Cold War

Starting my BAOR 20mm for the upcoming coldwar gone hot supplement ,first up are 3 chieftans one of which is sporting the natty Berlin Regiment Urban Camo .Just seen some pics of the real thing and the effect against buildings was amazing. http://baor-locations.co.uk/AVeh.aspx
All are Latayo  Diecasts

Xmas Poem

A poem forwarded to me by John Grayson.




T'WAS 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 FACE WAS SO GENTLE,



THE ROOM IN DISORDER,



NOT HOW I PICTURED,



A TRUE BRITISH SOLDIER.





WAS THIS THE HERO,

OF WHOM I'D JUST READ?



CURLED UP ON A PONCHO,

THE FLOOR FOR A BED?





I REALISED THE FAMILIES,



THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT,



OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS,



WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT.





SOON ROUND THE WORLD,



THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY,



AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE,



A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY.





THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM,



EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR,



BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS,



LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE.





I COULDN'T HELP WONDER,



HOW MANY LAY ALONE,



ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE,



IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME.





THE VERY THOUGHT BROUGHT,



A TEAR TO MY EYE,



I DROPPED TO MY KNEES,



AND STARTED TO CRY.





THE SOLDIER AWAKENED,



AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE,



"SANTA DON'T CRY,



THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE;





I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM,



I DON'T ASK FOR MORE,



MY LIFE IS MY GOD,



MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS...."





THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER,



AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP,



I COULDN'T CONTROL IT,



I CONTINUED TO WEEP.





I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS,



SO SILENT AND STILL,



AND WE BOTH SHIVERED,



FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL.





I DID NOT WANT TO LEAVE,



ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT,



THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOR,



SO WILLING TO FIGHT.





THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER,



WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE,



WHISPERED, "CARRY ON SANTA,



IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE."





ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH,

AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT.



"MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND,

AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT."





This poem was written by a Peacekeeping soldier stationed overseas. The following is his request. I think it is reasonable



PLEASE. Would you do me the kind favour of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to all of the service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us. Please, do your small part to plant this small seed.

Motörhead - 1916

16 years old when I went to the war,


To fight for a land fit for heroes,

God on my side, and a gun in my hand,

Chasing my days down to zero,

And I marched and I fought and I bled and I died,

And I never did get any older,

But I knew at the time that a year in the line,

Is a long enough life for a soldier,

We all volunteered, and we wrote down our names,

And we added two years to our ages,

Eager for life and ahead of the game,

Ready for history's pages,

And we brawled and we fought and we whored 'til we stood,

Ten thousand shoulder to shoulder,

A thirst for the Hun, we were food for the gun,

And that's what you are when you're soldiers,



I heard my friend cry, and he sank to his knees,

Coughing blood as he screamed for his mother,

And I fell by his side, and that's how we died,

Clinging like kids to each other,

And I lay in the mud and the guts and the blood,

And I wept as his body grew colder,

And I called for my mother and she never came,

Though it wasn't my fault and I wasn't to blame,

The day not half over and ten thousand slain,

And now there's nobody remembers our names,

And that's how it is for a soldier.