09: World War 1 (1914)

To:

Mrs Hilda Pilkington

18 Twonk Avenue

4200 Manchester

United Kingdom

My dear Hilda, 

Merry Christmas. I hope you are well and have enjoyed these past days. I am delighted to say I am still alive and as well as I can be in these conditions. As you know, us lads in the West Yorkshire Regiment have been in the trenches at the frontline here in France for some time now. To be honest, I have no recollection of how many weeks or months that have passed since we arrived. We have all been in total and utter misery. Due to the constant sounds of warfare around us we have not been able to sleep, and especially after the Germans surprise attacks at nightfall we have all been afraid for our lives during the nights. As a result, we were all starting to surrender to the desperation and insanity that this war has brought upon the young British lads closest to No man's land. However, we experienced the most incredible thing yesterday. 

Some of the German and French officials did what little they could to make it feel like Christmas in their trenches with some Christmas trees and lights. We were all very skeptical as they started setting up, but solely recognized the small gesture and sat back to prepare for the night as usual. Suddenly, we heard soft and familiar tones from across No man's land. It was the Germans singing Silent Night! We peeked our heads across the top, carefully as not to be fired upon. But it was all peaceful, and some of the British lads started to chime in. Suddenly, the sweet tones of Silent Night surrounded the whole battlefield in English, German and French. But then it got even more amazing. Some of the German soldiers stood up from the trenches and waved their hands in peace. A general from each troop met in the middle of No man's land, shook hands and agreed to a truce in the spirit of Christmas. We all met and shared gifts, food, champagne, and though we often could not understand each other, we shared each others good company. It was an astonishing victory for the good of man kind in the middle of a war which seemed to have eradicated any good in us all. It seems, God has not left us. But as I write to you, the day after, we are back to the old ways and the leaders back in London have of course uttered their disapproval of the whole event. Once again, we will now work towards destruction instead of peace. Once again, we surrender to the horror of this war. The hope of returning to Manchester and the long to see your face keeps me going. 

Love, 

Karl