For a few precious hours, fighting on the Western Front came to a halt during one of the First World War’s most incredible incidents.
Instead of exchanging gunfire, soldiers traded gifts and goodwill, all in the middle of No Man’s Land – the fragile space that separated the British and German front lines. They even got into the festive spirit with impromptu football matches.
Letters to loved ones back home captured the emotion of that Christmas Day in 1914 when, briefly, the slaughter was set aside.
And the largest ever collection of those letters and photos has been gathered together in one of this year’s most moving books, Christmas Truce by the Men Who Took Part.
Author Mike Hill says: “It’s all about people to me, that’s what attracted me. It’s an extraordinary human story.”
Nearly 900,000 British soldiers died during the war, which began in July 1914. As they went into battle, they had been comforted by the assurance that it would “all be over by Christmas”.
But, bogged down in the horrific trench warfare that would define the conflict, it soon became clear that was not the case. So it is unsurprising that soldiers wrote how they had initially feared that the Christmas Day “truce” might be a trick.
Private Thomas Nash, of the East Lancashire Regiment – stationed on the Franco-Belgian border – wrote: “About 12 o’clock noon the Germans ceased firing… two or three came unarmed out of their trenches, and began to walk towards us saying that they wished to speak to us.
“Two or three of our chaps went to meet them, but an officer called them back, suspecting a trap. However, more unarmed Germans came towards us, and our chaps then went out, also unarmed, to meet them, our officers warning them to take every precaution in case of treachery.
“A few men were left behind, their rifles ready to fire if anything happened. I was amongst those who went out. There would be about 400 or 500 Germans, and about 200 of us.
“We shook hands and fraternised, exchanging Christmas greetings, cigarettes, cigars etc, several of the Germans exchanging their watches for our jackknives.”
The wonder of warring soldiers laying down their guns to shake hands for Christmas was not lost on the troops. Letters written by Capt John Stansfeld, of the 2nd Battalion, Gordon Highlanders, show he rushed to get his pocket camera when he realised the remarkable events taking place.
Of the scene at Fleurbaix in northern France, Stansfeld wrote: “We found both sides sitting in their trenches, a mutually arranged truce going on. About a mile from us, they were fighting as usual!
“Everybody was delighted at the rest and we all got a chance of looking at our trenches and spotting their weak points from the German side – of course nobody went within 30 yards of the enemy’s lines.
“I waved for one of the Germans to come across. But beyond shaking hands and laughing at one another, we could not say very much as we were both ignorant of the other’s language.”
Stansfeld told of taking photos with Germans – knowing he would be in “awful trouble if it was known, as we are not allowed to take photos”.
For those who could afford one, the Vest Pocket Kodak camera – nicknamed The Soldier’s Kodak – offered a chance to record their adventures serving King and country.
Surviving snaps show troops posing together and swapping presents from meagre rations.
Concerned that battle scenes caught on film by soldiers could provide intelligence for the enemy – or lead to negative publicity on the home front – a ban on the use of private cameras had been issued by Army chiefs shortly before Christmas 1914. But some either did not get the message or thought it worth the risk.
Author Mike said: “There were photographs of the Boer War in the late 19th century. But the difference here is the accessibility for ordinary people to have cameras. The powers-that-be quickly realised it might not be a good thing.”
As well as trading tobacco, watches and other trinkets, soldiers from both sides joined together in festive singing and dancing.
Colonel George Lawrence, commanding the East Lancashire Regiment, even proposed a New Year’s Day football fixture. He wrote home: “I said if they would have an armistice on New Year’s Day we would play them at football between our lines.
“At 3pm our doctor thought he would go and see the Germans, so boldly walked down the road to their trenches and talked to them.
“They were very full of the football idea of mine on New Year’s Day. I said if they would like another armistice then I would turn out a team and play them among the shell holes.
“Happily, there won’t be any obstacles like dead Germans lying about unless they try on another attack before then.”
But the match never took place, with a dejected Lawrence writing: “The Germans were not for it, and have been sniping all day.”
Mike said while the enduring image of organised matches along the trenches has passed down the decades, they were more likely gentle kickabouts.
But he adds that not all the accounts are correct. He added: “Photos that circulate on social media purport to be of games between English and German soldiers but they’re matches between British soldiers and taken much later.”
Animosity between the armies heightened in the spring of 1915 after the first horrific gas attacks, making later Christmas truces less widespread.
But in the century since the guns of the Western Front finally fell silent in 1918, the Christmas truce has remained a touching testament to humanity in the midst of unimaginable horror.
Mike said: “It does symbolise the spirit of Christmas. While we shouldn’t forget there were practical real-world reasons why people wanted to get out of the trenches, there was a lot of very human things that went on.
“Shaking hands, giving gifts, drinking together. It’s all the more touching given what transpired in the next four years.”
- Christmas Truce by the Men Who Took Part, by Mike Hill, £25 from Fonthill Media
