The Greatest Gift of All
Silently they protect us,
we don’t always remember they are there.
All around the world they stand,
while we sleep and eat without a care.
We may read about some nameless soldier,
while we sip our morning brew.
But we can never fully understand,
each and every thing,
that they must do.
They won’t be home for Christmas,
won’t see their friends or families,
There won’t be presents,
or a decorated tree,
because they will still be standing watch,
protecting you and me.
Brave, strong and always at the ready,
Surely makes all of our gripes and groans,
seem mighty mighty petty.
So stop and take this moment,
to really give them thanks,
each and every one of them
throughout all branches and all ranks!
Tammy Kosorok
New Smyrna Beach, Florida
Christmas in Iraq
Nashville, TN - 'Twas the night before Christmas in an Iraqi town;
And our brave U.S. forces had all just hunkered down.
Not a Humvee was moving, not a Jeep stirred the sand
As troops dreamed of their homes, each and every man.
Some longed for their sweethearts, other men missed their moms,
Others missed sons and daughters not seen for so long.
Sugarplums would be nice, but much nicer to be
At home with their loved ones 'neath their own Christmas tree.
When what to their wondering ears should be heard,
But the faint sounds of carols, music and joyful words.
At first heard so faintly, then the sound grew and grew --
The sound of your loved ones singing carols for you.
For you are not forgotten, you are not alone;
You are missed by the people you keep safe at home,
And we remember you as the Christmas bells ring,
As you're watched by the Christ Child whose carols we sing.
For no matter how far from your home you may be,
There once was a Babe born for you and for me.
So hark to the carols as their music draws nigh,
And look to the stars in the Iraqi sky.
Remember the star which on Bethlehem shone,
The star that still guides those who yearn to be Home.
So as Christmas Day dawns over here, over there --
Merry Christmas to you, with our love, thanks, and prayers.
© 2005 Kathryn E. Darden
Used with permission
www.ChristianActivities.com
(The original "Night Before Christmas" by Clement Clarke Moore)
Christmas Wish
"There’s no such thing as Santa," jeered the group of older boys
"There isn’t any reindeer, any elves or magic toys."
"Oh yes there is." I cried aloud, my little fists curled tight,
"He’s on his way with loaded sleigh to visit us tonight."
"I made the most imprtant wish a boy could ever make
and I’ve been good for oh so long, been good for goodness sake."
And though the tears burned in my eyes, I swore I wouldn’t cry,
I didn’t want to be a man, but promised dad I’d try.
That night was spent, just mom and me, like many nights before;
the house was never quite the same since dad went off to war.
We had our Chistmas dinner and we sang O Holy Night,
We read about that meany Grinch and cheered when he did right.
But sadness showed within Mom’s eyes as she stood by my bed,
and tucked the covers to my chin and kissed me on the head.
"Don’t worry mom," I whispered "Things are gonna be all right."
"We’re sure to get our Christmas Wish when Santa comes tonight."
I tried my best to stay awake and listen to the roof,
for telltale ring of jingle bells or clop of reindeer hoof.
But snug and warm it wasn’t long before I gave a yawn,
And would have gone to sleep but for the noise out on the lawn.
Then came the clump of heavy boots across the hardwood floor,
the tread somehow familiar like I’d heard it once before.
As quiet as a mouse I crept, my eyes flew wide to see
the silhouette that stood alone before the Christmas tree.
His frame was lean and fit, he had no belly big and round,
the heavy sack a duffle that he placed upon the ground.
He didn’t wear a stitch of red, the uniform was green,
And not a single jingle bell, just medals could be seen.
And then the strongest arms on earth wrapped ‘round and held me tight,
and I knew then that Santa really rode on Christmas night,
and Christmas Wishes did come true, just like I knew they had,
For Santa came on Christmasn night and brought me home my dad.
© 2005 Michael Marks
Used with permission
"My Lonely Christmas"
As I lay down to sleep, this eve of Christmas morn,'
I slide between the cotton sheets so comfortable and warm.
A tinge of guilt comes over me followed by a saddened tear.
I say another lonely prayer that only God can hear.
I turn the bedside light off and quickly settle in,
but it will be a few more hours before my night comes to an end.
I lie here all but motionless, eyes wider than the sky.
I try to think of happy thoughts, but I still break down and cry.
I punch my flattened pillow and lie flat on my back.
I'm thinking of my soldier who's bravely serving in Iraq.
I finally stop my crying and a calm sets in my heart.
For, I know this year will quickly pass, then we'll no longer be apart.
My eyes are feeling heavy now, so I send God one last prayer.
"God, please protect my soldier while fighting over there!"
© 2005 Bradley A Peraino
Used with permission
Determined though scared, I walk my beat,
On the deadly streets of Baghdad.
Searching for any who plot our harm,
Or by our death are joyous and glad.
Standing in shadows caused by the moon,
I'm reminded of my nights back home.
I wonder if the woman I love
Is growing tired of sleeping alone?
I feel remorse for all who live here,
For this place is a madman's hell.
And those who wish to keep it that way
Must be killed or locked away in jail.
My greatest fear is not my death,
But that I'll end up in a wheelchair.
Disabled for the rest of my life,
Depending on others for my care.
My wife, she prays for my safe return,
As night and day more GI's are killed.
She knows quite well, whatever it takes,
The oath I've given will be fulfilled.
© 2005 Tom Zart
Used with permission
Glittering lights on house eves,
Canvas backdrop sky, so dark.
Santa, reindeer, sleds and stars,
Angels blowing trumpet horn.
Holiday wishes to each and all,
Blessings for, great next year.
Music, songs, season’s cheer,
New joy of Christmas tears.
Hustle and bustle, gifts to get,
Yet forget, that blood was let.
Baby born of divine birth,
Creator’s Son, purpose sent.
Gift of heart, heaven’s love,
Hearts to open now receive.
Honesty of heart confess,
Repentance gains forgiveness.
Innocent Babe in manger lay;
Guilt of man, his fate.
Father’s light, invitation,
Shepherds’ path by star.
Wise men’s gifts by starlight,
Frankincense and myrrh.
Beginning of a new embrace,
Fresh new, covenant of love.
Reason of sky’s starry light,
Markers through life’s night.
Christ the Babe, born to die,
Purpose of the Christmas light.
© Dec.15, 2004
Roger W Hancock
www.PoetPatriot.com
Babe born in Bethlehem,
Heaven’s boundless birth.
Living Bread of life;
To live, broken bread to die.
Son of David born,
To sit on David’s throne.
Shepherds, from angels, heard,
City of David; Savior’s birth.
Prophesy from House of Bread,
Ancient city of David.
Prophesy fulfilled,
Christmas purpose born.
God’s lamb; mutton and bread,
Broken sacrificial life.
Living bread, true bread,
Eternal life endures.
© Dec.16, 2004
Roger W Hancock
www.PoetPatriot.com
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, and 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 your pack, brush the snow from you sleeve,
You should be at home 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,
The he sighed and he said, "It's 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 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 son 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 you wife and your son."
Then his eyes 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.
Author Unknown
The President has authorized the Department of Defense
to assist Santa with the Twelve Days of Christmas.
Status of acquisitions follows:
Day 1- Partridge in a pear tree:
The Army and Air Force are in the process of deciding whose
area of responsibility Day 1 falls under. Since the partridge
is a bird, the Air Force believes it should have the lead.
The Army, however, feels trees are part of the land component
command's area of responsibility. After three months of
discussion and repeated OpsDepsTank sessions, a $1M study has
been commissioned to decide who should lead this joint program.
Day 2 - Two turtle doves:
Since doves are birds, the Air Force claims responsibility.
However, turtles are amphibious, so the Navy-Marine Corps team
feels it should take the lead. Initial studies have shown that
turtles and doves may have inter-operability problems. Terms
of reference are being coordinated for a four-year, $10M DARPA
study.
Day 3 - Three French Hens:
At State Department instigation, the Senate Committee on Foreign
Affairs has blocked offshore purchase of hens, from the French or
anyone else. A $6M program is being developed to find an
acceptable domestic alternative.
Day 4 - Four Calling Birds:
Source selection has been completed, with the contract awarded to
AT&T. However, the award is being challenged by a small
disadvantaged business.
Day 5 - Five Golden Rings:
No available rings meet MILSPEC for gold plating. A three-year,
$5M accelerated development program has been initiated.
Day 6 - Six Geese a-Laying:
The six geese have been acquired. However, the shells of their
eggs seem to be very fragile. It might have been a mistake to
build the production facility on a nuclear waste dump at former
Air Force base that was closed under BRAC.
Day 7 - Seven Swans a-Swimming:
Fourteen swans have been killed trying to get through the Navy
SEAL training program. The program has been put on hold while
the training procedures are reviewed to determine why the washout
rate is so high.
Day 8 - Eight Maids a-Milking:
The entire class of maids a milking training program at Aberdeen
is involved in a sexual harassment suit against the Army. The
program has been put on hold pending resolution of the lawsuit.
Day 9 - Nine Ladies Dancing:
Recruitment of the ladies dancing has been halted by a lawsuit
from the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell Association." Members claim they
have a right to dance and wear women's clothing as long as they're
off duty.
Day 10 - Ten Lords a-Leaping:
The ten lords have been abducted by terrorists. Congress has
approved $2M in funding to conduct a rescue operation. Army
Special Forces and a USMC MEU(SOC) are conducting a "NEO-off"
competition for the right to rescue.
Day 11 - Eleven Pipers Piping:
The pipe contractor delivered the pipes on time. However, he
thought DoD wanted smoking pipes. DoD lost the claim due to
defective specifications. A $22M dollar retrofit program is in
process to bring the pipes into spec.
Day 12 - Twelve Drummers Drumming:
Due to cutbacks only six billets are available for drumming
drummers. DoD is in the process of coordinating an RFP to obtain
the six additional drummers by outsourcing; however, funds will
not be available until FY 09.
As a result of the above-mentioned programmatic delays, and due
to a High OPTEMPO that requires diversion of modernization funds
to support current readiness, Christmas is hereby postponed until
further notice.
Author Unknown
The History of The 12 Days Of Christmas
There is one Christmas Carol that has
always baffled me. What in the world
do leaping lords, French hens, swimming swans,
and especially the partridge who won't come
outof the pear tree have to do with Christmas?
From 1558 until 1829, Roman Catholics
in England were not permitted to practice
their faith openly. Someone
during that era wrote this carol as a catechism
song for young Catholics. It has two levels of
meaning: the surface meaning plus a hidden
meaning known only to members of their church.
Each element in the carol has a code word for a
religious reality which the children could
remember.
The partridge in a pear tree was Jesus
Christ. Two turtle doves were the Old and New
Testaments. Three French hens stood for
faith, hope and love. The four calling birds
were the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke &
John. The five golden rings recalled the Torah
or Law, the first five books of the Old
Testament. The six geese a-laying stood for the
six days of creation. Seven swans a-swimming
represented the seven-fold gifts of the Holy
Spirit-Prophesy, Serving, Teaching, Exhortation,
Contribution, Leadership, and Mercy. The eight
maids a-milking were the eight beatitudes. Nine
ladies dancing were the nine fruits of the Holy
Spirit- Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness,
Goodness Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self
Control. The ten lords a-leaping were the ten
commandments. The eleven pipers piping stood for
the eleven faithful disciples. The twelve drummers
drumming symbolized the twelve points of belief in
the Apostles' Creed.
Author Unknown
Night Before Christmas - Aviation Style
'Twas the night before Christmas, and out on the ramp,
Not an airplane was stirring, not even a Champ.
The aircraft were fastened to tie downs with care,
In hopes that come morning, they all would be there.
The fuel trucks were nestled, all snug in their spots,
With gusts from two-forty at 39 knots.
I slumped at the fuel desk, now finally caught up,
And settled down comfortably, resting my butt.
When the radio lit up with noise and with chatter,
I turned up the scanner to see what was the matter.
A voice clearly heard over static and snow,
Called for clearance to land at the airport below.
He barked his transmission so lively and quick,
I'd have sworn that the call sign he used was "St. Nick".
I ran to the panel to turn up the lights,
The better to welcome this magical flight.
He called his position, no room for denial,
"St. Nicholas One, turnin' left onto final."
And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a Rutan-built sleigh, with eight Rotax Reindeer!
With vectors to final, down the glideslope he came,
As he passed all fixes, he called them by name:
"Now Ringo! Now Tolga! Now Trini and Bacun!
On Comet! On Cupid!" What pills was he takin'?
While controllers were sittin', and scratchin' their head,
They phoned to my office, and I heard it with dread,
The message they left was both urgent and dour:
"When Santa pulls in, have him please call the tower."
He landed like silk, with the sled runners sparking,
Then I heard "Left at Charlie," and "Taxi to parking."
He slowed to a taxi, turned off of three-oh
And stopped on the ramp with a "Ho, ho-ho-ho..."
He stepped out of the sleigh, but before he could talk,
I ran out to meet him with my best set of chocks.
His red helmet and goggles were covered with frost
And his beard was all blackened from Reindeer exhaust.
His breath smelled like peppermint, gone slightly stale,
And he puffed on a pipe, but he didn't inhale.
His cheeks were all rosy and jiggled like jelly,
His boots were as black as a cropduster's belly.
He was chubby and plump, in his suit of bright red,
And he asked me to "fill it, with hundred low-lead."
He came dashing in from the snow-covered pump,
I knew he was anxious for drainin' the sump.
I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work,
And I filled up the sleigh, but I spilled like a jerk.
He came out of the restroom, and sighed in relief,
Then he picked up a phone for a Flight Service brief.
And I thought as he silently scribed in his log,
These reindeer could land in an eighth-mile fog.
He completed his pre-flight, from the front to the rear,
Then he put on his headset, and I heard him yell, "Clear!"
And laying a finger on his push-to-talk,
He called up the tower for clearance and squawk.
"Take taxiway Charlie, the southbound direction,
Turn right three-two-zero at pilot's discretion"
He sped down the runway, the best of the best,
"Your traffic's a Grumman, inbound from the west."
Then I heard him proclaim, as he climbed thru the night,
"Merry Christmas to all! I have traffic in sight."
Author Unknown
Merry Christmas, My Friend
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
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.
On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.
With medals and badges, awards of all kind,
a sobering thought soon came to my mind.
For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen.
This was the home of a U.S. 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 in his one-bedroom home.
He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,
Not how I pictured a U.S. 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 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 around the Nation, the children would play,
And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,
because of Marines 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 I 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 and still.
I noticed he shivered from the cold night's 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, globe 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 Corps 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, it's Christmas Day, all secure."
One look at my watch and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight.
Cpl. James Schmidt
"Leatherneck" magazine 1991
Source:snopes.com
Correction submitted by: Angela Jefferies
The Night We Gunned Down Santa Claus
There's strange things done 'neath the Vietnamese sun
But the time that locked my jaws
Was the night 'neath the moon, when the third platoon
Gunned down Santa Claus.
It started off right, just another night,
You had to spend in the dirt.
Security was out, 360 about
With fifty percent alert.
We had 81s and naval guns.
Our tanks were track to track.
An ontos or so, an arty fo'
With barrages back to back.
I froze where I stood, 'cause out of the wood,
Eight horses came charging along.
This may sound corny, but those mustangs were horny,
My God, I thought, mounted Viet Cong.
He was coming our way in what looked like a sleigh,
You never know what they will use.
Our flares were tripped; our SIDS had flipped,
Our Tipsy's blew a fuse.
We let him get close, then yelled, "Who goes?"
Like they do in the movie show.
The answer we got, believe it or not,
Was a hearty, "Ho, Ho, Ho".
Now these troops of mine have seen some time,
They've done some things back-assward.
They may be thick, but I'll tell you a trick,
They knew that wasn't the password.
The nineties roared, the 81s soared,
The naval guns raised all hell.
A bright red flare flew through the air,
We fired our FPL.
I'll give him guts, but that man was nuts,
Or I'm a no good liar,
He dropped like a stone in our killing zone,
I passed the word, "Cease fire".
I went out and took a real good look,
My memory started to race;
My mind plays games when it comes to names,
But I never forget a face.
He was dressed in red, and he looked well fed,
Older than most I'd seen.
He looked right weird with that long white beard,
And stumps where his legs had been.
He hadn't quite died when I reached his side,
But the end was clearly in sight,
I knelt down low and he said real slow,
"Merry Christmas, and to all a good night."
Now we should have known our cools were blown,
When that light in the east we had seen.
I thought it was flares, and it had to be theirs,
Or the damned things would have been green.
I picked up the hook and with a voice that shook,
I said, "Gimme the six, quick."
"Colonel", I said, "Hang onto your head,
We just greased old Saint Nick."
Now the old man's cool, he's nobody's fool,
Right off he knew the word.
If this word got out, there'd be no doubt,
He wouldn't be making his bird.
"Just get him up here and we'll play it by ear,
Make sure he's got a tag;
Dismantle the sleigh; drive those reindeer away,
And bury that big red bag."
Now by and by the kids may cry,
Cause nothing's under the tree;
But the word came back from the FMFPAC,
That Santa had gone VC.
There's strange things done 'neath the Vietnamese sun,
But the time that locked my jaws,
Was the night 'neath the moon, when the third platoon
Gunned down Santa Claus.
Courtesy Third MARDIV
Bring Us Home Again
He slowly came awake today
and he lumbered to his feet,
for it was just two hours
before that he faded off to sleep.
He donned the day's attire and
grabbed his M-16.
He headed off to breakfast to keep
him strong and lean.
As he walked down to the chow line
he kept a watchful eye.
He didn't want the enemy
to take him by surprise.
As the chaplin said a special prayer
on this very special day,
he kept thinking of his family
that is oh so far away.
He rubbed his left breast pocket
where he keeps a picture of his wife
and a letter from his daughter that
he reads most every night.
He fought back a single tear
as he stared out at the sand,
wishing he could be back home
with his family close at hand.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts
and then be on his way.
He's defending our great country
and has little time to play.
When he got out to the fence line,
his buddy by his side,
he exchanged a "Merry Christmas"
followed by a tired sigh.
He climbed upon the watchtower,
his mouth a tiny grin.
He said, "Merry Christmas to the world"
and "God, please, bring us home again".
~Bradley A. Peraino~
God bless our troops
(Used With Permission)
A Holiday Tribute to TROOPS in Iraq
by A Proud 82nd Airborne Mom of Spc. DJMJ
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