It’s a long story, but, after my Mom died, I began talking to and corresponding with her childhood best friend. I think I’ve really only talked to and written to Chris a handful of times. I’m a poor correspondent. Now that we’re having our house worked on, I’ve been going through all of the piles of papers that get to be everywhere. I found a poem that Chris sent me. My mom wrote it, in high school. It’s about Christmas, so I thought I would share it here.
Merry Christmas Soldier ??
Yes, it ’twas the night before Christmas and all through the night
Not a sound was stirring, nothing but fright.
The men were all lined in their foxholes with fear
Knowing the Viet Cong soon would be there.
There wasn’t a soldier nestled snug in a bed.
Nor sugar plums dancing in anyone’s head.
The only thing thought of that cold winter night
Was the terror of bloodshed and the feeling of fright
That men and their tommys, rifles, or gun
Could not settle down till their mission was done
The pale moon frowned on the blood spotted snow
While a few distant stars gave an uncanny glow.
When out of the dark rose such a clatter
Each soldier knew well what was the matter
Like lightening the bullets raged with a flash
From right and from left the soldiers did dash
Pellets of fire shooting out through the air
Notified all the Viet Cong was there.
Parts of bodies and persons near dead
Bedecked the white snow with a cruel bloody red
The battle went raging on through the night
With one wish to see Christmas morn if they might.
Suddenly like magic at the break of dawn
The last of the enemies horror was gone
For those who yet lived to see Christmas morn,
Knew well what it meant for Christ to be born
This was a Christmas they’d never forget
For almost in person the Savior they met.