'Twas The Night Before Christmas' MUST READ VERY GOOD

[Westernbiker]

I am not the author and I do not know who is, therefor I cannot give credit, where credit is due. Maybe you have read this before but it still warrants another read.
Warning! Get your tissue box ready! 


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 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 UNITED STATES 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 LAY 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 FOR 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, AS WE BOTH
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."

[Willow]

Someone changed the wording.  Soldier and Corps are not compatible.  

Lance Corporal James M. Schmidt 1986.

Merry Christmas, My Friend

By James M. Schmidt, a Marine Lance Corporal
stationed in Washington, D.C., in 1986

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.

[Westernbiker]

Thanks for the correction. 

[Willow]

Thanks for the correction. 

Thank you for bringing it up to remembrance.

[scooperhsd]

My opinion - this applies to all servicemembers, regardless of which service they are in.

Thanks to all current and former servicemembers for their sacrifice.

[Willow]

My opinion - this applies to all servicemembers, regardless of which service they are in.

Thanks to all current and former servicemembers for their sacrifice.

Regardless of to whom it applies, for someone to take another's work, change wording and present it as his own is plagiarism.  Plagiarism is theft.  It's not right.

Perhaps a lance corporal in the army should write his own poem.  

[old2soon]

          No brag No complaint. Spent a couple of Christmas's over seas. Thanks to All Currently Serving those Who have Served and those that Will Serve. And from personal experience I Know all those Serving can NOT be Home for Christmas. And to those on the Front Lines in Countries difficult for Americans to pronounce I say-From the bottom of my heart-THANK YOU and MERRY CHRISTMAS.

[Skinhead]

Perhaps a lance corporal in the army should write his own poem.   

There is no such thing as a lance corporal in the Army, just Corporals (now mostly Spec 4's).  We don't need no stinking lances.

[Willow]

Perhaps a lance corporal in the army should write his own poem.   

There is no such thing as a lance corporal in the Army, just Corporals (now mostly Spec 4's).  We don't need no stinking lances.

That, my friend, was my implied point to those who could catch it.  A lance corporal is an E-3.  I believe an Army PFC fills that slot.

[Skinhead]

Perhaps a lance corporal in the army should write his own poem.   

There is no such thing as a lance corporal in the Army, just Corporals (now mostly Spec 4's).  We don't need no stinking lances.

That, my friend, was my implied point to those who could catch it.  A lance corporal is an E-3.  I believe an Army PFC fills that slot.

As usual (99.5% of the time, like Rush Limbaugh) you are correct.  I should have realized that after your years in uniform, you knew your ranks across all branches of the service.