{"id":2410,"date":"2015-01-08T11:46:57","date_gmt":"2015-01-08T09:46:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/joke-archives.com\/?p=2410"},"modified":"2015-01-08T11:46:57","modified_gmt":"2015-01-08T09:46:57","slug":"a-military-christmas","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.joke-archives.com\/?p=2410","title":{"rendered":"A Military Christmas"},"content":{"rendered":"

Note: This is the original version, written by former Lance Corporal James M. Schmidt, stationed in Washington DC in 1986. The full version of the story behind this poem can be read at Snopes.com<\/a>.<\/p>\n

\n

Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
\nIn a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone. <\/p>\n

I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
\nand to see just who in this home did live.<\/p>\n

As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
\nno tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
\nNo stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.
\nOn the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.<\/p>\n

With medals and badges, awards of all kind,
\na sobering thought soon came to my mind.
\nFor this house was different, unlike any I’d seen.
\nThis was the home of a U.S. Marine.<\/p>\n

I’d heard stories about them, I had to see more,
\nso I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
\nAnd there he lay sleeping, silent, alone,
\nCurled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.<\/p>\n

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,
\nNot how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
\nWas this the hero, of whom I\u2019d just read?
\nCurled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?<\/p>\n

His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan.
\nI soon understood, this was more than a man.
\nFor I realized the families that I saw that night,
\nowed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.<\/p>\n

Soon around the Nation, the children would play,
\nAnd grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
\nThey all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,
\nbecause of Marines like this one lying here.<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t help wonder how many lay alone,
\non a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.
\nJust the very thought brought a tear to my eye.
\nI dropped to my knees and I started to cry.<\/p>\n

He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice,
\n“Santa, don’t cry, this life is my choice
\nI fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more.
\nMy life is my God, my country, my Corps.”<\/p>\n

With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep,
\nI couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.<\/p>\n

I watched him for hours, so silent and still.
\nI noticed he shivered from the cold night’s chill.
\nSo I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
\nand covered this Marine from his toes to his head.
\nThen I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,
\nwith an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.
\nAnd although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
\nand for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.<\/p>\n

I didn’t want to leave him so quiet in the night,
\nthis guardian of honor so willing to fight.
\nBut half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure,
\nsaid “Carry on, Santa, it’s Christmas Day, all secure.”
\nOne look at my watch and I knew he was right,
\nMerry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Note: This is the original version, written by former Lance Corporal James M. Schmidt, stationed in Washington DC in 1986. The full version of the story behind this poem can be read at Snopes.com. Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone, In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone. I had […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[38,64],"tags":[370,960,1172],"class_list":["post-2410","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-mil","category-twas","tag-christmas","tag-marine-corps","tag-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.joke-archives.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2410","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.joke-archives.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.joke-archives.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.joke-archives.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.joke-archives.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2410"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.joke-archives.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2410\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.joke-archives.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2410"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.joke-archives.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2410"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.joke-archives.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2410"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}