In December of 1914, World War One was in its fifth month. The Allied and Central armies were entrenched. Elaborate systems of warfare were operating with the warring nations coming to terms with the fact that this "Great War" would not be over by Christmas.
On Christmas day, 1914, however, something quite remarkable happened. In Ypres, Belgium, soldiers from both the German and British armies began to fraternize. How it all happened is the subject of speculation, but soon the soldiers ventured from their trenches into the normally hazardous "no-man's land" and greeted each other with handshakes, gifts, and the singing of Christmas songs. Some reports even told of a game of soccer played between the formerly warring soldiers.
American volunteer, Edwin W. Morse, later provided an account of the goings-on in his sector:
"Xmas in the trenches was interesting but not too exciting. Beginning the eve before, "conversations" in the form of calls. "Boches," "ca va," etc. In response: "Bon camarade," "cigarettes," "nous boirons champagne a Paris," etc. Christmas morning a Russian up the line who spoke good German wished them the greetings of the season, to which the Boches responded that instead of nice wishes they would be very grateful to the French if the latter buried their compatriot who had lain before their trenches for the last two months. The Russian walked out to see if it were so, returned to the line, got a French officer and a truce was established. The burying funeral performed, a German Colonel distributed cigars and cigarettes and another German officer took a picture of the group. . . No shooting was interchanged all day, and last night absolute stillness."
The truce was not as rare nor mythic as it might have appeared (and it certainly has been mythologized in the various film and non-fiction accounts). No, what happened at Christmas in 1914 was more likely a natural occurrence during war. In fact, as Morse's account shows, many soldiers who engaged in the unofficial truce reported that they started simply because they wished to bury their dead. The truce was a means by which the soldiers were allowed—on both sides—to achieve this goal. And given the holiday, the sentiments, the homesickness, and the songs that were being sung, this prompted Christmas greetings, then quick conversations, and finally, eventual fraternization.
The story of the truce should really serve as a reminder that peace is indeed more natural than war. Throughout history, soldiers have had to be coaxed, threatened, trained, and encouraged to fight. To stop fighting, then, is the most natural thing in the world.
In his 1916 memoir, From Mons to Ypres with General French, BEF volunteer, Frederic Coleman reflected on his experience. “The most amusing conclusion to this Christmas truce,” he wrote, “in its various phases here and there along the facing lines of trenches, was the trio of severe orders promulgated from three high Headquarters. Sir John French's order was short and sharp, but very much to the point. It expressed great displeasure at such carryings-on. General Joffre issued an order not a whit less severe in condemnation of such tendencies. But fiercest of all, and threatening direst penalties, was the order issued by the Kaiser.
That all three orders were necessary might give food for thought to psychologists.”
On Christmas day, 1914, however, something quite remarkable happened. In Ypres, Belgium, soldiers from both the German and British armies began to fraternize. How it all happened is the subject of speculation, but soon the soldiers ventured from their trenches into the normally hazardous "no-man's land" and greeted each other with handshakes, gifts, and the singing of Christmas songs. Some reports even told of a game of soccer played between the formerly warring soldiers.
American volunteer, Edwin W. Morse, later provided an account of the goings-on in his sector:
"Xmas in the trenches was interesting but not too exciting. Beginning the eve before, "conversations" in the form of calls. "Boches," "ca va," etc. In response: "Bon camarade," "cigarettes," "nous boirons champagne a Paris," etc. Christmas morning a Russian up the line who spoke good German wished them the greetings of the season, to which the Boches responded that instead of nice wishes they would be very grateful to the French if the latter buried their compatriot who had lain before their trenches for the last two months. The Russian walked out to see if it were so, returned to the line, got a French officer and a truce was established. The burying funeral performed, a German Colonel distributed cigars and cigarettes and another German officer took a picture of the group. . . No shooting was interchanged all day, and last night absolute stillness."
The truce was not as rare nor mythic as it might have appeared (and it certainly has been mythologized in the various film and non-fiction accounts). No, what happened at Christmas in 1914 was more likely a natural occurrence during war. In fact, as Morse's account shows, many soldiers who engaged in the unofficial truce reported that they started simply because they wished to bury their dead. The truce was a means by which the soldiers were allowed—on both sides—to achieve this goal. And given the holiday, the sentiments, the homesickness, and the songs that were being sung, this prompted Christmas greetings, then quick conversations, and finally, eventual fraternization.
The story of the truce should really serve as a reminder that peace is indeed more natural than war. Throughout history, soldiers have had to be coaxed, threatened, trained, and encouraged to fight. To stop fighting, then, is the most natural thing in the world.
In his 1916 memoir, From Mons to Ypres with General French, BEF volunteer, Frederic Coleman reflected on his experience. “The most amusing conclusion to this Christmas truce,” he wrote, “in its various phases here and there along the facing lines of trenches, was the trio of severe orders promulgated from three high Headquarters. Sir John French's order was short and sharp, but very much to the point. It expressed great displeasure at such carryings-on. General Joffre issued an order not a whit less severe in condemnation of such tendencies. But fiercest of all, and threatening direst penalties, was the order issued by the Kaiser.
That all three orders were necessary might give food for thought to psychologists.”