Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the camp
Not a creature was stirring, not even a tech.
The mukluk liners were hung by the Coleman with care,
In hopes that St Jimmy soon would be there.

The battalion was nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of end-ex danced in their heads.
And CSM in his shemagh, and I in my toque,
Had just settled our stomachs from a hard ration poop.

When out on the trench line there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my fartsack to see what was the matter.
Away to the door I flew like a flash,
Tore open the rain fly and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature rad-van, and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and angry,
I knew in a moment it must be St Jimmy.
More rapid than Jacks, his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now, Sunray! now, Moonbeam! now, Seagull and Nutshell!
On, Ironside! On, Starlight! on, Pronto and Bluebell!
To the top of the tent! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of COMSEC, and St Jimmy too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As logged into TACNET, and was turning around,
Down the stovepipe, St Jimmy came with a bound.

He was dressed all in CADPAT, from toe to tip,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and shit.
A bundle of Orders he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a hobo, just opening his rucksack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his beard, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as cammed as the snow.

The lip of dip, he held tight in his cheek,
Of whiskey and rage, did this SigOp reek.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a touch of his code,
Soon gave me to know I had fucked up my load.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the crypto, then turned with a jerk.
And laying a middle finger, up in the air,
Muttering about base WOGs not giving a care!

He sprang to his truck, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the engines of rockets.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, fucking hands out of pockets"