Twelve Days of a Modern Christmas

On the first day of Christmas a quiet patrol, Streets almost deserted, we barely saw a soul. On the second day of Christmas another easy day Everybody it seemed keeping out of our way. On the third day of Christmas suicide bombers struck Killing those travelling in an old beat-up truck On the fourth day of Christmas a retaliatory attack Relatives of yesterday’s dead striking back. On the fifth day of Christmas back to a relative calm No evidence of anybody suffering any harm On the Sixth day of Christmas, we could all hear The crack of sniper rifles seeming far too near. On the seventh day of Christmas peace broke out Again an eerie silence as our patrol moved about On the eighth day of Christmas the Padre conducted prayers And called for the understanding of all parties out there. On the ninth day of Christmas the truce held still As if being maintained by sheer force of will On the tenth day of Christmas with tour’s end in sight Mortar bombs whined in breaking up the night On the eleventh day of Christmas our tour came to an end And we were replaced by more rested men On the twelfth day of Christmas resting back at base A forty-eight-hour break before return to that awful place