[Ansteorra] Veterans

[Paul DeLisle]

> They are the gentle souls whose hearts are broken by the
> deaths of brothers-in-arms and the nasty behavior of those they
> protect.  If you're a Vet - or in active service - stand up!
> Get those shoulders back! And know you are deeply appreciated.
> Gerita

This is a month-or-so out of date...but I've always found it
appropriate...and moving. If you know a Vet...send this to them in a month
or so...


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 did I 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 house of a soldier, once I could see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled upon 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 just read?
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?
I realized the families 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 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 my God, my country, my Corps."

The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it, I started 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.
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.)