From: Darrell Ramsell (daram@comcast.net)
Date: Sat Dec 11 2004 - 11:52:41 PST
Thanks Kenny!
----- Original Message -----
From: "Kenny Reed" <kreed@pintoeng.com>
To: "Military Vehicles Mailing List" <mil-veh@mil-veh.org>
Sent: Thursday, December 09, 2004 5:38 PM
Subject: [MV]
> 'Twas the Night Before Christmas
> (A Marine version)
>
> '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.
> 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.
>
> Written by James M. Schmidt in 1987
>
> Kenny Reed
> 1968 M35A2 W/W, Whistler
>
>
>
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