'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the camp
All was clear, there were no terrorists.
My helmet was set on the desk to my right,
On the chance that I was to need it this night.
The Guardsmen were ensconced, asleep in their beds,
All the tanks too were safe, secure in the sheds.
RPs in the barracks, some manning the wall,
Assured me that this bastion never would fall.
When out in the parade square there arose such discord
I grabbed up my M16 and unsheathed my bayonet.
Away to the window, I ran to take aim
As the Guardsmen around me all did the same.
My NGV turned the night into day
Allowed me to see, and to seek out my prey.
When what did my SAF ocular show
But an ancient conveyance, sitting in the square.
The vehicle was pulled by horned quadrupeds
And a fiery red nimbus glowed from the sled.
The driver was mighty, his eyes full of scorn,
Dressed all in crimson like a garang peng lah.
I gestured for other to shoot without pause,
For I was now certain this was Santa Claus.
"Fire Commandos! Fire Guardsmen! Fire NDU! Fire Tankess and Riflemen!
Fire Matador! Fire M-16! Fire mortars and SAR!"
"You in the courtyard and you men on the walls!
Now blast away! Blast away! Blast away all!"
But all through this maelstrom the evil one flew,
Past bullets and mortar shells and grenades that we threw!
And then, in my horror, I heard on the roof
The decadent cavorting of each vile hoof.
Screaming my orders, I spun quickly around,
As down the staircase shaft it came with a bound.
I saw its eyes glow, its vast stomach gurgle,
Bloated and fat, like a White Horse of Tekong.
Blinded by anger, I attacked with a scream -
Charged into battle with my garang RPs.
As we thundered towards him, closing the rift,
He reached in his satchel and pulled out a gift.
Then it tossed the vile boxes - I fell in a stoop,
As they arced through the air at me and my troops.
The wrapped missiles fell short, and plopped at our feet,
Our morale was quite strong, we did not retreat.
But the soldiers paused - our charge was disrupted,
They picked up the gifts and were quickly corrupted.
For each box contained a chaotic present -
The soldiers (damn their souls), found them quite pleasant.
An FHM, a Maxim, a new "power fist",
The Claus gave to all, and he checked off a list.
It moved through the station and left in its wake,
The sound of bright laughter and the stench of bak kwa.
The others succumbed, but it failed in its goal,
For it gave to me only a small pile of coal.
The camp was lost, I could only instruct
The RSM to alert the DB Guards.
With extras and SOL and charging them to
the JDO and RPs came down with them too
I failed to kill him, for I saw as I fled
The target escaping, quite safe in his sled.
I heard it cry out as the MPs burst into the night,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
