Marine Corps Christmas poem

Hopefully this doesn't get outta hand, but I discovered a whole new world of Christmas poems about the Corps! Here's a silly one to start the Christmas season!

Let the madness of the holidays begin! :)


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

Yes, every Marine,
Every Marine in the lot.
Lay on a rack of nails,
Called a Marine Corps cot.

When out on the Parade Deck,
There arose such a clatter.
I sprang from my cot,
To see what was the matter.

With bayonet in hand,
I moved stealthily to the door.
And waited to see,
If there was something more.

T’was the Commandant of Marines,
Of this there was no doubt.
Because he wore a poncho,
With the green side out.

He quietly moved from rack to rack,
And carefully inspected each rifle and pack.
To a chosen few he left a 96 chit,
But to the majority he gave a ration of sh*t.

And as he pulled away in his gold plated tank,
Pulled by ten captains all bucking for rank.
I heard him say, and he said with a shout,
Merry Christmas Marines, you'll never get out!