The Soldier

The Soldier

 

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 home did live.

I looked all about,

A strange sight I did see,

No tinsel, no presents,

Not even a tree.

No stockings 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 mine.

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.

His face was so gentle,

The room in disorder,

Not how I pictured

An Australian soldier.

Was this the hero

Of whom I’d just read?

Curled up on a poncho,

The floor for a bed

 

 

 

 

I realised 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 solider awakened,

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 did not want to leave,

On that cold, dark, night,

This guardian of honour,

So willing to fight.

Then the solider 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,

“Merry Christmas my friend,

and to all, a good night.”

 

 

This poem was written by an Australian Peacekeeping soldier stationed overseas.   The following is his request:

PLEASE, would you do me the kind favour of sending this to as many people as you can?  Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to all of the 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 sacrifice themselves for us.