It had this poem with it.
I felt it needed to be shared....
The Christmas Message
Written by a U.S. Marine stationed on Okinawa, Japan
It 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 house did live.
I looked all about, a strange sight did I see, no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree. No stocking by the mantle, just boots filled with sand, on the wall hung pictures of faraway lands.
With medals and badges, and awards of all kind, a sober thought did come to my mind. For this house was different, it was dark and so dreary; I had found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone, curled up on the floor, in this tiny one bedroom home. The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder, not how I had pictured a United Stated Soldier.
Was this the hero of whom I’d just read? Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed? I realized the families that I saw this night, owed their lives to these soldiers that were willing to fight.
Soon round the world, the children play, and grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas Day. They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year, because of these soldiers, like the one lying here.
I could not help wonder, how many lay alone, on a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from home. The very thought of it, brought a tear to my eye. As I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
The soldier had awakened and I heard a rough voice, Santa don’t cry, for this life is my choice; “I’d fought for freedom, I don’t ask for more, my life is my God, my Country, and my corps.”
The soldier rolled over and drifted back off to sleep; I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep. I kept a watch for hours, so silent, so still, and we both shivered from the cold night’s chill. I didn’t want to leave him on that cold, dark, night, this “Guardian of Honor” so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over with a voice soft and pure, whispered; “Carry on Santa, its Christmas Day, all is secure.” One look at my watch, and I knew he was right.
(As printed in the December 1991 issue of the USMC magazine, Leatherneck)
MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY FRIEND
©Copyright circa 1991 by James M. Schmidt
'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
Comments
Message
Thank you for sharing, Chris. It's a very moving poem.
I can't help be reminded, however, of a tee shirt slogan I saw in my youth. "What if they had a war, and nobody came?"
The resources for war include the bodies, intelligence, strength of will, and idealism of our finest and bravest young people. There are many victims of war, not just the vanquished and the innocent, but the victors as well. Never forget the victims.
Choose peace.
Thanks
very moving.
We must never forget any victim of any war. People should never harbour ill feelings to a normal soldier for fighting, to them it is a job they do to feed their family and they are also victims of war's (not just the dead).
My twin brother (who is also my bestfriend) served a tour in Iraq with the reserve army for the UK (Terratorial Army). He has never spoken much about it, but the times he did still stick in my head. They show me how much I appreciate having him back safe and sound.
Interesting perspective
Does this have copywrite? Is the author known? I would like to distribute it further.
I have since searched the web. The original version (1986) and a history of this can be found at http://www.snopes.com/holidays/christmas/soldier.asp
Copywrite?
DeeJay,
I doubt that this poem does, with all the different versions out there. I don't see how it can be!
As for me, I'd just CYA with the header; Written by a U.S. Marine stationed on Okinawa, Japan.
"All of the versions get to me in the gut with the truism, and the way I feel," (sadness, proudness, support) for our troops that go in "HARMS WAY" to protect my freedoms, and my way of life!
HUGGELS
ChrisW
Attribution
Chris,
If you read the page at snopes.com, referenced above by Deejay, you'll see that the attribution you have is incorrect, although common. The original poem's true author was James M. Schmidt, a Lance Corporal stationed in Washington, DC when he wrote it in 1986. I've read the original version, too, and I think it reads better than the version that was altered to remove most of the Marine references. You should read the article, and maybe consider posting the original instead of the genericized (if that's a word) version you have.
That said, with due credit for the author, there is one remaining issue on this post.
Especially during this period where we celebrate the birth of Jesus, and his teachings about Peace, we should perhaps concentrate on mourning and healing all the victims of war, including those who fight it on our behalf, and should resolve to repudiate war rather than glorify it.
Choose Peace.
Copyright
I suspect you are inquiring about the Right to distribute copies rather than some form of Writing.
The word is copyright.