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
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’ to him. He’
s not calm, drifting off into a sleep. John was fighting it all the way . s not like they said it would be. s-land. It’
. We lost John . I sat talking
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’ 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 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
don’t. Suddenly Harry Higgins turns to me and he says, “Y , “Come on, T
ommo, it’ s Christmas!” ou coming, T
Without thinking, I follow Harry towards the middle of no-man’ s all right.
Y ou know
. We could have shot him easy but we ommo?” 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
s-land where there’
boys chatting and laughing. All down the line our lads are climbing up. My heart’ somehow I know it’
s a half a dozen German s pounding. I’m terrified but
, 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 soccer ball, only it’
soccer ball. So there we are, two armies kicking a ball around in no-man’ , as you know .
s made of straw and tied together with string. Still, it’ 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 I write this it’
Y T
s nighttime. It feels strange. There’
our loving son, om
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
. s a
110
Resource T1 – “Letter Home”
Letter Home
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