the way
He's just a down home party animal
Two Steppin' all across the sky
He mixed jingle bells with the rebel yell
And made history that night

He mixed Jingle Bells with the rebel yell
And made history that night

Learn more about Joe Diffie at his web site.

Contributed by Bill Faith on December 5, 2006 at 06:00 AM in Christmas, Music | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Thursday, 30 November 2006
 

(A repeat from last year. Too good to let you miss or forget about.)

Christmas Wish

“There’s no such thing as Santa,” jeered the group of older boys
“there isn’t any reindeer, any elves or magic toys.”
“Oh yes there is” I cried aloud, my little fists curled tight,
“He’s on his way with loaded sleigh to visit us tonight.”

“I made the most important wish a boy could ever make
and I’ve been good for oh so long, been good for goodness sake.”
And though the tears burned in my eyes, I swore I wouldn’t cry,
I didn’t want to be a man, but promised dad I’d try.

That night was spent, just mom and me, like many nights before;
the house was never quite the same since dad went off to war.
We had our Christmas dinner and we sang O Holy Night,
We read about that meany Grinch and cheered when he did right.

But sadness showed within Mom’s eyes as she stood by my bed,
and tucked the covers to my chin and kissed me on the head.
“Don’t worry mom,” I whispered “things are gonna be all right.”
“We’re sure to get our Christmas Wish when Santa comes tonight.”

I tried my best to stay awake and listen to the roof,
for telltale ring of jingle bells or clop of reindeer hoof.
But snug and warm it wasn’t long before I gave a yawn,
And would have gone to sleep but for the noise out on the lawn.

Then came the clump of heavy boots across the hardwood floor,
the tread somehow familiar like I’d heard it once before.
As quiet as a mouse I crept, my eyes flew wide to see
the silhouette that stood alone before the Christmas tree.

His frame was lean and fit, he had no belly big and round,
the heavy sack a duffle that he placed upon the ground.
He didn’t wear a stitch of red, the uniform was green,
And not a single jingle bell, just medals could be seen.

And then the strongest arms on earth wrapped ‘round and held me tight,
and I knew then that Santa really rode on Christmas night,
and Christmas Wishes did come true, just like I knew they had,
For Santa came on Christmas night and brought me home my dad.

Michael Marks

With my fondest wish for every man and woman who serves to keep this nation safe, and the loving families who wait at home for your return. God speed you home safe and sound to our waiting arms.

Contributed by Bill Faith on November 30, 2006 at 06:00 AM in Christmas, Michael Marks, Poetry | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Tuesday, 28 November 2006
 

The Sands Of Christmas

(I've published this on Small Town Veteran the last two years but it's still just as beautiful as ever.)

The Sands Of Christmas

I had no Christmas spirit when I breathed a weary sigh,
and looked across the table where the bills were piled too high.
The laundry wasn’t finished and the car I had to fix,
My stocks were down another point, the Dolphins lost by six.

And so with only minutes till my son got home from school
I gave up on the drudgery and grabbed a wooden stool.
The burdens that I carried were about all I could take,
and so I flipped the TV on to catch a little break.

I came upon a desert scene in shades of tan and rust,
No snowflakes hung upon the wind, just clouds of swirling dust.
And where the reindeer should have stood before a laden sleigh,
eight hummers ran a column right behind an M1A.

A group of boys walked past the tank, not one was past his teens,
Their eyes were hard as polished flint, their faces drawn and lean.
They walked the street in armor with their rifles shouldered tight,
their dearest wish for Christmas, just to have a silent night.

Other soldiers gathered, hunkered down against the wind,
To share a scrap of mail and dreams of going home again.
There wasn’t much at all to put their lonely hearts at ease,
They had no Christmas turkey, just a pack of MREs.

They didn’t have a garland or a stocking I could see,
They didn’t need an ornament-- they lacked a Christmas Tree.
They didn’t have a present even though it was tradition,
the only boxes I could see were labeled “ammunition.”

I felt a little tug and found my son now by my side,
He asked me what it was I feared, and why it was I cried.
I swept him up into my arms and held him oh so near
and kissed him on the forehead as I whispered in his ear.

There’s nothing wrong my little son, for safe we sleep tonight,
our heroes stand on foreign land to give us all the right,
to worry on the things in life that mean nothing at all,
instead of wondering if we will be the next to fall.

He looked at me as children do and said its always right,
to thank the ones who help us and perhaps that we should write.
And so we pushed aside the bills and sat to draft a note,
to thank the many far from home, and this is what we wrote,

God bless you all and keep you safe, and speed your way back home.
Remember that we love you so, and that you’re not alone.
The gift you give you share with all, a present every day,
You give the gift of liberty and that we can’t repay.

©Copyright December 2003 by Michael Marks

Author’s Notes:

Christmas tugs at the heart more so than any other time of the year and in 2003 I found myself watching the news and reflecting on the young men and women facing a very different Christmas than those we knew here at home. Once again, I wrote with the hope of sharing how much America appreciates the service that keeps us safe, and how much we pray for the safe homecoming of all who serve

I affirm that I am the author and that I freely submit this poem for reprint without reservation-- this is an open and grateful tribute to the men and women who serve every day to keep our nation safe. -- Michael Marks

Please, this year as you enjoy the holiday season, will you pause and remember our debt to our Warriors past and present, and remember them in your prayers?

A tip of the hat to my friend and fellow Battle of Kontum vet William "1stCav" Page for emailing me this. I was curious about the title, which had apparently been lost as the poem was mailed from friend to friend around the web, and about whether the author had provided any background information when it was first published, so I searched Google for the original.  The version I've posted above is posted here in the International War Veterans' Poetry Archives. I copied the author's comments from there and from  this page at Jack's Joint.  I have since been in touch with the author via email and have his permission to post his work in it's entirety.

Contributed by Bill Faith on November 28, 2006 at 06:00 AM in Christmas, Michael Marks, Poetry | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Sunday, 26 November 2006
 

A Marine's Christmas // Merry Chrismas, My Friend

Recycled. I'll post it every year as long as I'm able. This is the original poem A Soldier's Silent Night, the post just below this one, was based on.

MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY FRIEND

‘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.

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.

©1987 by James M. Schmidt

I've seen at least 5 different versions of this poem over the past few years. The above version comes from this page on the IWVPA site.  It appears to be a faithful reproduction of this Leatherneck Magazine version, which Snopes is convinced is the original version. When I emailed a link to Blackfive, he wrote back and told me he's convinced the poem was originally written by an Army Ranger and stolen by the Marines. As I told him, when a Ranger and a Marine disagree this ol' boy stands way back and does not get involved.  Merry Christmas to all of our Warriors. May God bless and keep you.

Hat tip: Mary Ann Parker

Contributed by Bill Faith on November 26, 2006 at 06:01 AM in Christmas, Poetry, The American Warrior | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

A Soldier's Silent Night

I posted variations of this post here and here but it's too good not to post every year. This is what should be playing on all the radio stations instead of all that "Rockin' Shoppin' Xmas" crap they play ten times a day.  Credit these people; I just wish they thought the audio was worth leaving up all year.

If the audio player doesn't work for you click here.

A Soldier's Silent Night

'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,
To See Just Who
In This Dwelling Did Live.

I Looked All Around
A Strange Sight To See,
No Tinsel, No Presents,
Not Even A Tree.

No Stocking From The Mantle,
Just Boots Filled With Sand,
On The Wall Hung Pictures
Of Far Distant Lands.

With Medals And Badges,
Awards Of Every Kind,
A Sobering Thought Came Alive In My Mind

This House Was Different,
It Was Dark, It Was Dreary,
I Have Found The Home Of A Soldier,
I Can See That Most Clearly.

[...]

Read the rest of the lyrics here. This is an obvious adaptation of "Merry Christmas, My Friend," which I posted here, but it's very well done. Blackfive has more information here.

***

Dang! Waited too long and let Blackfive beat me to this one this year. "Great minds ... " and all that.

Contributed by Bill Faith on November 26, 2006 at 06:00 AM in Christmas, Music, Poetry, The American Warrior | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Friday, 24 November 2006
 

Video -- ‘Nativity Story’ Trailer Re-Cut for Holiday Relevance
Scott Ott

(2006-11-24) — In an effort to make its film about the birth of the Christ more relevant to the holiday season, New Line Cinema today released a re-cut version of its promotional trailer for ‘The Nativity Story‘, incorporating elements of other popular holiday classics like ‘Deck the Halls’ and ‘Deja Vu’. ...

Contributed by Bill Faith on November 24, 2006 at 10:30 AM in Christmas | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Merry CHRISTmas, y'all.

If Black Friday is the official beginning of the Christmas shopping season I guess that makes it time to start posting Christmassy things on my blog too. I'm going to take a different approach this year than in the past; I'm going to post a new Christmas item every couple of days, or maybe even more often if I run across something new that I really like, for as long as I can find things to post, so there's plenty of time for people to enjoy them and tell their friends where they are. Click here  any time you want to to see everything I have posted so far. The impatient among you can also click here to see all of my Christmas posts from the last couple of years, but be forewarned some of them contain links to things that are no longer where they were when I linked to them.

Contributed by Bill Faith on November 24, 2006 at 10:01 AM in Christmas | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

A Soldier's Christmas

I guess when Russ Vaughn and the girl I took to my Junior Prom send me the same poem maybe that means I really oughta post it. Email from Russ in early November:

Bill, I know this has been around a while but it's still a damned good poem. Wish I'd written it. ...

Some clarification is in order here. The email I received from Russ, and the one from the old girlfriend, ended with these paragraphs:

Please, would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our U.S. service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities.  Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe.

Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.

LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
30th Naval Construction Regiment
OIC, Logistics Cell One
Al Taqqadum, Iraq.

It should be noted here that LCDR Giles did not write "A Soldier's Christmas," nor does he claim to. It was written by Mr. Michael Marks, several of whose works are collected here, including including some others you'll recognize and at least one of which I've posted in the past.

Thank you, LCDR Giles, for your service to our nation and for helping get the word out about a great piece of poetry.

Here, in it's entirety, is my post from about a year ago (I have email from Michael containing permission to post the whole thing):

This is a re-post from last year; it's still excellent. Thank you Subsunk for reminding me about it (Do read his related post.)

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 “Its 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.”

©Copyright December 07, 2000 by Michael Marks

   

Author’s Notes:

A Soldier's Christmas was the first in this series of patriotic writings, drafted on Pearl Harbor Day 2000 when in the wake of the 2000 Presidential Election our nation saw the right of US Armed Forces personnel openly questioned and debated. I felt it unconscionable that at the onset of the Christmas season, those serving to defend our nation would hear anything but our love and support. It is our challenge to stand for their rights at home while they stand for our lives and safety overseas. This poem went out and quickly spread around the world in emails, letters, magazines. I received letters from Marines in Bosnia, soldiers in Okinawa, from a submariner who xeroxed a copy for everyone on his sub. Moms wrote, dads, brothers and sisters. I have saved and cherish every letter and set out to continue writing throughout the year.

I was thinking about our servicemen overseas this Holiday Season and wrote the following in hope of bringing a small bit of Christmas cheer to active duty and veterans alike ... just a humble thanks and "God Bless." Please feel free to pass it along or post it as you see fit. Thank you.

Happy Holidays,
Michael Marks

Sources: here and here.

Contributed by Bill Faith on November 24, 2006 at 06:00 AM in Christmas, Michael Marks, Poetry | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack