Cota1992
Senior Airman
THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS -BASTOGNE
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Bastogne
Not a creature was stirring, not even a jeep,
I stood my sentry post in the CP by the chimney with care,
In hopes that my relief soon would be there;
The platoons were nestled all snug in their foxholes,
While visions of rampaging panzers danced in their heads;
And across the snowy fields in the dark woods,
The Germans had just settled down from singing Christmas songs,
When out in the rubble there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the shelter to see what was the matter.
Away through the door I flew like a flash,
Dove for cover and fumbled with my M-1.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be a nazi trick.
More rapid than thunderbolts his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and God knows what else too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on remains of the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew back the bolt, and was chambering a round,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Leaving all kinds of clothes and toys for the bombed out girls and boys,
And heaps of fresh treats for us Joes who'd had nothing but C Rations to eat,
As I clicked on the safety of my Garand and he turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he flew out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Bastogne
Not a creature was stirring, not even a jeep,
I stood my sentry post in the CP by the chimney with care,
In hopes that my relief soon would be there;
The platoons were nestled all snug in their foxholes,
While visions of rampaging panzers danced in their heads;
And across the snowy fields in the dark woods,
The Germans had just settled down from singing Christmas songs,
When out in the rubble there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the shelter to see what was the matter.
Away through the door I flew like a flash,
Dove for cover and fumbled with my M-1.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be a nazi trick.
More rapid than thunderbolts his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and God knows what else too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on remains of the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew back the bolt, and was chambering a round,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Leaving all kinds of clothes and toys for the bombed out girls and boys,
And heaps of fresh treats for us Joes who'd had nothing but C Rations to eat,
As I clicked on the safety of my Garand and he turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he flew out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
