The sociopaths in gov’t wanted the bloodletting to continue so they did everything possible to destroy the Christmas Peace.
Gov’t leadership doesn’t give a hoot about soldierss lives. Washington is the same as the others. Just take a gander at the zillions of homeless veterans wandering our streets. That’s all one needs to know about Washington’s true respect for the military.
The military brass took care of this on subsequent Christmas’s to make sure it didn’t happen again. If I was a General in 1914, in quite sure I would have opposed my soldiers playing games and consorting with the enemy.
Right now I’m watching Joyeux Noel on TV.
And the war would grind on for nearly another four years.
Killing, on average, roughly 10,000 men a day.
Every day, seven days a week, 52 weeks a year.
Europe never recovered.
How moving. 103 years ago and the story still touches the soul.
Strange Meeting
BY WILFRED OWEN
It seemed that out of battle I escaped
Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped
Through granites which titanic wars had groined.
Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned,
Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred.
Then, as I probed them, one sprang up, and stared
With piteous recognition in fixed eyes,
Lifting distressful hands, as if to bless.
And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall,—
By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.
With a thousand fears that vision’s face was grained;
Yet no blood reached there from the upper ground,
And no guns thumped, or down the flues made moan.
“Strange friend,” I said, “here is no cause to mourn.”
“None,” said that other, “save the undone years,
The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours,
Was my life also; I went hunting wild
After the wildest beauty in the world,
Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair,
But mocks the steady running of the hour,
And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here.
For by my glee might many men have laughed,
And of my weeping something had been left,
Which must die now. I mean the truth untold,
The pity of war, the pity war distilled.
Now men will go content with what we spoiled.
Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled.
They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress.
None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress.
Courage was mine, and I had mystery;
Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery:
To miss the march of this retreating world
Into vain citadels that are not walled.
Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels,
I would go up and wash them from sweet wells,
Even with truths that lie too deep for taint.
I would have poured my spirit without stint
But not through wounds; not on the cess of war.
Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were.
“I am the enemy you killed, my friend.
I knew you in this dark: for so you frowned
Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.
I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.
Let us sleep now. . . .”
This is mostly a myth:
That said, while some fraternization did occur between British and German troops on December 25, 1914, evidence for it is highly anecdotal. Moreover, the French were in no mood to drink and be merry with the Germans, who were occupying a good chunk of French soil, not to mention that in the five months leading up to Christmas, 300,000 French soldiers died trying to keep even more of their country from falling into German hands. Fraternization incidents between French and Germans were very much the exception that first war Christmas.
Despite this, European footballers have commemorated the Christmas Truce in their own way, while the British and German military have even held a centenary football match to celebrate the much-mythologized event. The Christmas Truce has always been a particularly British affectation, the football match being an indication of the fair-play and good-sporting values of the British generation that waged — and, as few seem to remember, won — the Great War. In a similar fashion, the 36th (Ulster) Division went “over the top” on the first day of the great Somme offensive, July 1, 1916, led by a football kicked out by a lead battalion, only to be mowed down, counting among the 57,000 British troops who fell dead or wounded that terrible day.
The Christmas Truce idea is beloved by many, beyond football fans, for its hint that, beneath the horror, British and Germans were just ordinary men cast into the maelstrom of unprecedented bloodshed. From there it’s easy to reach notions that, but for nasty generals, all might have ended with “average men” coming together to end the madness. In the background, a very furry John and Yoko are encouraging “Hair Peace, Bed Peace.” The appeal of this, a hundred years on, when Britain and Germany are together in the European Union, is humane and understandable. However, we must not get carried away by the power of pleasant myth-making.
https://20committee.com/2014/12/24/the-1914-christmas-truce/
p
Thank you markomalley for this story of brotherhood that overcame the hatred war imposes on young men. A beautifully written letter to home in the prose of early 20th century.