Boxing Day 1914. Near Armentières, Northern France. Close to the Belgian border. The Western Front. Dear Mum and Dad,
We have been living in these waterlogged trenches for two months. There are more rats now. We lost John Morrison from down Albion Street last week. He popped his head up and caught a bullet in the neck. When people die out here it’s not calm, drifting off into a sleep. John was fighting it all the way. I sat talking to him. He’s crying, calls for his mum. Then his whole body tenses up and I can see the life leaving his eyes. 18 years old. I have seen things here that I never want to see again. It’s not like they said it would be. Not much glory.
The men are in good spirits, though. Something has happened here that I can’t quite believe. Dad, you’re going to love this. This morning, we start to hear singing coming over no-man’s-land.
It’s a Christmas carol
in German, ‘Silent Night.’ A couple of our boys start singing along, in English though. Then there are shouts of “Merry Christmas” from both sides.
We see a white sheet being waved over the top of the German trench and before you know it one of their boys has climbed up and is standing in no-man’s-land calling us over. We could have shot him easy but we don’t. Suddenly Harry Higgins turns to me and he says, “You coming, Tommo?” And he starts to climb up! Well, I don’t know what to do! I mean, we’ve been shooting at these boys for months. Then from up on top I hear “Come on, Tommo, it’s Christmas!”
Without thinking, I follow Harry towards the middle of no-man’s-land where there’s a half a dozen German boys chatting and laughing. All down the line our lads are climbing up. My heart’s pounding. I’m terrified but somehow I know it’s all right.
You know, the German boys are the same as me. They miss their home, their friends and family just like we do. Lucky they spoke good English. We talked and laughed for about twenty minutes. One of their boys brought a cake. We showed one another photographs of home.
Then Harry pulls out a camera and we take some photos, us with their helmets on and them with ours. Then one of their boys produces a football, only it’s made of straw and tied together with string. Still, it’s a football. So there we are, two armies kicking a ball around in no-man’s-land with helmets for goalposts. Do you know what, Dad? There wasn’t a single word spoken in anger the whole time we were up there.
Soon, some of the officers from both sides came over and started giving orders to break up the game; and it wouldn’t do to disobey an order, as you know.
As I write this it’s nighttime. It feels strange. There’s not much anger for the ‘enemy’ tonight, but the order to fire will come again. There are candles all along the tops of both trenches as far as you can see.
I’ll write again soon. Merry Christmas to all. I hope you’re both well and happy. Your loving son, Tom
IMPORTANT!! Don’t forget the THREE STEPS TO PEACE ONE DAY Ask your teacher about this.
Young People can take the lead. YOU can make a difference. 78 Resource P1 – “Letter Home”
Letter Home
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