The name most often associated with the poem is is that of Air Force Lt. Col Bruce W. Lovely. He             says that he wrote             it in 1993 while stationed In Korea.
           
            An article on SpecialOperations.com says the poem was actually             written by Corporal James M. Schmidt, described as a former U.S.             Marine Scout-sniper and that is was published in LEATHERNECK             MAGAZINE in December of 1991, two years before Lt. Col Lovely             claimes to have written it.
Whoever wrote it is not as important as reading it. . . .
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS,
          HE LIVED ALL ALONE,
          IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF
          PLASTER AND STONE.
       
          I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY
          WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE,
          AND TO SEE JUST WHO
          IN THIS HOME DID LIVE.
       
          I LOOKED ALL ABOUT,
          A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE,
          NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS,
          NOT EVEN A TREE.
       
          NO STOCKING BY MANTLE,
          JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,
          ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES
          OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.
       
          WITH MEDALS AND BADGES,
          AWARDS OF ALL KINDS,
          A SOBER THOUGHT
          CAME THROUGH MY MIND.
       
          FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT,
          IT WAS DARK AND DREARY,
          I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER,
          ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY.
       
          THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING,
          SILENT, ALONE,
          CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR
          IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.
       
          THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE,
          THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER,
          NOT HOW I PICTURED
          A UNITED STATES 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,
          ON 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 HONOR
          SO WILLING TO FIGHT.
       
          THEN 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."
       
          This poem was written by a Marine stationed in Okinawa         Japan. The
         following is his request. I think it is reasonable.....
   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. Please, do your small part to plant this         small seed.
 
 
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