IN MEMORIAM

“In Memoriam” is intended as an eulogy, or a poem
in memory and praise of one who has died.

"They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them."

~~~~~

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It is with great sadness that today, the 1st of December 2022, Allan (Mort) passed away peacefully. After a long battle with cancer he is now at peace.

He was much loved by his family, friends and by his beloved club, brothers of the Vietnam Veterans MC – Gippsland Chapter. A Life Member of the Chapter and staunch Memorial Rider and advocate for our Veterans.

~~~~~

​T'was the night before Christmas.

He lived all alone, in a one-bedroom house made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give to see just who, in this dwelling did live.

As I looked all about, a strange sight to see. No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
On the wall hung pictures of far distant lands. Medals ‘n badges, awards of every kind; a sobering thought came alive in my mind.

This house was different… it was dark, it was dreary.

I had found the home of a soldier; I could see that most clearly. The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone; Curled up on the floor in this one-bedroom home. His face was so gentle, the room in such disorder; not at all how I pictured a brave, courageous, soldier.

Was this the hero of whom I’d just read; curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?

Then I realized the other families I saw this night, owed their lives to soldiers who were willing to fight. In the morning, round the world, children would play; grown-ups would celebrate a bright Christmas Day. But they all enjoy freedom each month of the year, because of soldiers like the one lying here.

I couldn’t help but wonder how many lay alone, on a cold Christmas Eve in lands far from home. The very thought Brought a tear to my eyes; I dropped to my knees, I started to cry.

The soldier awakened I heard his rough voice, “Santa don’t cry, this life is MY choice. I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more; my life is my God, My country, My corps.” The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep.
But I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep. I kept watch for hours, so silent and still as both of us shivered from the cold night’s chill. I didn’t want to leave him on that cold, dark night; this guardian of honour, so willing to fight.

Then, the soldier rolled over, in a voice soft and pure, He whispered, “Carry on Santa, it’s Christmas Day, all is secure”. One look at my watch, I knew he was right.

Merry Christmas my friend, May God bless you this night.

Poem by: James M. Schmidt 1986 
With a slight change of wording, the poem has become known as “A Soldier’s Silent Night,” and was recorded under that title by Father Ted Berndt as a tribute.
The original poem “Merry Christmas, My Friend”