There has been a bit in the news lately about what happened on the Western Front 100 years ago. That one front alone would eventually cost 12.5 million casualties, but The Great War was only a few months old in December of 1914, and, at least from the soldiers point of view, it wasn’t clear that the carnage needed to continue. That Christmas along the front, the shooting stopped in many places. Lit Christmas trees began to appear in the German tranches. Soldiers on both side began to sing carols. They listened to the music from the other side of no-man’s-land then sang in response. In some places they started to leave their trenches and walk toward the opposite lines—with some hesitation at first, then in larger and larger numbers. It is hard to imagine the level of trust required to get up out of the trenches and walk unarmed toward the machine guns. They shook hands, exchanged gifts and perhaps even played soccer (according to a recent lecture that was podcast by the UK National Archives, there is no evidence for actual games, but found it likely that German and English troops managed to kick a ball around at various places along the lines.)
After hearing the truce discussed in the media, I was reminded of how personal the past can be when my wife asked me to edit a blog post she was writing. I had forgotten that her grandfather was a witness to the Christmas Truce. One of those Christmas trees along the Western Front was his. You should read her post Christmas 1914. The past truly is filled with personal connections.