brian11to1

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. And on the wall hung a picture of a far distand land

With medals and badges awards of all kinds a sobering thought soon came to my mind, for this was different unlike and I’d seen. This was the home a US 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 of his one bedroom home.

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene. Not how I pictured a US 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 tan face. 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 children would play, and grownups would celebrate on a bright Christmas Day. They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year, because marines like this on lying here.

I couldnt help but wonder how many lay alone on a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from home. Just the very though brought a tear to my eye. I dropped to my knees and started to cry.

He must have awoken for I heard a rough voice, “Santa, don’t cry this 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 nights 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, glove 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 Corp 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 its Christmas day. All secure.”

One look at my watch and I knew he was right. Merry Christmas, my friend, Semper Fi and good night.

Corporal James M. Schmidt December 1981.

I read this in Leatherneck, a Marine magazine... enjoy... frankly i dont care if its a fucking repost. Oh and Corporal James M. Schmidt is one bas ass Marine, he originally wrote this Poem while awaiting his Commanding Officer's holiday decorations inspection in December 1981. Sorry if I'm biased to the Marines.

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Wycked Sniper

Finally! Thanks man, I put that in my Christmas cards every year. At least you posted the author, I've been wondering that for awhile. Good stuff maang, good stuff.

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"Better to be judged by 12 than carried by 6"

brian11to1

Thank you thank you. Hoo Rah!

__________________
90 Integra Sedan
B20V 225 / 153
I DO NOT answer tech questions via PM. Use the forums!!!