Christmas in the Trenches

Well tonight is it, Christmas Eve. This Advent journey has been special this year because of this daily discipline. I hope that for those of you who followed along that you've found moments of insight and edification along the way. More than that, I hope that all of you have had your own Advent discipline and find yourself ready for the celebration at hand.

Christmas is a potent holiday. It has the power to make us all act like the people we always wanted to be, at least for one day (or perhaps a season). It helps us to believe in the greater truths that we hope would control the world, but sadly never seem to do. Christmas is the birthday of the Prince of Peace, and so we are particularly mindful of the powerful draw of the promise of peace on this holy day. So for my last Advent blog entry I want to lift up the power of peace.

On November 21 of this year, Alfred Anderson died in his sleep, he was 109 years old. At the time he was the oldest man in Scotland. He was also believed to be the last Scottish veteran of World War I and the last survivor of a most remarkable event that happened in 1914 on Christmas Eve. In a number of locations along the Western Front, Allied and German soldiers declared their own unofficial Christmas truce. At least one officer was later court martialed over the incident. It was when soldiers on both sides of the conflict realized that they were all celebrating the same holiday that they rejected the notion that they were so different, disobeyed orders, and met together in "no man's land." Yes, Christmas is that powerful!

Tonight I will share a song at the Christmas Pageant written by John McCutcheon called Christmas in the Trenches that memorializes that event. Here are the lyrics:


Christmas in the Trenches
words & music by John McCutcheon

Inspired by a back-stage conversation with an old woman in Birmingham, AL, this song tells a story that is not only true, but well-known throughout Europe. For some of the history behind the 1914 WWI Christmas Truce, click here.

My name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool,
Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school.
To Belgium and to Flanders to Germany to here
I fought for King and country I love dear.
'Twas Christmas in the trenches where the frost so bitter hung,
The frozen fields of France were still, no Christmas song was sung,
Our families back in England were toasting us that day,
Their brave and glorious lads so far away.

I was lying with my messmate on the cold and rocky ground
When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound
Says I, "Now listen up, me boys!" each soldier strained to hear
As one young German voice sang out so clear.
"He's singing bloody well, you know!" my partner says to me
Soon one by one each German voice joined in in harmony
The cannons rested silent, the gas clouds rolled no more
As Christmas brought us respite from the war.

As soon as they were finished and a reverent pause was spent
"God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" struck up some lads from Kent
The next they sang was "Stille Nacht," "Tis 'Silent Night'," says I
And in two tongues one song filled up that sky.
"There's someone coming towards us!" the front line sentry cried
All sights were fixed on one lone figure coming from their side
His truce flag, like a Christmas star, shone on that plain so bright
As he bravely strode unarmed into the night.

Soon one by one on either side walked into No Man's land
With neither gun nor bayonet we met there hand to hand
We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well
And in a flare-lit soccer game we gave 'em hell.
We traded chocolates, cigarettes, and photographs from home
These sons and fathers far away from families of their own
Young Sanders played his squeeze box and they had a violin
This curious and unlikely band of men.

Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more
With sad farewells we each began to settle back to war
But the question haunted every heart that lived that wondrous night
"Whose family have I fixed within my sights?"
'Twas Christmas in the trenches, where the frost so bitter hung
The frozen fields of France were warmed as songs of peace were sung
For the walls they'd kept between us to exact the work of war
Had been crumbled and were gone for evermore.

My name is Francis Tolliver, in Liverpool I dwell
Each Christmas come since World War I I've learned its lessons well
That the ones who call the shots won't be among the dead and lame
And on each end of the rifle we're the same.

©1984 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP)

I pray that you will know the gift of true peace this Christmas; peace that is not just the absence of conflict, but a peace that breaks down barriers and realizes that in the end we are all the same.

Blessings on you and the ones you love, and most especially those whom nobody loves this holy day!