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 house did live.

I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
no stocking by mantel, 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 freedon each month of the year,
because of the soldiers, like the one lying here.

I couldn"t help but 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, dont'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 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."

*

This poem was written by a Marine stationed in Okinawa Japan.
The following is his request. I think it is reasonable.....PLEASE.
Tell someone about this page
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.
Please, do your small part to plant this small seed.

Semper Fidelis.
To all the Armed Forces, THIS I WILL DEFEND.

*

THE FOLLOWING IS FOR THE TOO OFTEN FORGOTTEN WIVES OF SERVICEMEN

*

The Silent Ranks

I wear no uniforms, no blues or army greens.
But I am in the military in the ranks rarely seen.
I have no rank upon my shoulders. Salutes I do not give.
But the military world is the place where I live.

I'm not in the chain of command, orders I do not get.
But my husband is the one who does, this I can not forget.
I'm not the ones who fires the weapon, who puts my life on the line.
But my job is just as tough. I'm the one that's left behind.

My husband is a patriot, a brave and prideful man
and the call to serve his country, not all can understand.
Behind the lines I see the things needed to keep this country free.
My husband makes the sacrifice, but so do our kids and me.
I love the man I married. Soldiering is his life.
But I stand among the silent ranks known as the Military Wife

Personal note: I give my thanks to all the Canadian service men and women and their families.

*

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