Twas the night before Christmas... in my bunk I'm laying alone. My wife and kids are getting ready to open presents far, far away back at home.My M9 in its holster is hanging next to my bed with care. I'd love to use it on a Taliban as he gives me that cold "infidel" stare.
My roommate is also in the Navy... an American asleep in his rack. While down the hall... a coalition of nations slumbers through another midnight rocket attack.
This Christmas is different, we're away from the ones we love the most. But being here is a gift to the Afghans... a gift of something called "hope."
No, I'm not a warrior, a soldier who fights in the field. On patrol... always in danger... a cold M-R-E for a Christmas Eve meal. Me... I'm just a public affairs officer... a PAO and now the truth is revealed.
My contribution isn't as important as the guys in the convoys... the moutains... the troops looking for a fight. I fight the war writing stories and editing video until the wee hours of the night.
But when you hear of their glory and their sacrifice in the Times, the Gazette or live on CNN... It was I who passed the word of these brave women and men. I am the messanger with an important story to tell... so history never forgets this coalition and the missions they led.
To my wife and children, Daddy misses you with all his heart. Christmas Susan just isn't the same when we're apart.
And to my band of brothers whom this Christmas we share... you are your nation's finest... I would serve with you again... anytime, anywhere.
So on this Christmas Eve while I lay nestled in my bed... and visions of my children on Santa's lap dance in my head... I count my blessings... my family, my country, a cause that is right.
And while I may be far, far away... a Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.
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