Here is an invitation to tell you your experiences while spending the holidays in a combat zone.

I chose Christmas since I am a Christian.....and "Christmas in the Trenches" is one of my favorite songs. The song tells of British and German troops meeting in "No man's Land" to celebrate a brief few hours of peace during WW I before returning to killing each other.

While not nearly as moving as the title song, here is a little ditty we used to sing in Vietnam....and I sing it every year on Christmas morning....to the embarassment of my children and the chagrine of my wife. It is sung to the toon of "Jingle Bells"

Jingle Bells
Mortar shells
VC in the grass
You can take your Merry Christmas
And shove it up your a__

I have a poem I will share later when I get home and can copy and paste.

Merry Christmas and Semper Fi,
Dave

Here is another old favorite of mine. It was originally written by an anonymous Marine in Vietnam.

The Death of Santa Claus

Well, there’s strange things done
‘Neath the Vietnamese sun
But the time that locked my jaws
Was that night ‘neath the moon
When third platoon
Gunned down Santa Claus

Well, it started off right
Just an ordinary night
We had to spend in the dirt
Security was out
Three-sixty about
With fifty percent alert

We had eighty-ones
And naval guns
The tanks were track to track
An Ontos or so
And an Arty FO
With barrages back to back

I froze where I stood
Cuz outa them woods
Eight horses came running along
Now this may sound corny
But them mustangs were horny
My God, I thought
Mounted Viet Cong

He was coming our way
In what looked like a sleigh
But you never know what they’ll use
The flares were tripped
The SIDS had flipped
And the TIPSY blew a fuse

We let him close
Then we yelled, “Who goes?”
Like they do in the movie show
And the answer we got
Believe it or not
Was a hearty, “HO, HO, HO”


Now those troops of mine
They’d seen some time
And we’d done some thing bass-ackward
They may be thick
But I’ll tell you a trick
They knew that wasn’t the password

The eighty-ones soared
And the ninety’s roared
The naval guns raised some hell
A bright red flare
Flew through the air
We fired our FPL

I’ll give him guts
But that guy was nuts
Or I’m a no-good liar
He dropped like a stone
In out killing zone
And I passed the word
“Cease fire”

I went and took
A real good look
My memory started to race
My mind plays games
When it comes to names
But I never forget a face

He was dressed all in red
And he looked well fed
He was older than most I’d seen
He looked right weird
With that long white beard
And them stumps
Where his legs had been

He hadn’t quite died
When I reached his side
But the end was clearly in sight
I knelt down low
And he said real low
“Merry Christmas, and to all a good night”


We should have known
Our cool was blown
When the light in the east we seen
But it looked like flares
And it had to be theirs
Or the damned things would have been green

So I picked up the hook
With a voice that shook
And said, “Gimme the six and quick!”
“Colonel”, I said,
“Hang onto your head”
“We just greased old Saint Nick”

Now the Old Man’s cool
He’s nobody’s fool
Right off he knew the word
If this got out
There’d be no doubt
He wouldn’t be making his “bird”

“Just get him up here
And we’ll play it by ear
Make sure of his medevac tag
Dismantle that sleigh
Drive them reindeer away
And bury that goddamn bag”

Now by and by
The kids may cry
Cuz there’s nothing under the tree
But word just came back
From FMF Pac
That Santa had gone VC

Well there’s strange things done
Under the Vietnamese sun
But the time that locked my jaws
Was that time ‘neath the moon
When third platoon
Gunned down Santa Claus



Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Semper Fi,
Dave

Dave,

that is a HOOT... I love it....


thank you so very much for sharing that.

The meter for the death of Santa Claus originally come from a poem called the Creamation of Sam McGhee. About an gold miner that couldn't get warm in the 1849 Alaska Gold rush and after he "died" his pals creamated him in a derelict boat on the shore of a lake. After the fire got going hard and heavy his pals checked on him to see that there was nothing left to feed the bears. In the middle of the fire Sam yelled out "Shut the door! This is the warmest I have ever been.!"

"Strange things have been done under the midnight sun but the strangest ever seen was a night in March on lake Labarge when we creamated Sam McGhee! . . ."

Very good we enjoyed them both