A Different Christmas Poem


B.T.'s sister, Maureen Collins Baker, will be at the Sacramento Fair Oaks Blvd Borders on Wednesday, June 4th, at 7pm autographing her new book, Outrageous Hero, The B.T. Collins Story. See you there!

Here's info about the book


I get alot of searches from people looking for info on my dear friend BT Collins. I check back on the google or yahoo page that brought them in, and I always find very inspirational websites. Today I stumbled across Ranger 25 - The web page of the 2nd Brigade - 1st Air Cavalry Division - United States Army, Airmobile Infantry - Vietnam.

They had a Christmas poem posted. I don't know the author.

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim
light, I gazed round the room and I
cherished the sight. My wife was asleep,
her head on my chest, My daughter beside
me, angelic in rest
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was
deep, Secure and surrounded by love I
would sleep. In perfect contentment, or
so it would seem, So I slumbered, perhaps
I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too
near, But I opened my eyes when it tickled
my ear. Perhaps just a cough, I didn't
quite know, Then the sure sound of
footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who
was near. Standing out in the cold and
the dark of the night, a lone figure stood,
his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
standing watch over me, and my wife and
my child.

"What are you doing?" I asked without
fear, "Come in this moment, it's freezing out
here! Put down your pack, brush the
snow from your sleeve, You should be at
home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment; I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in
drifts.. To the window that danced with a
warm fire's light. Then he sighed and he
said "Its really all right, I'm out here by
choice. I'm here every night."
"It's my duty to stand at the front of the
line, That separates you from the darkest
of times. No one had to ask or beg or
implore me, I'm proud to stand here like
my fathers before me.

My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in
December," Then he sighed, "That's a
Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of
'Nam', And now it is my turn and so,
here I am. I've not seen my own son in
more than a while, But my wife sends me
pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from
his bag, The red, white, and blue...
an American flag.
"I can live through the cold and the being
alone, Away from my family , my house and
my home. I can stand at my post through
the rain and the sleet, I can sleep in a foxhole
with little to eat. I can carry the weight of
killing another, Or lay down my life with my
sister and brother.. Who stand at the front
against any and all, To ensure for all time
that this flag will not fall."

"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no
fright, Your family is waiting and I'll be all
right." "But isn't there something I can do,
at the least, "Give you money," I asked,
"or prepare you a feast?" It seems all too
little for all that you've done, For being
away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no
regret, "Just tell us you love us, and never
forget. To fight for our rights back at home
while we're gone, To stand your own watch,
no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or
dead, To know you remember we fought and
we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will
trust, That we mattered to you as you
mattered to us.