Merry Christmas from The Gear Bunker

From the entire crew here at The Gear Bunker, we want to wish you and your families a very Merry Christmas.

We all hope this message finds you happy, healthy, and among friends & family. And for those deployed, we pray for your safe return once the job is done.

We’re all Veterans here at The Gear Bunker, and most of us have experienced the missed holidays with family, and it sucks. But we all knew what we signed up for and rarely complained about these situations. For the rest of us stateside, enjoy the time together, be thankful, and look forward to a prosperous new year.

Written by Lance Corporal James M. Schmidt. USMC

“Soldier’s Silent Night”

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 house did live.

I looked all about, a strange site I did see.
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the 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 those 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, so still,
and we both shivered from the cold night’s chill.

I didn’t want to leave on this cold, dark night
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
The soldier rolled over, with a soft voice and pure
whispered “Carry on Santa. It’s Christmas Day. All is secure”.