1914 Chapter 16

16. Christmas in the trenches.

Dieter Luther, Gefreiter/Sergeant

The news reached us at the trenches.

“Germany held another front; Eastern Front with the Austrians engaging the Russians.” It was told to us by Dietrich who had seen the report in the Oberst tent.

“Its pure madness to engage the war on both fronts. Here we now seated in the dugouts. What will be on the Eastern Front? Plodding through the snow towards Moscow. I thought the High Command should have read the war by Napoleon then. It’s a massacre to go there.”

“Kaiser, please explain.” One of the veterans called out.

“We invaded Belgium and almost took them off until the French and the British intervened. We committed our armies towards the sea campaign and now we ended with a boundary of over three hundred miles. What did our Empire do next? They declared war on Serbia with the alliance of the Austrians.”

“My mother was Austrian.” Another veteran called out.

“Well, her son is fucked to fight here.” Another replied. They all laughed and then Kaiser continued.

“The Russians opposed the invasion of Serbia.”

“Who are they? I meant the Serbians.”

“Hey, farm boy. Stay silent. Let Kaiser speaks.” Someone called up.

“He is not Kaiser.” The farm boy voiced out and thrown at with mud balls.

“Well, the Russians feared the Austrians will command the Balkans and objected. We instead declared war on the Russians a few months back.” Kaiser concluded the talk. I knew he had relatives in Serbia then.

“Enough of the talks. We got a war here.” I cut in. Then I decided to change the subject matter.

“Did we exchange out wines with the British?” There was a lull then in the battle and as it was near Christmas, one evening a soldier started singing the carols. To our surprise, the British replied with their version. Soon, we were all singing along till dawn. It became a daily ritual and hostilities ended as we remember Christmas.

“Sergeant, I have some cake. We can share it.” The recruit handed the cake out. I smiled for there we were in the dugout trenches, with our bottom of it lined of it with planks of wood. Or branches for it the ground below was wet and muddy. We needed the planks to walk over or we will have our boots sunk into the mud. The men have dug deep to above our heads and then piled the top with sandbags. For us to reach the top, we have improvised ladders made of wood and at some distance, we parted the sandbags to create the observation top.

“Hey, Sergeant. Can we call the Tommy (British) over?”

“Well, if you want to be served with a bullet or a bayonet up your butt?” I replied.

“That’s crude, Sergeant. We are near Christmas now. I am sure we can be civil in our manners.” The recruit replied. “I would.”

I nodded for I had heard rumors that both sides have seen some civility with the exchange of gifts recently. That was it took then for the men to call their counterpart to share the festivities. We ended up the exchange of gifts. I was guilty too for I exchanged some wine for the British rations. We were fed up with our own.

I approached the Hauptmann who then was unsure of the action.

“Peter”, I used his first name to address him. “We used to be neighbors. Can’t hold a truce for a day? Christmas is once a year.”

That was two days before Christmas.

Peter Weiner, Hauptmann

"I can’t authorize it,” I told Dieter. “We are at war.”

“In the previous wars, we have the truce to remove the wounded. Why can’t we do to celebrate a day on it?” Dieter argued back. I was to reply when I heard a runner barging down the trench. He was shouting that the British were calling for a football match.

“British against us? We will wipe them into the mud.” One of the men called out across the top. We laughed and then a boot was thrown over to our trench. It was a long throw and we were amazed by it.

“Hey, BEF. Take this for return.” One of the men tossed over his boot. “If you got balls, meet me on the field.”

A ball was kicked over and landed past our trench and was picked up by the men. It was a brown leather ball and pumped up with air.

“Hey, it’s football. Ours have gone flat.” The guy who collected it remarked on the ball. We do have our own, but the ball landed on some nails and got soft.

“Hey, you got a referee there?” I took in the antics and called out. I was an amateur footballer and had acted as a referee in some matches. More to it, I held a whistle with me.

“We do but he is French. We don’t really trust him.” That remark came with a length of laughter. We joined in and then more callous remarks went out until the messenger from the BEF walked to the midway with the white flag. He called for a friendly and we agreed.

That took men half an hour to agree on the players and there was the land clearance on the fighting field. We worked with others without any thoughts of hostility. I helped to push the wheelbarrow removing the debris.

“I am Steven. I am from Dover.” The British soldier helped me to push the barrow.

“Peter. I am from Munich.” I found the words came out as if I was meeting the other person casually on the street in London or at Munich.

“How do you do?” I extended my right hand. He took it and then we share jokes on the different nationalities. We did take turns to laugh at the French and the Italians.

“I guess the Italians are still waiting for their turn to fight.” That statement by me took the other by surprise and then he turned it to a matter of amusement.

“Yeah, probably true. They needed to get their acts together.” Steven's reply was dry but we laughed. It was from there to the football match and our hostilities became rivalry at the match. We played hard and changed the players when needed. We had to at times booed our own players off the field. It was not any match with the time limit but the fun was to play.

Erich Kroner, Oberst

I heard about the so-called truce and was agitated that a football match was going on. I grabbed my hat and was to reprimand them when I saw my aide came bearing than with a crate of wine.

“Oberst, the BEF send over with compliments.” The aide placed the crate over my maps. “Shall we return with some of ours?”

“Place that on the floor. The table held the maps and notes I needed.” I told the aide and then proceeded to the front line. When I was near it. I saw the indiscipline among the men. They were not in their posts and even discarded their rifles. Some were in the state of rejoice and one even wore the BEF helmet. I approached the men and was to reprimand them when I saw the football match over the top. I saw both sides were there and they were cheering their own mates. I reached for my Luger and was stopped by the Hauptmann.

“Oberst, we are on a truce for today. I don’t think you want to be responsible for an outbreak of hostilities.” I was cautioned by the Hauptmann. “The men have been battling for months and this is the first break we have.”

“Hauptmann. We are at war. How could… we fraternize with them?” I questioned the officer.

“Likewise, Oberst. I am sure their officers are having the same thoughts but the lower ranks are frustrated by the war. Most of them are not recruits like yourself and me. They are volunteers and for them, at this moment they celebrate the day with festivities. We cannot allow them to leave to return to their families. I have brought the the feeling of home to them.”

I was not to argue with the officer. I was feeling homesick and with the constant feeling of being dejected there. For a quarter of the year, I have come with expectations to achieve something but all I had experienced was dejection. I was dejected with the High Command strategy. It sounded so worthwhile when we were briefed on it. Then the implementation even with the huge army with us, we were still not making much ground.

And we started the Eastern Front then.

“Oberst, let the men have their day.” I heard the Hauptmann. I was to retort and then decided to retreat from the Front Line.

The next surprise I had was the call from the High Command.

“Who allowed them the fraternity?” All the senior officers on line along the Front Line were grilled by the High Command. “This must not be allowed. We will resume hostilities at dawn.”

I picked up the crate of wine and was to toss it when I realized it was Christmas day. The caroling was overwhelming. I took out a bottle and drank it down. That night. I had half the crate and was dead sleeping till the next day.

Abel Langer

It was Christmas but I was alone. Stella was gone. She left me the day without turning up for her duty as the nurse. I asked the staff from the orderlies to the nurses but they had no news of her. It was as if she up and left without telling anyone. I wanted to check on her but the duty called. There were some surgeons away from their posts. It was due to the so-named Christmas festivities. We did not have any war wounds but we had some other patients.

“Doctor, he stepped onto the plank and it went up. We did not know the nail was there.” The soldier was impacted on the left eye and he was going blind. I did my best but the damage was done. I did the whole procedure and later send the soldier off to the recovery area. He was stunned by the incident and have not spoken a word.

“Son, you are not entirely blind. You still have one eye. I had seen worse. They leave here without their arms and legs.” I did not why I made the comment then. It hurt the soldier who then turned away. I stepped away and was confronted by the nurse there.

“You are mean, Doctor. The young man lost his left eye, and you told him not to worry. He can’t do much with one eye. Neither will those who lost their limbs. Do you know what’s it like to be maimed?”

“Nurse, I am a surgeon. I see that every other day. I am used to that.” It was a harsh remark.

“Maybe you should lose Stella and make you feel better without her?” I was stunned by her remarks. I was very much attached to Stella then. I glared at the nurse and retorted towards her.

“My relationship with Stella has nothing to do with you.”

“And it doesn’t but she is a sister to all of us.”

“What did you know of Stella?”

“She left. She made the request to the Command and they had her transferred back.”

“Why would she do that? I love her. She could have told me.”

“We do not know. Maybe she had it with you. Removing you from her life was like removing a dead limb.” That was a harsh remark made to me then. I wanted to strike the nurse then. I held back my anger. The war was not to my expectations. I was to save lives and ended up miserable.

“Merry Christmas, Doctor.” I heard the nurse spoke to me. “Open your own present by yourself.”

I looked at the nurse leaving me there. She was right. A part of me has become so isolated. I was performing my task then without a thought to the works I was doing. It was all mechanical. I may have lost the human compassion.

Like I lost Stella then.

“Fuck.”