'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!