Carry On Santa, All Is Secure

 Here's one of my favorite poems, it hits me to the core every bloody time!

                Happy and Healthy Holiday Season and a prosperous New Years.

                                     Here's wishing good will and Peace to all.

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.

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

A UNITED STATES 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

WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT.

SOON ROUND THE WORLD,

THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY,

AND GROWNUPS 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 HONOR

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.

Carry on Santa, it's Christmas Night, all is secure

Twas the Night After Christmas.....

A Holiday poem from one of our SMG Club members who moved away earlier this year.

Twas the night after Christmas, when all through Krieghaus,
Not a panzer was stirring, not even a Maus;
The figures were stored in their boxes with care,
In hopes that another game soon would be there.

The gamers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Gettysburg danced in their heads,
Cap’n Ron in his ‘kerchief, and Jeff in his cap,
Had just settled in for a Krieghaus nightcap.

When out in the lot there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from Krieghaus to see what was the matter.
Drinks in their hands. they ran like the wind,
To open the door – who wanted in?

The moon on the puddles of rain in the gutter,
Gave the luster of mid-day to objects a ’flutter;
More rapid than eagles the gamers they came,
And whistled, and shouted – Dude, they came to game!

As leaves before hurricanes fly in a flurry,
The gamers burst in – they’re in a hurry!
So in to the table-top the gamers they flew,
With packs full of figs - and a few dice or two.

They spoke not a word, but went straight to their work,
And set up their armies; then turned with a jerk,
And laying their rulers aside of their cannon
They measured the distance and rolled with abandon.

And then in a twinkling, was heard in the place
The firing of muskets, and cannon with grape.
They added their mods, and were rolling some dice,
Morale checks were made – not once but then twice!

They sprang to their feet, having rolled very well,
Fist pumping the air, a story to tell.
And they all then exclaimed, while adjusting their aim
Merry Christmas all, and to all a good game!

Happy Holidays from "sunny and warm" Boston...

Bob Walton

⛄