Sunday, 14 December 2008
 

A Soldier's Silent Night
Contributed by Bill Faith

If the audio player doesn't work for you click here.

This is an obvious adaptation of "Merry Christmas, My Friend," which I posted here, but it's very well done. Blackfive has more information here.

Contributed by Bill Faith on December 14, 2008 at 01:44 AM in Christmas | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Friday, 28 November 2008
 

Having some trouble getting in the mood this year?
Contributed by Bill Faith

The Sands Of Christmas

I had no Christmas spirit when I breathed a weary sigh,
and looked across the table where the bills were piled too high.
The laundry wasn’t finished and the car I had to fix,
My stocks were down another point, the Dolphins lost by six.

And so with only minutes till my son got home from school
I gave up on the drudgery and grabbed a wooden stool.
The burdens that I carried were about all I could take,
and so I flipped the TV on to catch a little break.

I came upon a desert scene in shades of tan and rust,
No snowflakes hung upon the wind, just clouds of swirling dust.
And where the reindeer should have stood before a laden sleigh,
eight hummers ran a column right behind an M1A.

A group of boys walked past the tank, not one was past his teens,
Their eyes were hard as polished flint, their faces drawn and lean.
They walked the street in armor with their rifles shouldered tight,
their dearest wish for Christmas, just to have a silent night.

Other soldiers gathered, hunkered down against the wind,
To share a scrap of mail and dreams of going home again.
There wasn’t much at all to put their lonely hearts at ease,
They had no Christmas turkey, just a pack of MREs.

They didn’t have a garland or a stocking I could see,
They didn’t need an ornament-- they lacked a Christmas Tree.
They didn’t have a present even though it was tradition,
the only boxes I could see were labeled “ammunition.”

I felt a little tug and found my son now by my side,
He asked me what it was I feared, and why it was I cried.
I swept him up into my arms and held him oh so near
and kissed him on the forehead as I whispered in his ear.

There’s nothing wrong my little son, for safe we sleep tonight,
our heroes stand on foreign land to give us all the right,
to worry on the things in life that mean nothing at all,
instead of wondering if we will be the next to fall.

He looked at me as children do and said its always right,
to thank the ones who help us and perhaps that we should write.
And so we pushed aside the bills and sat to draft a note,
to thank the many far from home, and this is what we wrote,

God bless you all and keep you safe, and speed your way back home.
Remember that we love you so, and that you’re not alone.
The gift you give you share with all, a present every day,
You give the gift of liberty and that we can’t repay.

©Copyright December 2003 by Michael Marks
Used with the author's permission.

Contributed by Bill Faith on November 28, 2008 at 11:56 PM in Christmas, Michael Marks | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Wednesday, 26 December 2007
 

Is it too late for one more Christmas post?
Contributed by Bill Faith

I thought it was till I saw this:

Thank you 1st Sergeant C.J. Grisham.

Contributed by Bill Faith on December 26, 2007 at 03:13 PM in Christmas | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

Tuesday, 25 December 2007
 

Merry Christmas, y'all
Contributed by Bill Faith

You aren't going to find a better Christmas message anywhere than Fred Thompson's. Check this out:

Folks, I apologize for not doing a better job of finding and posting new Christmas material this year. I should have dug out a copy of The Sands of Christmas about a month ago, read it three or four times, kicked myself in the ass and started rounding up Christmas material. Anyway I didn't and it's too late now, but please take a few minutest to enjoy our Old War Dogs Christmas collection here and maybe my personal collection here; there's some overlap but it's far from 100%.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year all, and especially our men and women in uniform.

Contributed by Bill Faith on December 25, 2007 at 12:01 AM in Christmas | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Sunday, 11 November 2007
 

James Hooker: "Kids" - Christmas 1944
Contributed by Bill Faith

See James's entire post, including a link to a much better version of the video, here.

Contributed by Bill Faith on November 11, 2007 at 12:10 AM in Christmas, The American Warrior, WW II | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Monday, 25 December 2006
 

Merry Christmas all, and especially our troops
Contributed by Bill Faith

I didn't hold back anything special to post right at Christmas -- I'd rather allow time for things to be seen and passed on -- but please check out our Old War Dogs Christmas collection here and my collection here, and do not miss Greyhawk's Christmas post here.

***

I'll be adding to my post here as the day goes on, including some images I won't post here in deference to our dial-up guests. Come see me.

Contributed by Bill Faith on December 25, 2006 at 11:59 PM in Bill Faith, Christmas | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBack

Christmas Remembered...
Contributed by Bobbie (OWB)

Christmas in a War Zone simply can never be forgotten. Fortunately, the Christmas I spent in one was quiet so we actually got to remember why the date is significant, sing some songs, even exchange some presents.

It was a rather odd place to be on that Christmas in 1990. We were a stationary base in the UAE but didn't seem to be on any maps, had trouble getting mail, and were under very different rules than those serving in other locations. When the guys sorting the mail finally did figure out that we existed, we suddenly became the dumping ground for "To Any Soldier" letters and boxes. By mid-December, we had accumulated a pile of boxes about 40' x 60' x 10' tall. Something simply had to be done.

The shooting war hadn't started yet. We were all pretty bored with life in the desert. We had C-130's, lots of them, and plenty of folks looking for something to do. The chaplain came up with an idea, but we first needed to open all the boxes and see what we had. Somebody kept the return addresses, while others sorted, so that the senders could be contacted.

What we found was that we had enough stuff to provide goodie bags for every soldier in a remote location in theater! The Prince of our Emirate got involved and gave us materials to make festive bags and ties. So, the C-130 Elves went to work, making and stuffing bags. How (or if) they got clearance to make the air drops, I will never know, but some low level flights were made, bags dropped, and some very lonely guys had extra toothpaste, razors, cookies, candies, small puzzles and other small items that year.

On Christmas Day, we all got together around tent city, had groups of carolers, played Christmas music, and shared what we had with each other. We had built a Christmas Tree from mosquito netting and sticks sitting on the porch of my sleeping tent. That tree had a LOT of visitors, with it's makeshift ornaments and the string of lights someone found in one of those boxes. It felt like an old-fashioned Christmas.

Aaahhh. The sands of the desert that Christmas held a special importance that year. As the sands swirled around, with the smells of that desert air, it was not difficult to imagine what life was like on that first Christmas, the evening that Christ was born. Perhaps some of the very sand we walked on that night had been walked on before by one of the prophets, maybe even Jesus himself.

Everyone who has served in a war zone has special memories of the times of isolation, with comrades in arms, being away from family on significant days, missing the births, the illnesses, and especially the holidays. As we reflect on our lives and our service, most of us have memories of those times together that not only can never be forgotten but are an integral part of who we are today. As strange as it may seem, that Christmas of 1990 is among the best times of my life, and I wouldn't have missed it for anything, except perhaps Peace on Earth.

Contributed by Bobbie (OWB) on December 25, 2006 at 08:15 PM in Christmas | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Prayerful Thanks to all "Sheepdogs"
Contributed by Bill Faith

This poem is my response to this post by BlackFive. [BF note: Russ's poem.]

God bless ya'all sheepdogs
2spotlefty

The wolves at bay,
All thanks to you,
No one can say,
How much they'd do,
In damage done,
To liberty,
But for sheepdogs,
She's history.

Keep safe now,
And win the war, ...

***

A Very Special Christmas Present

There's a special present under the tree this year.
Wrapped in paper of red, white, and blue.
I walked in to find the children,
Constructing it especially for you.

Their little hands were covered with glitter,
Bits of paper scattered everywhere.
I had to quietly laugh at seeing them
With glue stuck in their hair. ...

Contributed by Bill Faith on December 25, 2006 at 01:22 PM in Bill Faith, Caring about our troops, Christmas, Poetry | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Sunday, 24 December 2006
 

To Our Sheepdogs
Contributed by Russ Vaughn

It’s so easy to forget them there,
As we warm beside the fire,
Those spread so far out everywhere,
Those sent to man the wire.
Patrolling on the front line,
As peacefully here we bask,
Protecting what is yours and mine,
That’s their hard, dreary task.

Like sheep we are protected,
From the far off wolves of war,
And our Sheepdogs as expected,
Never waver from their chore.
In peace we sheep ignore their kind,
Wary of their violent trends;
But when the wolves attack we find,
These Sheepdogs are our friends.

Forever this has been the way,
Since time for us began,
Sheep fearing that the Sheepdogs may
Disrupt our placid plan.
Yet time again Dogs surely prove,
When comes a wolfine danger,
The Sheepdogs will most swiftly move
To guard the lambs, the manger.

So here’s to Sheepdogs everywhere
At this Christmas time of year;
Just know the flock is with you there,
And we wish you Christmas cheer.
We wish we could advance the clock,
Cause truth is, Dogs, we miss you,
To the day that you’ll rejoin the flock,
When we’ll sheepishly then kiss you.

Russ Vaughn

To more fully understand the “Sheepdogs” reference, the reader should also read On Sheep, Sheepdogs, and Wolves and A Paratrooper Responds to Sheepdogs.

This poem was posted earlier this morning at American Thinker.

Contributed by Russ Vaughn on December 24, 2006 at 02:00 AM in Caring about our troops, Christmas, Poetry, Russ Vaughn, The American Warrior | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Merry Christmas
Contributed by The Gray Dog

As we near Christmas Day, I look back at this year of exceptional blessings, not the least of which was an invitation to participate at Old War Dogs.  I want to wish each and every Old War Dog the merriest of Christmases and also to offer the same sincere wishes to our troops who on this Christmas will stand in harms way, thousands of miles from home.  I hope that each of you will that stumbles across my blog will keep them in your hearts and prayers this Christmas season. 

Click to watch a Merry Christmas to our Troops.

Contributed by The Gray Dog on December 24, 2006 at 12:54 AM in Caring about our troops, Christmas, Current Affairs, Music, Open Posts, The Gray Dog | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

Friday, 22 December 2006
 

The good Samaritan and the Marines
Contributed by Bill Faith

The good Samaritan and the Marines 
Michelle Malkin

The Christmas spirit is alive and well:

As far as Stacey Kible is concerned, Santa drives a Ford Windstar.

Kible was despairing that her son Matt Kible, a 20-year-old Marine, would not make it home for Christmas. Matt, who is stationed in Japan, was stranded at San Francisco International Airport. He was told that he probably wouldn't be able to get a flight to Denver until Christmas Day.

Matt Kible met three fellow Marines at the airport, all of them trying to get back to Denver. Two were returning from Iraq.

The four young Marines commiserated that they might not be able to be with their families at Christmas. None of them was old enough to rent a car, and the blizzard that descended on Denver seemed about to ruin their plans.

"Our hopes and dreams were shot when they told us we couldn't get home for Christmas Eve," said Chris Redlin, a 21-year-old Marine from Aurora who is also stationed at Okinawa.

Then a stranger came bearing gifts. ...

Contributed by Bill Faith on December 22, 2006 at 04:17 PM in Bill Faith, Caring about our troops, Christmas, US Marine Corps | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Friday, 15 December 2006
 

Wreaths Across America
Contributed by Bill Faith

Rest easy, sleep well my brothers.
Know the line has held, your job is done.
Rest easy, sleep well.
Others have taken up where you fell, the line has held.
Peace, peace, and farewell …

Read Michelle's whole post here.

Contributed by Bill Faith on December 15, 2006 at 08:07 PM in Bill Faith, Caring about our troops, Christmas, The American Warrior, US Air Force, US Army, US Coast Guard, US Marine Corps, US Navy | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Ho, Ho, Ho (Chi Minh)! Kerry, Kerry, Christmas!
Contributed by Bill Faith

I wasn't going to post any more Christmas stuff on this site. In the case of this particular item, I'd even decide to take Zero's advice and just  let lying dogs sleep and not post this one at all  this year. Dumb ass hasn't learned a thing.

The Night Before Christmas (Cambodian Version)

Twas the night before Christmas and we were afloat
Somewhere in Cambodia in our little boat.
While the river was lightened by rockets red glare
No one but the President knew we were there.

The crew was all nestled deep down in their bunks,
While the Spook and I watched the sampans and junks.
Our mission was secret, so secret in fact,
No one else would remember it when we got back.

When out on the water there arose such a clatter
I leaped down from the bridge to see what was the matter.
The incoming friendly was starting to flash
And I knew that the ARVN's were having a bash.

The snap of friendly fire on the warm tropic air
Convinced me for sure no one knew we were there,
On a clandestine mission so secret it's true
That I'm still convinced only Tricky Dick knew.

While I huddled for safety in the tub on the bow,
I thought of a title, "Apocalypse Now."
To give to the films I was I making each day
To show all the voters when I made my big play.

As I sat there sweating in my lucky flight jacket,
Spook said, "Merry Christmas!" and tossed me a packet.
And what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a new lucky cap, which I still have right here.

I keep it tucked here, in this leather brief case,
Just sharing with the press its secretive place
As I regale them again with my senate refrain,
That Christmas in Cambodia is seared into my brain.

Don't bother to quibble with history my friend,
By pointing out Johnson was President then.
Don't listen to Swiftees who try to explain,
For I tell you that night is seared into my brain.

Down Hibbard, down Lonsdale, and you too O'Neill,
So you don't remember? Well it's something I feel.
I don't need all you Swiftvets to support my campaign,
Cause Christmas in Cambodia is seared into my brain,

Into my brain, into my brain, into my brain...

Russ Vaughn
2d Bn, 327th Parachute Infantry Regiment
101st Airborne Division
Vietnam 65-66

Contributed by Bill Faith on December 15, 2006 at 10:18 AM in Bill Faith, Christmas, Jean Fraud Kerry, Poetry, Russ Vaughn | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Tuesday, 28 November 2006
 

May It Be
Contributed by The Gray Dog

There are hundreds if not thousands of Flash tributes circulating the blogosphere.  Tonight I humbly offer mine.  The pictures are not mine, the music is not mine and the brave men and women who are the subjects of these images are not me.  I have simply combined the artistic photographs of others and a hauntingly beautiful celtic melody with the men and women of valor to produce this simple offering.

May It Be

Contributed by The Gray Dog on November 28, 2006 at 09:45 PM in Afghanistan, Caring about our troops, Christmas, Coming home, Iraq, Music, Patriotism, Thank you, The Gray Dog | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBack

Sunday, 26 November 2006
 

Merry Christmas My Friend // A Soldier's Silent Night
Contributed by Bill Faith

Rather than load down this site with the amount of Christmas poetry and music I'll be posting in the next month I guess I should just say once "Click here to see my 2006 Christmas posts and check back often."

I just posted "A Soldier's Silent Night" and "Merry Christmas My Friend," the original poem on which it was based.

I guess I need to email Tony and ask his attitude about copying entire poems from the IWVPA site. For now, just a couple of notes: 1. "Merry Christmas My Friend" first appeared in Leatherneck Magazine and has been emailed without proper attribution so much I consider it to be pretty much "public domain." 2. After the first time I posted part of a Michael Marks piece I got email from him telling me it was OK to post all of anything of his I wanted to. (Come to think about it, that's pretty much how Russ and I started staying in touch too.) Until I've discussed it with Tony I won't copy all of anything off his site except in cases where I have the original author's permission (which is the same way I treat any other site on the web).

Contributed by Bill Faith on November 26, 2006 at 12:35 AM in Bill Faith, Christmas, Music, Poetry | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Friday, 24 November 2006
 

A Soldier's Christmas
Contributed by Bill Faith

[Update: I prepared this post well over a week ago and told TypePad to post it automatically this morning with no further help from me. It's strictly fortuitous coincidence that doing so resulted in a post containing a link to the IWVPA site landing directly above Tony's first Old War Dogs post. I just happen to link to his site quite a bit, and have been for a couple of years now.]

I guess when Russ Vaughn and the girl I took to my Junior Prom send me the same poem maybe that means I really oughta post it. Email from Russ in early November:

Bill, I know this has been around a while but it's still a damned good poem. Wish I'd written it. ...

Some clarification is in order here. The email I received from Russ, and the one from the old girlfriend, ended with these paragraphs:

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.

It should be noted here that LCDR Giles did not write "A Soldier's Christmas," nor does he claim to. It was written by Mr. Michael Marks, several of whose works are collected here, including including some others you'll recognize and at least one of which I've posted in the past.

Thank you, LCDR Giles, for your service to our nation and for helping get the word out about a great piece of poetry.

Here, in it's entirety, is my post from about a year ago (I have email from Michael containing permission to post the whole thing):

This is a re-post from last year; it's still excellent. Thank you Subsunk for reminding me about it (Do read his related post.)

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 eye 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”

“Its 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 sisters and brothers
who stand at the front against any and all,
to insure 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.”

©Copyright December 07, 2000 by Michael Marks

   

Author’s Notes:

A Soldier's Christmas was the first in this series of patriotic writings, drafted on Pearl Harbor Day 2000 when in the wake of the 2000 Presidential Election our nation saw the right of US Armed Forces personnel openly questioned and debated. I felt it unconscionable that at the onset of the Christmas season, those serving to defend our nation would hear anything but our love and support. It is our challenge to stand for their rights at home while they stand for our lives and safety overseas. This poem went out and quickly spread around the world in emails, letters, magazines. I received letters from Marines in Bosnia, soldiers in Okinawa, from a submariner who xeroxed a copy for everyone on his sub. Moms wrote, dads, brothers and sisters. I have saved and cherish every letter and set out to continue writing throughout the year.

I was thinking about our servicemen overseas this Holiday Season and wrote the following in hope of bringing a small bit of Christmas cheer to active duty and veterans alike ... just a humble thanks and "God Bless." Please feel free to pass it along or post it as you see fit. Thank you.

Happy Holidays,
Michael Marks

Sources: here and here.

Contributed by Bill Faith on November 24, 2006 at 06:00 AM in Bill Faith, Christmas, Michael Marks, Poetry | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack