All Quiet on the Christmas Front
…in a different time and a different place.
Alfred Anderson, the last known survivor of the 1914 “Christmas Truce” that saw British and German soldiers exchanging gifts and handshakes in no-man’s land, died early Monday, his parish priest said. He was 109. His death leaves fewer than 10 veterans of World War I alive in Britain.
…Born June 25, 1896, Anderson was an 18-year-old soldier in the Black Watch regiment when British and German troops cautiously emerged from their trenches on Dec. 25, 1914. The enemies swapped cigarettes and tunic buttons, sang carols and even played soccer amid the mud and shell-holes of no man’s land.
The horror of that Great War is fading. And yes. The romance of a certain chivalry within that horrific time is dying away too.
In a place where bloodshed was nearly commonplace and mud and the enemy were fought with equal vigor, something surprising occurred on the front for Christmas in 1914. The men who lay shivering in the trenches embraced the Christmas spirit. In one of the truest acts of goodwill toward men, soldiers from both sides in the southern portion of the Ypres Salient set aside their weapons and hatred, if only temporarily, and met in No Man’s Land.
Military Thingies | Mr. Bingley | 
November 21, 2005 12:34 pm
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Wow. Rest in Peace, Alfred. You’ve certainly earned it.
Now they can do it again in heaven.
It just occured to me Alfred is 7 years younger than my grandfather.
Is he the one that looks like Paul McCartney?
It was 91 years ago today
We met the boche in the field to play…
(I would have guessed Ruben Blades…)
We’re so sorry, Uncle Alfred
We’re so sorry if we cause you any pain…
When we were young
Near Verdun
In an open trench
We used to play “shoot the Hun dead”
(you know we did you know we did you know we di-id)
But if this never-changing war in which we’re stuck in
Would just give us a try…
To Drink The Hun Dry
Well, when I met you ‘tween the trenches
You had that funny helmet on you head
You brought peppermint schnapps
so I whipped out some Johnny Walker Red
We’re gonna get hi hi hi
The night is young
Gonna drink drink drink drink drink drink drink
Till the truce is done
Tommy Brit and Fritz the Hun
Get together to have some Christmas fun
Side by side they drink till they’re plastered
Bastards
Pour me one
(Oh, excellent, Mr. Summers! I can’t say it out loud, or Bingley will pout.)
Rocky’s platoon sat shiv’ring ‘fore noon
South of the Ypres Salient
Rocky had come equipped with a gun
To shoot off the head of the Germans
The men sat and prayed on Christmas Day
Trading good cheer in the trenches
And they heard the Hun, and carols were sung
Across the No Man’s Land fences
A few men broke lines from opposite sides
Handshakes and cigarettes traded
Then others soon crossed the wintery frost
A single day’s fighting abated
The rivals drew near in holiday cheer
In friendship their games were contended
Peace in the trench, and goodwill towards men
The way the Good Lord intended…
Rocky’s platoon fell back after noon
South of the Ypres Salient
They fought the Great War four long years more
But never lost the hope of that moment
sniff
that’s gorgeous, ‘Fly!
Good one, Fly!
Thanks guys. Loved yours, too – tough acts to follow.
Dang, Diptera! That’s Kipling awesome.