Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Men: The Christmas of 1914
It was a cool December evening as Sergeant Thomas Coals climbed out of the main trench and onto the parapet to relieve the previous sentry. He’d have the latest shift, and be out until about 4 in the morning before his shift ended. He glanced out across the grim landscape that was no-man’s land, and across to the German lines beyond. He reached the pervious sentry, Sergeant Lewis McGregor, and relieved him of his post. “Have the Huns been silent?”
“Yes, for the most part, just a little movement, nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe tonight will be totally quiet.”
“Well, I hope so. I don’t like it when my sentry duty isn’t quiet.” Coals said with a grin.
“Ha, no I don’t like it either mate.” McGregor said as he walked down into the trench. “Oh, by the way, Merry Christmas if I don’t see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks Lewis. Merry Christmas to you too.”
It was sometimes hard to remember that the joyous holiday was now upon them, what with all the gloom of war totally surrounding the soldiers of the British Expeditionary Force. So much violence, so much death. Just a month before, the Battle of Ypres, which had raged for nearly 6 long weeks, had finally ended, with over 79,000 good men dead and another 16,000 wounded. This on top of the massive losses at the Marne. In all the BEF had lost over 100,000 men since the war broke out 4 months ago. All hope of a short and glorious war against the German Empire had long since been dashed. The war would now definitely continue into 1915, possibly 1916 if Fortune decided to be stingy. Coals himself just hoped he could make it through this bloody conflict and back to his young wife Sophie, who was expecting their first child.
As Coals looked out across the wasteland that existed between the British and German lines, he began to imagine what his own family would be doing. They’d be all gathered at his childhood home north of London, father in the parlor with his brothers and sisters trimming the tree, his mother and his wife baking some snacks in the kitchen. In a few hours they’d get into the carriage and ride to the near by St. Gregory’s church for the midnight Christmas service. Tomorrow they’d awake to prepare for the big holiday feast with his aunts and uncles and grandparents, and exchange gifts afterwards. How he wished he could be with them tonight. But he was proud to serve his country. Or at least, he had been when he and so many other young men had volunteered to join the army at the outbreak of war. Now though, after living through the horror of Ypres, where the Germans had briefly taken the town before being driven out by the British, and having heard of the horrors of the Marne, he wasn’t so sure. Why were he and his fellow compatriots out here dying on the fields of France?
While the sergeant began to drift in his thoughts, a light of in the distance caught his eye. He immediately glanced about, and notices several brightly lit candles dotting the German trenches. Where the Huns up to something? Fearing that the enemy might be preparing for some sort of sneak attack, Coals hollered out for his superior. “Lieutenant Scott! Lieutenant Scott!” Shouted Coals down into the trenches. Soon, Lieutenant Horatio Scott came up the ladder, calling out, “What is is Sergeant Coals? Are the Germans moving?”
“I don’t rightly know sir. They are lighting lanterns and moving about more than they have the past few nights.” Scott joined Coals on the parapet, and gazed over towards the German trenches. Sure enough, dozens of Candles were dotting this part of the line, in plain view of the British forces. This was most unusual.
“Do you hear that?” asked Scott. Coals listened hard, and sure enough, he did hear something drifting over from the enemy.
“Sounds like they are shouting something in unison sir. But I can’t make out....” the noise was louder now, and Coals could make it out:
”Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht; Alles schlaft, einsam wacht....”
Scott chuckled a bit. “Well, what do you know. The Huns are singing Christmas carols. Maybe the Christmas spirit will make it out to the trenches this year.” Lieutenant Scott smiled, then excused himself. Coals continued his watch, listening first to the Germans sing, and then to his own fellow soldiers in the British trenches. Lt. Scott appeared to be right. The Christmas spirit had made it out to the trenches. Little did Coals, Scott, or any of the British or German soldiers realize that night as the sang carols and shouted “merry Christmas” back and forth, that the next 48 to 72 hours would change the course of the War, and with it, the course of modern history.
