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A Soldier's Christmas...

n/an/a Member Posts: 168,427
edited December 2009 in US Military Veteran Forum
EDIT: I incorrectly attributed this poem to the wrong person. The real author emailed me and asked me to make a correction. Here is the email I received:

Jeff Giles has been incorectly cited as the author of "A Different
Christmas Poem". The poem is actually entitled "A Soldier's
Christmas" and was written by Michael Marks on December 7th, 2000.
The works of Mr. Marks have been featured in the Washington Times,
hang in the Titan Missile Museum, and are featured on the
International War Veteran's Poetry Archive at http://www.iwvpa.net/
marksm

I know, because I am Michael Marks. LCDR Giles simply forwarded my
poem long ago and had his email signature appended at the bottom,
later misinterpreted as an authorship attribution.

PLEASE edit your post as the error gets copied and sent along. I am
available via this email to further clarify if needed. Thanks for
helping me clear this up!

Warmest regards,

Michael Marks









> A Soldier's Christmas
> The embers glowed
> softly, and in their dim light,
> I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
> My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
> My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
> Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
> Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
> The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
> Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
> My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
> Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
> In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
> So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
>
> The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
> But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
> Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
> sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
> My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
> And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
> Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
> A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
>
> A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
> Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
> Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
> Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
> "What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
> "Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
> Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
> You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
>
> For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
> Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
> To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
> Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
> I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night." "It's
> my duty to stand at the front of the line,
> That separates you from the darkest of times.
> No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
> I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
> My Gramps died at ' Pearl on a day in December,"
> Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always
> remembers."
> My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ' Nam ',
> And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
> I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
> But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her
> smile.
>
> Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
> The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
> I can live through the cold and the being alone,
> Away from my family, my house and my home.
> I can stand at my post through the rain and the
> sleet,
> I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
> I can carry the weight of killing another,
> Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
> Who stand at the front against any and all,
> To ensure for all time that this flag will not
> fall."
>
> "So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
> Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
> "But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
> "Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
> It seems all too little for all that you've done,
> For being away from your wife and your son."
> Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
> "Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
> To fight for our rights back at home while we're
> gone,
> To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
> For when we come home, either standing or dead,
> To know you remember we fought and we bled.
> Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
> That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."
>
> PLEASE, Would you do me the kind favor of sending
> this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be
> coming soon and some credit is due to our
> U.S.service men and women for our being able to
> celebrate these festivities. Let's try in this
> small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make
> people stop and think of our heroes, living and
> dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.

Written by Michael Marks and passed along by:


> LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
> 30th Naval Construction Regiment
> OIC, Logistics Cell One
> Al Taqqadum, Iraq.

Comments

  • zipperzapzipperzap Member Posts: 25,057
    edited November -1
    Cleaned up.

    Posted?-?11/23/2006?:? 1:15:34 PM ? ? ?

    A Different Christmas Poem
    The embers glowed
    softly, and in their dim light,
    I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
    My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
    My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
    Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
    Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
    The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
    Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
    My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
    Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
    In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
    So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

    The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
    But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
    Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
    sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
    My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
    And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
    Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
    A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

    A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
    Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
    Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
    Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
    "What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
    "Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
    Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
    You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"

    For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
    Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
    To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
    Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
    I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night." "It's
    my duty to stand at the front of the line,
    That separates you from the darkest of times.
    No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
    I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
    My Gramps died at ' Pearl on a day in December,"
    Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always
    remembers."
    My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ' Nam ',
    And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
    I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
    But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her
    smile.

    Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
    The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
    I can live through the cold and the being alone,
    Away from my family, my house and my home.
    I can stand at my post through the rain and the
    sleet,
    I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
    I can carry the weight of killing another,
    Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
    Who stand at the front against any and all,
    To ensure for all time that this flag will not
    fall."

    "So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
    Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
    "But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
    "Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
    It seems all too little for all that you've done,
    For being away from your wife and your son."
    Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
    "Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
    To fight for our rights back at home while we're
    gone,
    To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
    For when we come home, either standing or dead,
    To know you remember we fought and we bled.
    Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
    That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."

    PLEASE, Would you do me the kind favor of sending
    this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be
    coming soon and some credit is due to our
    U.S.service men and women for our being able to
    celebrate these festivities. Let's try in this
    small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make
    people stop and think of our heroes, living and
    dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.



    LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
    30th Naval Construction Regiment
    OIC, Logistics Cell One
    Al Taqqadum, Iraq.
  • n/an/a Member Posts: 168,427
    edited November -1
    Thanks Zip![8D]
  • brucearnoldbrucearnold Member Posts: 1 ✭✭
    edited November -1
    quote:Originally posted by ECC
    EDIT: I incorrectly attributed this poem to the wrong person. The real author emailed me and asked me to make a correction. Here is the email I received:

    Jeff Giles has been incorectly cited as the author of "A Different
    Christmas Poem". The poem is actually entitled "A Soldier's
    Christmas" and was written by Michael Marks on December 7th, 2000.
    The works of Mr. Marks have been featured in the Washington Times,
    hang in the Titan Missile Museum, and are featured on the
    International War Veteran's Poetry Archive at http://www.iwvpa.net/
    marksm

    I know, because I am Michael Marks. LCDR Giles simply forwarded my
    poem long ago and had his email signature appended at the bottom,
    later misinterpreted as an authorship attribution.

    PLEASE edit your post as the error gets copied and sent along. I am
    available via this email to further clarify if needed. Thanks for
    helping me clear this up!

    Warmest regards,

    Michael Marks









    > A Soldier's Christmas
    > The embers glowed
    > softly, and in their dim light,
    > I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
    > My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
    > My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
    > Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
    > Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
    > The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
    > Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
    > My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
    > Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
    > In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
    > So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
    >
    > The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
    > But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
    > Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
    > sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
    > My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
    > And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
    > Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
    > A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
    >
    > A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
    > Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
    > Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
    > Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
    > "What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
    > "Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
    > Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
    > You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
    >
    > For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
    > Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
    > To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
    > Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
    > I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night." "It's
    > my duty to stand at the front of the line,
    > That separates you from the darkest of times.
    > No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
    > I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
    > My Gramps died at ' Pearl on a day in December,"
    > Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always
    > remembers."
    > My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ' Nam ',
    > And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
    > I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
    > But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her
    > smile.
    >
    > Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
    > The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
    > I can live through the cold and the being alone,
    > Away from my family, my house and my home.
    > I can stand at my post through the rain and the
    > sleet,
    > I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
    > I can carry the weight of killing another,
    > Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
    > Who stand at the front against any and all,
    > To ensure for all time that this flag will not
    > fall."
    >
    > "So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
    > Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
    > "But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
    > "Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
    > It seems all too little for all that you've done,
    > For being away from your wife and your son."
    > Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
    > "Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
    > To fight for our rights back at home while we're
    > gone,
    > To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
    > For when we come home, either standing or dead,
    > To know you remember we fought and we bled.
    > Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
    > That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."
    >
    > PLEASE, Would you do me the kind favor of sending
    > this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be
    > coming soon and some credit is due to our
    > U.S.service men and women for our being able to
    > celebrate these festivities. Let's try in this
    > small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make
    > people stop and think of our heroes, living and
    > dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.

    Written by Michael Marks and passed along by:


    > LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
    > 30th Naval Construction Regiment
    > OIC, Logistics Cell One
    > Al Taqqadum, Iraq.
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