Here's a terrific poem, sent to me by the Conservative Voice
'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 home did live.
I looked all about, a strange sight I did see, no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by 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 rest of this inspiring poem can be read at the Conservative Voice
The title (which I didn't give up front so as not to spoil the surprise):
Marines 'Twas the night before Christmas