Christmas Day Truce

On Christmas day 1914, opposing sides stopped fighting and met for a temporary truce in no-man’s-land. In this letter taken from the Midlothian Journal of 29 January 1915, a Loanhead soldier in the Scots Guards recounts his experiences.

It may interest you to know the manner in which we spent Christmas and New Year in these parts. On Christmas Eve whilst sitting in the trenches we heard a shout from the enemy’s trenches situated about 100 yards from us, “Englishmen, Englishmen.” On answering, two Germans proposed to come half way unarmed to speak to an equal number of us, as they wished to try and arrange a truce for Christmas Day. Two of our men immediately left the trench and met them half way.

The Germans commenced negotiations by offering our envoys cigars and then shook hands. They said, “If you do not fire to-morrow, our Christmas, we not fire New Year’s Day, when you Scotsmen hold feast.” They apparently knew well that the Scots Guards held the trenches opposite to them. A temporary truce was arranged until our people came back to consult the remainder, and as everyone was in favour of spending a peaceful Christmas Day, our ministers plenipotentiary were sent back to arrange the truce (quite unofficial) for the morning. At nightfall lights were hoisted in the German trenches about every 100 yards, in the shape of Maltese crosses, and Christmas carols were sung by both sides very heartily, and I assure you there were some splendid singers amongst the Germans. One in particular sang the hymn, “Nearer my God to Thee,” in English in a voice which would not have disgraced a first class choir.

On Christmas morning it was a strange sight to see men who, the day before, had been straining their eyes for an exposed head to send a bullet through it, climbing over the parapet of the trench and meeting parties of our friends the enemy quite freely, fraternising, exchanging “souvenirs,” a magic word in France, and acting altogether “Hail fellow, well met,” with men who they honestly intended to kill next day if possible.

The truce held good for that day, and at dusk with many hearty handshakes the parties separated to their own trenches, and at daybreak John Bull’s motto, “Business as usual,” was faithfully observed. I am sorry to say our “friends” the Huns did not keep their word for New Year’s Day, as they shot two of our poor chaps who were getting water from a spring, dead. During the conversations on Christmas Day, a great many of the enemy, Bavarians, I think, who spoke good English, declared they were “fed up” and if it lasted much longer they were going to finish it themselves. They asked us why we did not give in, as they had Russia beaten and France was nothing, we were the only obstacle. With the aid of a few English newspapers we managed to disillusion them somewhat. It appears all news as to the true state of affairs is being kept from them.

Our lives here at present are not all milk and honey, the trenches as a rule are from six inches to two feet deep in mud, which is made, I think, of nine tenths glue, one tenth clay, and to see the frantic struggles of some poor Tommy loaded with a big box of biscuits to extricate himself from the sticky mess, would remind you of the efforts of a gigantic blue bottle (khaki coloured) to free himself from one of our most adhesive patent fly papers.