| Afghanistan Christmas |  |
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Twas the night before Christmas and all thru the land,
The wind had quit blowing the trash and the sand.
The troops
on the watch had their Night Vision on,
Scanning horizons,
hither and yon.
Down in the mess hall they're baking fresh
bread,
The rest of the soldiers are snug in their bed
Suddenly radios blasted with chatter,
So I sprang from my cot
to see what was the matter.
A surveillance drone was coming
back home,
And the radar return showed it wasn't alone.
Someone or something was trailing our plane,
Not drafting
like NASCAR, but there just the same.
Missiles and rifles
were aimed at the sky,
When a curious sight, filled every
eye.
Nine reindeer pulling a bearded fat man,
Dressed up
in camo of brown, black and tan.
Right o'er the walls of
the compound he came,
Whistling and calling the reindeer by
name.
Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer and Vixen,
On
Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen.
And Rudolph remember,
DO NOT BLINK YOUR NOSE!
I don't want my sleigh to be shot
full of holes.
The sleigh wasn't normal, �twas a customized
one,
The permit attached said AREA 51.
The whole rig
touched down as light as a feather,
Despite bulging bags of
cards, presents and letters.
Santa was smiling, his grin ear
to ear,
He got right to work, spreading good cheer.
Enlisted and Officers, everyone there,
Got something from
someone back home where they care.
Cookies and candy and
Pepperidge Farm,
T-shirts and thermals to help us stay warm.
Cards full of pictures of babies and wives,
Put smiles on our
lips, and tears in our eyes.
Then Santa climbed up on the
back of his sleigh,
So we gathered round to hear what he
would say.
You soldiers, he said, are far from your home,
And sometimes you feel like you're out here alone.
These
things, from your families, are their tokens of love,
To
their everyday heroes, which you are, every one.
You don't
think you're special, but take it from me,
You give the best
gift, it's called liberty.
Then Santa saluted and shook
all our hands,
And said he had more stops in Afghanistan.
With nary a sound, the sleigh rose and was gone,
Ol'
Santa was humming that old Army song.
The last thing he told
us as he left that night;
Merry Christmas to all, and to all
a good night.
After he left we went back to our beds,
And lay there just thinkin' 'bout what he had said.
None of
us feel like a hero of course,
We're just wearin' camo and
fightin' a war.
Nothin' but soldiers, doin' a job,
Servin' our country, HOOAH, HOOAH!
Now, some
won't believe that this story is true,
But they didn't have
deer turds, stuck to their boots.
Doubt if you want to and
call me insane,
But I've got the camouflage strip with his
name. | By Ken B. Harper
Copyright 2011
Listed December 1, 2011 |
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