The days leading up to Christmas 1914 on the western front in France were a brutal ordeal. Weeks of rain soaked filth- filled trenches wore out nerves of enemy and ally alike. British and German soldiers survived in these squalid conditions only meters apart. To raise one’s head over the trench meant possible death by sniper fire. The command to charge meant slogging through ankle deep mud into a firing squad of rifle and machine gun fire.
Excruciatingly high casualties plagued the British 8th Brigade. Insult then added to injury. The French pressured the 8th Brigade to charge en masse against the German breastworks on December 14. The failed attack pained the retreating British even more who were then required to watch many of their dead eerily suspend on barbed wire defenses.
More rain, deeper mud, higher casualties created a macabre scene. Throw into this mess the news of failed attacks and friendly fire falling short of German coordinates tearing apart comrades and friends.
Fear filled men then faced the loneliest time of year without family and loved ones…Christmas 1914 in the mud, in the wet, in the filth.
Enter Christmas Eve…into psychotic terror.
On December 24th the rich smells of German cooking wafted through British trenches with the hearty home cooked scent of sausages… blended with laughter.
The hilarity and culinary distraction seemed horribly out of place until…it happened. A beloved Christmas carol sung in German drifted like a lovely aroma through the insane scene. Allies precariously peered over their trenches to see Christmas trees with candles set upon the breastworks and to hear these words, “Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht, Alles schlaft, einsam wacht, Nur das traute hochheilige Paar, Schlaf in himmlishcer Ruh, Schlaf in himmlishcer Ruh!” Not to be outdone, the Brits began to sing Silent Night, Holy Night in English of course. In a strange competitive spirit, they sang back and forth. The hymn sing happened much of the night.
Christmas morning 1914. I personally cannot fathom what courage or idiocy it took to emerge from one’s trench work with neither weapon nor protective precaution. Historians do not know who made the first move. Perhaps burial teams met in the middle of no man’s land to care for their dead. But we do know that without weapons British Allies met German enemies in the killing fields of France as Christmas co conspirators. Hours earlier sniper fire greeted mortal enemies. Now, on Christmas morning the only ordnances deployed were fruitcakes and cookies. Cigars exchanged. Flasks opened and bottles of wine imbibed. Impromptu meals wrapped in Christmas paper swapped from enemy to ally.
Christmas comes to a world gone mad.
I love these images because I believe Christmas can still change the world. Can I share with you a vision? This holiday amidst the trench work of an economy gone mad my wife Lori and I wish to become Christmas co conspirators with you. We plan to shop local and support our coastal community. Our family commits to entertain locally. We want to thank our small local businesses for their perseverance and courage through the worst recession in my lifetime.
Finally, Christmas can also change our global community. Lori and I will send a gift to one of our favorite causes, Living Water International http://www.water.cc/ . LWI drills fresh water drinking wells in third world countries. More people die each day from poor drinking water than any other reason. Friend we can help solve this one…Christmas can touch the poor of our world and transcend the no man’s land of poverty and death.
I believe Christmas can still change the world. May I urge you out of the trenches of this troubled economy and touch our local community with kindness? And at the same time…reach a hand across this amazing globe and bring help and hope to the poor? Instead of fruitcakes we give fresh water to children…and hope.
Christmas came to bring light and love…it still is. What if the peace of Christmas can reach across the harrowing fear and despair in our hometowns? What if hope can spring for the poor of the world like a Christmas morning and its song of hope?
Oh and by the way, we cannot prove it, but numerous veterans of Christmas 1914 on the Western Front report that the Germans scrimmaged the Brits in a spontaneous soccer match in the killing fields of no man’s land. Germans 3 Brits 2.
Christmas still changes the world.
Glen