| | To Our SoldiersAlthough we can enjoy this Christmas in the comforts of home, surrounded by good things and the ones we love, we cannot and should not forget those who have placed themselves between us and those who would destroy us. Honor the living, remember the fallen.
#1
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.
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 far distant lands.
With medals and badges, awards of all kind
A sober thought came through my mind.
For this house was different, so dark and dreary,
I knew I had found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.
I 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.
His face so gentle, his room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured a United States soldier.
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 ‘round the world, the children would play,
And grownups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
Because of soldiers 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 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."
With that he rolled over and 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 I covered this Soldier from his toes to his head.
And I put on his T-shirt of gray and black,
With an eagle and an Army patch embroidered on back.
And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
And for a shining moment, I was United States Army deep inside.
I didn’t want to leave him on that cold dark night,
This guardian of honor so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, whispered with a voice so clean and pure,
"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!
-US Army Major Lovely
#2
Belleau Wood
Oh, the snowflakes fell in silence
over Belleau Wood that night
For a Christmas truce had been declared
By both sides of the fight
As we lay there in our trenches
The silence broke in two
By a German soldier singing
A song that we all knew
Though I did not know the language
The song was "Silent Night"
Then I heard my buddy whisper,
"All is calm and all is bright"
Then the fear and doubt surrounded me
"Cause I'd die if I was wrong
But I stood up in my trench And
I began to sing along
Then across the frozen battlefield
Anothers voice joined in
Until one by one each man became
A singer of the hymn
Then I thought that I was dreaming
For right there in my sight
Stood the German soldier
'Neath the falling flakes of white
And he raised his hand and smiled at me
As if he seemed to say
Here's hoping we both live
To see us find a better way
Then the devil's clock struck midnight
And the skies lit up again
And the battlefield where heaven stood
Was blown to hell again
But for just one fleeting moment
The answer seemed so clear
Heaven's not beyond the clouds
It's just beyond the fear
No, heaven's not beyond the clouds
It's for us to find it here
#3
The Corpsman's Christmas Poem
"'Twas the night before Christmas as I flew o'er the Marine Base, when I spied a young man who seemed out of place. His eyes showed compassion, his hair a bit long, but his head was held high and his body was strong.
His air was confident, his uniform smart, but what impressed me most was the size of his heart. For he embodied honor, one of this country's best, and the words U.S. NAVY showed large on his chest.
As I stood there in wonder and gazed into his eyes, the words that he spoke took me quite by surprise. "What's wrong Santa, haven't you ever seen a sailor before?" I sensed something special and longed to know more.
"To be honest, this field thing wasn't part of my plan, but God didn't give me a boat or tin can." The words he spoke next surprised me all the more, "But I'm as proud of my Navy as I am of the Corps!"
"Don't worry Santa, that I'm a sailor you see, for when a Marine goes down they will still call on me. They'll forget I'm a sailor, they'll call in my stock. At the top of their lungs they'll yell ,"Get me the doc!"
"And I'll answer that call, anytime, anywhere. Though I know I'm a target I really don't care. I'll face incoming fire as I race cross the land, and use my very own body to shield a downed man."
"Working long hours and into the night, my unit's battle is over, but I'm just starting to fight. For the life of every Marine is sacred to me. I refuse to surrender them to death, and in that I'll find victory."
"And yet I'll take the time to comfort a dying man, to sit down by his side, to reach out and hold his hand. For it takes as much courage to care as to fight. For just as the poem says, many don't "go gently into that night."
"Santa, it's not any one uniform that makes you a man, but rather it's those ideals for which you choose to stand. I draw my line here, it's long and it's plain. For pain, hurt and suffering are the things I disdain."
I know very well that I may lose my life, so that a Marine may see an unmet child and young wife. So Santa, it really doesn't matter if they don't like my hair. I'm a Navy Corpsman, their Doc, and I'll always be there."
"I follow the brave docs who have come long before, from Belleau Wood, Iwo, and Lebanon's shore. As history proudly shows, they all gave their best, and for those who have died, surely they're blessed."
"At Inchon, the gulf and times during Tet, our brothers have fallen, but we carry on yet. For we carry their honor and legacy still." As I held back my tears it took all of my will.
I had to leave him there for I had other plans, but I knew in my heart that the Corps is in good hands. As I flew away I heard his laughter, it rang so loud and clear. "Hey Santa, how 'bout a nice pair of boots for the 26 miler next year?"
HMC(FMF/SW) Mark Forsberg
2/3 UDP, Okinawa, December 1997
#4
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, a nd it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down you! r pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at ho me on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."
"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own s on in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us." |
