soldiers christmas poem

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    This is doing the email rounds so I thought I's post it.

    SOLDIER

    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 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 mantle, just boots filled with sand,

    On the wall hung pictures, of far distant lands.

    With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,

    A sober thought, came through my mind.

    For this house was different, it was dark and dreary.

    I found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.

    The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone,

    Curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home.

    The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder,

    Not how I pictured an Australian soldier.

    Was this the hero, of whom I'd just read?

    Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?

    I realised the families that I saw this night

    Owed their lives to these soldiers, who were willing to fight.

    Soon round the world, the children would play,

    And grown-ups would celebrate a bright Christmas Day.

    They all enjoyed freedom, each month of the year

    Because of the soldiers like the one lying here.

    I couldn't help wonder, how many lay alone,

    On a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.

    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."

    The soldier rolled over, and drifted to sleep,

    I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.

    I kept watch for hours, so silent and still,

    And we both shivered from the cold night's chill.

    I didn't want to leave, on that cold, dark night,

    This guardian of honour so willing to fight.

    Then the soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure,

    Whispered "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."

    This poem was written by an Australian Peacekeeping soldier stationed
    overseas. The following is his request. I think it is reasonable. Would
    you do me the kind favour of sending this to as many people as you can?
    Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to all of the
    service men and women for our being able to celebrate these
    festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we
    owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who
    sacrificed themselves for us.
    Please, do your small part to plant this small seed.
 
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