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the end. it was writen by a soldier and many of them will be coming home soon. |
One look at my watch, And I knew he was right, 'Merry Christmas my friend, And to all a good night.' |
Then the soldier rolled over, With a voice, soft and pure, Whispered, 'Carry on Santa, It's Christmas Day, all is secure.' |
I didn't want to leave, On that cold, dark night, This guardian of honor, So willing to fight. |
I kept watch for hours, So silent and still, And we both shivered, From the cold night's chill. |
The soldier rolled over, And drifted to sleep, I couldn't control it, I continued to weep. |
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more, My life is my God, My country, my corps.' |
The soldier awakened, And I heard a rough voice, 'Santa, don't cry. This life is my choice. |
The very thought brought A tear to my eye, I dropped to my knees, And started to cry. |
I couldn't help wonder, How many lay alone, On a cold Christmas Eve, In a land far from home. |
They all enjoyed freedom, Each month of the year, Because of the soldiers, Like the one lying here. |
Soon round the world, The children would play, And grownups would celebrate, A bright Christmas Day. |
I realized the families, That I saw this night, Owed their lives to these soldiers, Who were willing to fight. |
Was this the hero, Of whom I'd just read?, Curled up on a poncho, The floor for a bed? |
The face was so gentle, The room in such disorder, Not how I pictured, A British soldier.. |
The soldier lay sleeping, Silent, alone, Curled up on the floor, In this one bedroom home. |
For this house was different, It was dark and dreary, I found the home of a soldier, Once I could see clearly. |
With medals and badges, Awards of all kinds, A sober thought, Came through my mind. |
No stocking by the mantle, Just boots filled with sand, On the wall hung pictures, Of far distant lands. |
I looked all about, A strange sight I did see, No tinsel, no presents, Not even a tree. |
