Christmas in the Marines

I got this when I was in (66 to70). The Marines and former Marines I send it to enjoy it. You have to be a Marine to appreciate the poem.

Christmas in the Marines
provided by Dennis G.

T’was the night before Christmas,
And all through the Corps,
Not a soul had liberty,
And the troops were all sore.

We were all sacked out,
Every man in the lot,
In the bed of spikes
Called a Marine Corps cot.

When out on the lawn
There arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed
To see what was the matter
Completely out of breath,
I hid behind the door,
And with a pounding heart
I waited for more.

A roly-poly figure
Appeared on the scene,
And to my surprise it was
The Commandant of Marines

Yes it was the Commandant,
There was no doubt,
He was wearing a poncho,
Green side out

He tiptoed around
To each man’s rack,
And carefully inspected
Each rifle and pack.

To a chosen few,
A ninety-six chit!
But to the majority,
A ration of shit

As he pulled away, in his gold plated tank,
Pulled by ten colonels,
All bucking for rank, I heard him say,
As he said with a shout,

Merry Christmas you bastards
you’ll never get out!!!

Sgt Grit wants to hear from you! Leave your comments below or submit your own story!

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