SUBSIM Radio Room Forums - It was the night before Christmas

Merry Christmas to you all, dear friends.
Someone used to post this every Christmas, but since no one else did this year, I do it...

It was the night before Christmas

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T'was the night before Christmas and all through the boat,
the flooding had stopped, we were safely afloat.
The sausage and hams slowly swayed from above,
the interior reeked like an old sweaty glove.

The crew were all resting in hammocks and racks,
enjoying a break from the recent attacks.
To break the damp chill, all wrapped up in my sweater,
I had just settled down to read an old letter.

When out on the hull there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my cot to see what was the matter.
Away to the control room I ran like a flash,
climbed up the ladder and flew out the hatch.

The Moon on the wave-tops and fresh falling snow,
gave a sparkle like diamonds to the the deck just below.
When what to my tired aching eyes should I see,
perched there on the stern rather precariously.

A vision, a memory, a dream I do fear,
sat a miniature sleigh with eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and thick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than tracers His coursers they came
and he whistled, and shouted and called them by name.
Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now Prancer and Vixen!
On Comet! On Cupid! On Donder and Blitzen!

To the top of the flak, to the top of the wall,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!
As windblown snow in a tempest does fly,
when it meets with an obstacle, explodes to the sky!
So up to the clouds the coursers they flew,
with a sleigh full of toys and St Nicholas too.

And then in a twinkling the vision was gone,
darkness closed in, six hours till dawn.
as I drew in my head and was turning about,
a lookout pointed and exclaimed with a shout!

"Smoke on the horizon, off to the east!"
Alarm bells were ringing, our turn to feast.

Ten knots, then twelve, then fourteen we were flying,
in quest for more tonnage a ship needed dying.
All stations were manned, the diesels were roaring.
From wave-top to wave-top at times we were soaring!
Our prey now in sight, just a few miles more,
the torpedoes were ready, "OPEN OUTER DOORS!"

The vessel we chased was a bleak sight I should say.
It was battered and burned and could barely make way.
As I scanned the ship's bridge, in search of the crew,
a figure was seen, the Captain I knew.

The stump of his pipe he held tight in His teeth
and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He was chubby and plump, a short merry old elf,
I felt a tear when I saw him, in spite of myself.

Filled with compassion and sorrow and woe,
I held back from the trigger that night in the snow.

With a wink of my eye and a nod of my head,
soon gave him to know he had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word but returned to his work,
headed back to his cabin then turned with a jerk.

He yelled to his crew now gathering near,
and away they all flew motivated by fear.
But I heard him exclaim as he moved out of sight,

"Merry Christmas to All, and to All a Good Night."