MARINE CORPS CHRISTMAS POEM

'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 whom in this house did live.

As I looked all around, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stockings by the fire, just boots full of sand.
On the wall hung pictures of far away lands.

With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,
A sobering thought soon came to my mind.
For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen.
This was the hlouse of a U.S. Marine.

I'd heard stories about them, so I had to see more.
I walked down the hallway 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'd pictured a U.S. Marine.
Was this the hero of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean shaven, his face weathered tan.
I soon understood this was more than a man.
For I realized the families that I had seen that night
owed their lives to these mean willing to fight.

Soon around the nation the children would play
and grown-ups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.
They enjoyed freedom each day and all year
because of Marines like this one lying here.

I couldn't help wondering 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.

He must have awoken for 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, drifted off into sleep.
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
I watched him for hours. So silent. So still.
I noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.

So I took of my jacket, the one made of red,
to cover this Marine from his toe to his head.
Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold.
With an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.

Although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride.
For one shining moment I was the Marine Corps deep inside.
I didn't want to leave, so quiet in the night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.

But half asleep he rolled over, in a voice clean and pure,
said "Carry on Santa, It's Christmas Day, all's secure."
One look at my watch and I knew he was right.
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and good night.

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

(How it really is!)

 
T'was the night before Christmas
and all the the Corps
Not a sole had liberty,
the troops were all sore. 

 
Yes, every Marine
every Marine in the lot
was lying on a rack of nails
called a Marine Corps Cot.

When out on the Parade Deck
I heard such a clatter,
I sprang from my cot
to see what the hell was the matter.

With bayonet in hand
I moved stealthily to the door
I cautiously waited to see
if there were more.

Yes, it was the Commandant of Marines
this there was no doubt
he was wearing his poncho
green side out.

He carefully moved from rack to rack
he cautiously inspected each rifle and pack
to the chosen few a 96 chit
but to the majority a ration of s*it

As he pulled away in his gold plated tank
pulled by ten colonels all bucking for rank
I heard him say, and he said with a shout
Merry Christmas you suckers you'll never get out.

HUGS FOR YOU

ANGEL

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