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“Merry Christmas, My Friend” by LCpl James M Schmidt, USMC, 1986
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.
Originally posted by Laughing Man
^^^^^ poetry is a creative outlet. You're making it out to be to literal.
[edit on 21-12-2005 by Laughing Man]
Originally posted by kozmo
Anyone in your family an active member of the Marines? Any of you immediate family a Marine Vet? If not, that may be why this doesn't "Fit" for you.
My grandfather was a Marine stationed in South Pacific During WWII; he was also a CO during the invasion of Iwo Jima. He survived the war, was highly decorated and shared many stories with us about the war. Today I have two cousins serving with the Marines in Iraq and two cousins serving in the Army in Iraq. Both poems hit home with me.
I just thought that maybe a little perspective might help.
Originally posted by devilwasp
Originally posted by Laughing Man
^^^^^ poetry is a creative outlet. You're making it out to be to literal.
[edit on 21-12-2005 by Laughing Man]
I'm just pointing out that it is VERY patriotic and very pro troops, nothing wrong with that but It just felt a little...off to me....sorry if this offends.
Originally posted by curme
I find that a lot of what people claim is "patriotism" is merely narcissism.