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Santa Claus and the Soldier |
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- The face was so gentle, the room in
such disorder,
- Not how I had pictured an Aussie
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,
- In 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 honour, so
willing to fight.
- When 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.
- Merry
Christmas my friend, and to all a good night.
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Designed to instill
patriotism, confidence, and a positive outlook, War Posters were used
extensively during WWI & WWII to assist the military and persuade all
Americans to help with the war effort.
Using stark
imagery to elicit powerful emotions, the posters appealed to people's
conscience, fears and ideals of freedom and democracy.
The posters
called upon every man, woman, and child to make personal sacrifices or
adjustments to further the greater national cause.
Used for the purposes
of recruitment, boosting production, motivation, rationing, conservation,
security and financing the War, the posters linked the home front with the
military front.
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The
Medic’s Christmas Poem
"'Twas the night before Christmas as I flew o'er the Army Post,
when I spied a young man who seemed out of place.
His eyes showed compassion, his hair a bit short,
but his head was held high and his body was strong.
His air was confident, his uniform smart,
but what impressed me most was the size of his heart.
For he embodied honor, one of this country's best,
and the words U.S. Army showed large on his chest.
As I stood there in wonder and gazed into his eyes,
the words that he spoke took me quite by surprise.
"What's wrong Santa, haven't you ever seen a Medic before?"
I sensed something special and longed to know more.
"To be honest, this field thing wasn't part of my plan,
but the Army didn't give me a hospital or garrison."
The words he spoke next surprised me all the more,
"But I'm as proud of my Unit as I am of the Army!"
"Don't worry Santa, that I'm a Medic you see,
for when a Soldier goes down they will still call on me.
They'll forget I'm a Soldier, they'll call in my stock.
At the top of their lungs they'll yell ,"Medic!"
"And I'll answer that call, anytime, anywhere.
Though I know I'm a target I really don't care.
I'll face incoming fire as I race cross the land,
and use my very own body to shield a downed man."
"Working long hours and into the night,
my unit's battle is over, but I'm just starting to fight.
For the life of every Soldier is sacred to me.
I refuse to surrender them to death, and in that I'll find
victory."
"And yet I'll take the time to comfort a dying man,
to sit down by his side, to reach out and hold his hand.
For it takes as much courage to care as to fight.
For just as the poem says, many don't "go gently into that
night."
"Santa, it's not any one uniform that makes you a man,
but rather it's those ideals for which you choose to stand.
I draw my line here, it's long and it's plain.
For pain, hurt and suffering are the things I disdain."
I know very well that I may lose my life,
So that a Soldier may see an unmet child and young wife.
So Santa, it really doesn't matter if they don't like my hair.
I'm a Army Medic, their Doc, and I'll always be there."
"I follow the brave docs who have come long before,
from North Africa, Korea, and Vietnam’s shore.
As history proudly shows, they all gave their best,
and for those who have died, surely they're blessed."
"At Inchon, the Gulf and times during Tet,
our brothers have fallen, but we carry on yet.
For we carry their honor and legacy still."
As I held back my tears it took all of my will.
I had to leave him there for I had other plans,
but I knew in my heart that the Army is in good hands.
As I flew away I heard his laughter, it rang so loud and clear.
"Hey Santa, how 'bout a nice pair of boots for the 26 miler next
year?" |
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