'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through War Thunder
The players were upset, at Gaijin's latest blunder
The tankers were all camped, behind the enemy spawn
While pilots flew low, mowing the lawn
The enemy planes, they circled our field
While we all climbed up, refusing to yield
And I in my Corsair, and my friend in his Yak
Getting swarmed left and right, constantly under attack
When suddenly from behind, guns making a clatter,
I quickly checked six, to see what was the matter
Down to the ground, I dove like a Stuka
The player who missed me chatted out "Cyka!"
The sun on the crests of newly-made waves,
Gave a luster of shininess to the screenshots we saved
When what to my wandering eye should appear,
But a Mig-17 and jets of very low tier
With an old graphics driver not so lively, nor quick
It took me a moment to realize I had been dicked
More rapid than Eagles from wagers the enemy came,
As orders were issued, targeting our team by name
"Now Spitfire, now Zero, now Chaika and Mosquito
Shoot, Mustang! Shoot, Tempest! Shoot, Dora and Flying Dorito!
To the top of the cap zone, to the brink of a stall!
Now run away, run away, run away all!"
As bombers before a Twin Mustang do flee
We ran for our lives, fast as a Lightning named 'Yippee!'
So up to the clouds, our Corsairs they flew
With a load of bombs, and machine guns too
And then, in the distance, I saw a small dot
Thought we'd been saved, then knew we had not
As I extended my flaps, was turning around
Flew forth the cannon shells, shooting me down
My pilot was injured, from his head to his foot
His plane was aflame, covered in soot
A parachute of silk he had flung on his back
He muttered a prayer as he flung open that pack
His eyes - how they burned! His demeanor, how weary!
He could picture the repair bill, picture it clearly!
He saw below him our tanks, lined up in a row
Belching forth flame as they drove through the snow
The thought of the grind had him gnashing his teeth
As he looked upon the battle progressing beneath
He longingly gazed towards the point to be capped
Cursed as he saw most of our tanks had been trapped
But he'd not given up, not now, not yet
Would our team be victorious? Hopefully so, but possibly nyet!
But then a turn of his face, a shift of his head
He saw IS-2's, he filled up with dread
He spoke not a word, went straight to his work
Called out enemy positions, said where they did lurk
The enemy advanced, we held on by a nose
But then the Sky Raider came, and his hopes did arose
He sprang to attention, to his team gave a whistle
He screamed with delight as our savior fired his missile
And I heard him exclaim, as enemy tanks were blown out of sight,
"Victory is ours, on this glorious Christmas night!"
Borrowed from Reddit, thought you would all enjoy! Merry Christmas War Thunder!