A Christmas Poem
to the United States Army Security Agency
 and the Outstanding People Who Made 
That Organization Great 

When we were gone for soldiers, we served in a hundred lands,
in a hundred climes. 

When we were gone for soldiers, we sometimes lived like princes,
and often times were treated like dogs. 

When we were gone for soldiers, we often drank to excess, 
trying to still the demons within. 

When we were gone for soldiers, we were involved in three major wars,
several minor skirmishes and a constant cold war. 

When we were gone for soldiers, we did not practice for war, but conducted 
operations the same as we would in war. 

When we were gone for soldiers, we were feared abroad and reviled at home. 

When we were gone for soldiers, we defeated all our enemies. 

When we were gone for soldiers, our enemies spoke in arcane and enigmatic tongues;
but because of our skills, we could interpret what they said. 

When we were gone for soldiers, we provided flank security for our comrades, 
we were in the forefront of every advance and constantly protected all formations. 

When we were gone for soldiers, we served with combat arms units, 
but were not ourselves in the combat arms. 

When we were gone for soldiers, we used the accouterments of those units to which we
were assigned. We jumped from airplanes, flew those airplanes, worked from those 
airplanes, rode in armored vehicles and went on battalion combat operations,
 but we were scorned by those we supported as not being "combat" soldiers. 

When we were gone for soldiers, we saw the world turn upside down and our male 
world became co-educational. And our education continued, and soon we were not 
"male soldiers," and "female soldiers," but soldiers. And soon again we learned to 
improve our skills, or be found wanting by our new comrades. 

When we were gone for soldiers, others were saluted in song and story, while our 
successes were written in a locked ledger and our lips and very psyches were sealed. 

When we were gone for soldiers, we saw many comrades fall, and we also saw too 
many white marble crosses and stars and too many names chiseled in black granite. 

When we were gone for soldiers, we suffered the same scars as our combat brethren, 
both physically and mentally. 

When we were gone for soldiers, and the most complex and endless war was ended - 
the cold war that was also a hot war - we rejoiced , but still we could not tell our stories. 

When we were gone for soldiers, we left the battlefield to younger comrades 
and retired to our quiet homes to dream of when we were gone for soldiers. 

May you have a very happy Christmas, a delightful Chanukah, and may whichever God 
you pray to, offer you peace, solace and everlasting happiness - you've earned it.