by Twinpilot001 Mon Dec 24, 2012 10:20 amMerry Christmas to all- be safe and enjoy all
'Twas the night before Christmas,
He stood watch all alone,
In a dusty dark bunker,
Made of sand bags and stone.
I had come to this place,
With presents to give,
I had to find out,
How this person did live.
I looked all about,
A strange site I did see,
No tinsel, no presents,
Not even a tree.
No stocking, no mantle,
Everything was covered with sand,
Just a few scatted pictures,
Of family and friends.
There were weapons, ammunition
And gear of all kinds,
A sobering thought
Came through my mind.
For this place was different,
It was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier,
Once I could see clearly.
The soldier stood watch,
Silent, alone,
Fighting off sleep,
In this place he called "home".
His face was so gentle,
Everything was in order,
This was just how I pictured
A United States soldier.
Was this one of the heros
Of whom I'd just read?
With only a poncho
And the ground for a bed?
I realized the families
That I saw on 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 day of the year,
Because of the soldiers,
Like the one standing here.
I could not help wonder
How many stood watch all alone,
On a cold Christmas Eve
In a land far from home.
They flew in the skies,
Patrolled out at sea,
To keep America safe,
The land of the free.
Some had gone home,
And were then laid to rest,
Young lives cut too short,
They had given their best.
Families would grieve,
They might not understand,
The war their soldier had fought,
In this far away land.
They had laid down their lives,
To set others free,
And to let them taste liberty,
Just like you and me.
The very thought
Brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees
And started to cry.
The soldier looked at me
And I heard his young voice,
"Please, Santa, don't cry,
This life is my choice;
I fight for freedom,
I'll face any danger
My life is given to God
To him I'm no stranger."
The soldier looked out of the bunker
And fought off the sleep.
I couldn't control it,
I continued to weep.
He kept watch for hours,
So silent and still,
And we both shivered
From the desert night's chill.
I did not want to leave
On that cold and dark night,
This guardian of freedom
So willing to fight.
Then the soldier turned to me,
With a voice soft and pure,
And whispered, "Carry on Santa,
It's Christmas Day, all is secure."
One look at my watch,
And I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas young soldier,
And to all a good night."
'Twas the night before Christmas,
He stood watch all alone,
In a dusty dark bunker,
Made of sand bags and stone.
I had come to this place,
With presents to give,
I had to find out,
How this person did live.
I looked all about,
A strange site I did see,
No tinsel, no presents,
Not even a tree.
No stocking, no mantle,
Everything was covered with sand,
Just a few scatted pictures,
Of family and friends.
There were weapons, ammunition
And gear of all kinds,
A sobering thought
Came through my mind.
For this place was different,
It was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier,
Once I could see clearly.
The soldier stood watch,
Silent, alone,
Fighting off sleep,
In this place he called "home".
His face was so gentle,
Everything was in order,
This was just how I pictured
A United States soldier.
Was this one of the heros
Of whom I'd just read?
With only a poncho
And the ground for a bed?
I realized the families
That I saw on 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 day of the year,
Because of the soldiers,
Like the one standing here.
I could not help wonder
How many stood watch all alone,
On a cold Christmas Eve
In a land far from home.
They flew in the skies,
Patrolled out at sea,
To keep America safe,
The land of the free.
Some had gone home,
And were then laid to rest,
Young lives cut too short,
They had given their best.
Families would grieve,
They might not understand,
The war their soldier had fought,
In this far away land.
They had laid down their lives,
To set others free,
And to let them taste liberty,
Just like you and me.
The very thought
Brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees
And started to cry.
The soldier looked at me
And I heard his young voice,
"Please, Santa, don't cry,
This life is my choice;
I fight for freedom,
I'll face any danger
My life is given to God
To him I'm no stranger."
The soldier looked out of the bunker
And fought off the sleep.
I couldn't control it,
I continued to weep.
He kept watch for hours,
So silent and still,
And we both shivered
From the desert night's chill.
I did not want to leave
On that cold and dark night,
This guardian of freedom
So willing to fight.
Then the soldier turned to me,
With a voice soft and pure,
And whispered, "Carry on Santa,
It's Christmas Day, all is secure."
One look at my watch,
And I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas young soldier,
And to all a good night."
