Christmas is a magical time of year for me. I come from a fairly German family (my mother hails from a small town near Ludwigsburg in the German state of Baden-Württemberg) and there is no time of year that I feel more “German” than around Christmas. While we celebrate like most Americans (my father, like myself, comes from the great state of Texas), there are certain traditions we keep that are particularly German – small presents or treats on Sankt Nikolaus Tag; a visit from Knecht Ruprecht or Krampus to scare naughty children straight (if you are not familiar with Krampus, google it. It’s terrifying!); opening the Adventskalender every morning, though it seems more Americans are doing this now; Schwäbisch dishes for Christmas dinner; etc. My father’s family, on the other hand, is predominately Scottish/English, with a touch of German thrown in. You are probably starting to wonder where I’m going with all of this. Bear with me, I’m getting to it.
I have always had a fascination with the First World War, though for one reason or another, I retain very little information I read about it. There is a story from the war, however, and I must preface this by saying that I am not a particularly sappy person (unless it pertains to my children), but there is a story that has always moved me, even when I was a child. Not surprisingly, it involves the Germans, the British, and Christmas. It’s the story of the Christmas Truce of 1914, or as we say in German, Der Weihnachtsfrieden. What is so special about this, you may be asking yourself? Well, for me, it was always representative of a time when my two peoples stopped slaughtering each other and showed some peace and humanity in the midst of a brutal war and this year marks the 100th anniversary of this remarkable event.
Informal truces were nothing new and had been occurring since early November, much to the chagrin of officers and one Austrian corporal named Adolf Hitler, who is alleged to have said, “Such things should not happen in wartime. Have you Germans no sense of honor left at all?” The trenches along the front were so close in places –sometimes as close at thirty yards — that men could yell out to one another. Many German soldiers had lived in England and spoke the language so it only seemed natural that in quieter parts of the front the two sides would start to communicate. Occasionally, “friendly” meetings took place to exchange newspapers, cigarettes, and other goodies. But on Christmas Eve 1914, in the trenches around Ypres, Belgium, and elsewhere along the front, the guns again fell silent and something more meaningful happened.
On Christmas Eve, German troops began to decorate their trenches with candles, placing some in little fir trees, initially confusing the Brits who could see the lights. And then, upon the cold night air, came the haunting sound of singing. The Germans were singing Christmas carols; the British responded in kind with their own songs. While the singing of the popular German hymn, Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht (Silent Night), by both sides in tandem is so often associated with the truce today, this does not seem to be the case. According to the letters of some British soldiers, they had never heard it before that time and it was not until after the war that it became popular in England. The hymn both sides sang together most often appears to be O Come All Ye Faithful – the English in their native tongue, the Germans in Latin. Slowly, men began to emerge from the trenches, crossed no man’s land, and began to fraternize with the enemy, exchanging gifts, taking photographs, and even giving haircuts.
In a letter to his friend back in Scotland, a Private Cunningham of the 5th Scottish Rifles described the incredible scene: “On Christmas Eve the firing practically ceased. I think both sides understood we were going to have a day off. Through the night we sang carols to one another, the German lines were only a hundred yards away, so we heard each other quite plainly. This went on all night. When dawn arrived we started putting our head above the parapet and waved to each other. On our left was a brewery occupied by the Germans and to our surprise we saw a German come out and hold his hand up, behind him were two rolling a barrel of beer. They came halfway across and signed to us to come for it. Three of us went out, shook hands with them, wished them a merry Christmas, and rolled the barrel to our own trenches amid the cheers of both British and Germans! After that it was understood that peace was declared for a day. We both got out of our trenches and met in the middle of the field, wished each other seasons greetings. The Germans said: ‘A merry Grismas!’ Some of them were quite good at English. We had a most interesting day.”
One of the most heavily disputed features of the entire event is whether or not football matches were held between the two sides. Some British letters allude to soccer games being played, but evidence is scant. I rather enjoy the idea.
It must be mentioned that, no matter how remarkable the story, the truce was by no means universal or typical. Many men lost their lives that day. With some, a cessation in fighting was just wishful thinking and they were gunned down as they warily climbed out of their trenches. Some mistakenly believed the truce was official as they exited their holes. In places it only lasted until early afternoon, in others it lasted for a few days, and in some cases, up until New Year’s Day. But, inevitably, the killing started again and would go on for nearly four more years.
Historian Andrew Hamilton summed it up best when he said, “It is an iconic event, with humanity overcoming man’s innate evil – just for a short time.” So, in the spirit of the holidays, whatever your faith (or lack thereof) and with the knowledge that these brave men put down their guns in an effort to promote “peace on earth, goodwill to men,” show a little love and kindness toward your fellow man. From my family to yours, Frohe Weihnachten.