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 Posted: Mon Apr 09, 2007 12:43 am
T'was 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 a far-away land.
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 house 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 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 families that I had just seen that night
Owed their lives to these men, so 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 the one lying here.
I couldn't help but 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 awakened 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. So still.
I noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.
So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
To cover this Marine from his toes to his head.
Then I put on his tee-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 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 good night!
That is all.
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Posted: Mon Apr 09, 2007 12:45 am
More Funny stuff for Jarheads. Pardon the cussing
"The Marine Infantryman"
As Seen By Himself:
A Stout, Handsome, Highly-Trained Professional Killer and Female Idol, who wears a star sapphire ring, carries a finely honed K-Bar, is covered with a crisp cammie cover and is always on time due to the reliability of his Seiko Diver's Watch.
As Seen By His Wife:
A stinking, gross, foul mouthed bum, who arrives home every 6 months or so with a seabag full of filthy utilities, a huge ugly watch, an oversized knife, a filthy hat, and a hard-on.
As Seen By Headquarters:
A drunken Brawling, HMMWV stealing, women corrupting liar, with a star sapphire ring, Seiko watch, unauthorized K-Bar, and a ******** up cover.
As Seen By His Commanding Officer:
A fine specimen of a drunken Brawling, HMMWV stealing, women corrupting bull shitter, with a star sapphire ring, fantastically accurate Seiko watch, finely honed razor sharp K-Bar, and a salty cammie cover.
As Seen By Headquarters Marine Corps:
An over paid, over-rated, tax burden, who is however, indispensable since he will volunteer to go anywhere, at any time, and kill whoever he is told to, as long as he can, drink, brawl, steal HMMWV's, corrupt women, kick cats, lie, sing dirty songs, wear filthy cammies, big Sapphire rings, over-sized knives, Seiko watches and really ******** up covers.
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