Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.I had come down the chimney, with presents to give and to see just who in this home did liveAs I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.With medals and badges, awards of all kind,a sobering thought soon came to my mind.For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen.This was the home of a U.S. Marine.I'd heard stories about them, I had to see more,so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone,Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.Was this the hero, of whom I’d just read?Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan.I soon understood, this was more than a man.For I realized the families that I saw that night,owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.Soon around the Nation, the children would play,And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,because of Marines like this one lying here.I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone,on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice,"Santa, don't cry, this life is my choiceI fight for freedom, I don't ask for more.My life is my God, my country, my Corps."With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep,I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.I watched him for hours, so silent and still.I noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,and covered this Marine from his toes to his head.Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.I didn't want to leave him so quiet in the night,this guardian of honor so willing to fight.But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure,said "Carry on, Santa, it's Christmas Day, all secure."One look at my watch and I knew he was right,Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight. -“Merry Christmas, My Friend” by LCpl James M Schmidt, USMC, 1986