Written By: Birl Brown
On the eve-edge of Christmas of 1944
The weary 2nd Armored was resting a bit:
Hitler had stormed into Belgium’s back door
And trampled the Ardennes throwing a fit.
The 2nd used one of the old Nazi lairs,
Where a holiday dinner was hoped to occur,
When a message of urgency came down the stairs,
With orders to promptly crank and bestir
Much further north, into ice and hard cold.
We covered the bumper insignias from spies.
We gassed our vehicles and warmed up to roll
Northward, to remedy Belgium’s surprise.
The hills were horrific, the ice frozen fast,
The tanks were all sliding on hillside and fen
And soldiers half frozen were moving at last:
Through -40° weather, the conquest began.
Hitler’s new missiles, those V-1 things,
Were missing their targets, and falling far short.
One could see rivets, and ice on the wings
As they sputtered their way, into the wrong court.
Both we, and our allies, were strong-minded boys,
Shoving back Germans and ruining their toys;
We had missed Christmas because of their fling,
But they did the gambling, and lost everything!