1914 Christmas in the Trenches (via ZeroHedge)
By John McCutcheon
Oh my name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool
Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school
From Belgium and to Flanders, Germany to here
I fought for King and country I love dearTwas Christmas in the trenches and the frost so bitter hung
The frozen fields of France where still no Christmas songs were sung
Our families back in England were toasting us that day
Theie brave and glorious lads so far awayI was lying with my mess-mates 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 clearHe’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 and the gas clouds rolled no more
As Christmas brought us respite from the warAs soon as they were finished and a reverent pause was spent
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen struck up some lads from Kent
The next thing sang was Stille Nacht, tis ‘Silent Night’ says I
And in two tongues one song filled up that skyThere’s someone coming towards us now the front line sentry said
All sights were fixed on one lone figure trudging from their side
His truce flag like a Christmas Star shone on the plane so bright
As he bravely trudged unarmed into the nightThen one by one on either side, walked in to 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 football game we gave them hellWe traded chocolates, cigarettes and photographs from home
These sons and fathers far away from families of their own
Young Sanders played the squeeze box and they had a violin
This curious and unlikely band of menSoon 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 sightsTwas Christmas in the trenches and the frost so bitter hung
The frozen fields of France were warmed, the 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 forever moreOh my name is Francis Tolliver, from Liverpool I dwell
Each Christmas comes since World War I have learned its lesson well
For 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
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