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A friend of mine gave me a copy of this....it was
included in the NC Legionnaire's Newslett for NOV/DEC 2003 issue. Thought
maybe you would appreciate it, I know I do.
Bill Scott
A G.I.s version of "The Night Before
Christmas"
It was the night before Christmas, and all through
the tent
Was the odor of fuel oil (the stove pipe was
bent)
The shoe pacs were hung by the oil stove with
care.
In hopes that they'd get a new pair this
year.
The weary G. I.'s were sacked out in their
beds.
And the visions of sugar babes danced through their
heads.
When upon the ridge line there arose such a
clatter, a
Chinese machinegun has started to
chatter.
I rushed to my rifle and threw back the
bolt.
The rest of my tent mates awoke with a
jolt.
Outside we could hear our platoon sergeant,
Kelly.
A hard little man with a little pot
belly.
Come Yancy, Come Clancy, Come Conners and
Watson.
Up Miller, up Shiller, up Baker and
Dotson.
We tumbled outside in a swirl of
confusion.
So cold that each man could have used a
transfusion.
Get up on that hilltop and silence that
Red.
And don't come back till you're sure he is
dead.
Then putting his thumb in front of his
nose.
Sergeant Kelly took leave of us shivering
Joes.
But we all heard him say in a voice soft and
light.
Merry Christmas to all...May you live through the
night.
(The above poem was written by Cpl. Richard Byrd on
the
sixth of December. On the following day
Cpl. Byrd was slain
in action in
Korea)
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