ONE NIGHT IN FUNDERS

Evening Star, Issue 20422, 1 March 1930, Page 12

ONE NIGHT IN FUNDERS

A REMINISCENCE AND REFLECTIONS XMAS EPISODE • Those early trenches were extremely crude—simply ditches. Sandbags were few and far between. Corrugated iron had not been introduced. _ Rain had transformed these trenches into watery slots. “Dugouts” were muddy alcoves interjected at random into either wall of the trench. Muddy rifles lay in crevices. The gaps between the rifles were filled with rusting cans, which had brought us food. Here and there were slots running hack from the trench which served as toilet stations and lefuse pits. Behind our unpleasant habitation sundry small wooden mosses stuck out of the ground, recording the passing of those who could not have been buried farther away because of the dangers and pressure of the moment, .' • * Try to visualise this scene, over which rifle shots “ crack ” intermittently; then try to realise that this is where you must live, and that there can bo no escape except qn a .stretcher. 11 you can do this you will have a picture of the,spot in which the»first Christmas of the war found us. ■ What a Christmas! Lurking m a filthy slot, that wound its way across an ex-turnip field! Yet when!the post arrived on Christmas Eve, bringing several small packages of food and cigarettes from those back at home, the effervescent nature of the British soldier showed itself and we all cheered up a bit. By about midnight songs were breaking out here and there. How painfully ridiculous it seemed. Nation facing nation from two long, winding slots in the ground; This, after all the mental evolution of man through the ages, was flie method used to settle a dispute! How strange is the dual nature of civilisation winch cares even for hopeless cripples at enormous expense in peace, _ and throws its strongest and best into a mechanical hell in war. So I thought as I sat idly scraping the mud off my boots. Suddenly a sentry on my right turned down the trench and shouted excitedly; “Shut up,_ you fellers! Listen! The music stopped dead. What s the matter?” I asked. . “The Germans is singin’, air. Listen, and you’ll ’ear ’em.” Sure enough. We all distinctly heard the distant sound of a concertina, coupled with voices and occasional laughter. Our men seemed pleased to think that the Germans could sing, and play music, too. There was much laughter, and interest at .this phenomenon. We all went instinctively to the point where our trench approached the German line most' nearly and listened again. The German singing and playing continued, amidst much jocular comment from our men. Suddenly one of the crowd scrambled up the parapet and shouted out “ Come over ’ere.” There was a laugh amongst us at the absurdity of the notion. Someone else repeated the invitation louder. There was an understandable reply,from the German Denches, which brought forth still further merriment on our side or the field. Even this terrible war had been unable to check the spirit of Christmas that seemed to be abroad. Here, on Christmas Eve, something had snapped 1 An excited soldier ran to rue.

“ They’ve met, sir! One of our men and a German! Out there in the open!” . 1 hastened back with bun to that part of tli© trench, and found that this had not only really happened, but that one or two more from both sides were on their way to do the same thing. The situation from a military point of view was absurd. What shoujd be done about it? \Ve were soldiers who had fought, and had got to continue fighting. To stop suddenly and be friendly seemed a preposterous thing. But there was a greater force than armies at. the front that night. As the dawn came I was able to see the situation. _ Our soldiers were everywhere in disorder., , were standing on the parapet, a posi-' tion which at a normal time would have spelt sudden death. Others were straggling out into No Man’s Land. Looking .towards the German lines I saw precisely the same scene 1 The soldiers of both armies were approaching one another across No Man’s Land with smiling curiosity. There was a ( mutual trust about the whole thing, although ' naturally accompanied by a curious shyness at first, which rapidly wore off. There was no trace of hatred or antagonism. One felt the establishment of that friendliness which forms itself between companions in misfortune. 1 met a young German officer, and exchanged buttons as souvenirs. With my wire-cutting pliers 1 removed _ a button from his tunic, and gave him one of mine in exchange. Later, 1 was photographed by a German with several others, in a group Composed of both sides. - Not far from us lay some dead, now approachable for the first time. The scene was so strange that in a simple foolish way I felt the war could not endure in face of it all. _ This fraternisation was now taking place on a front of half a.mile. .Strolling about iu No Man’s Land,' 1 observed the extent of the thing. No Man’s Land! where only a few days ago it would have been impossible to move without disaster, but where now soldiers were exchanging food, souvenirs, and cigarettes. . What would have happened if this curious situation had spread in both directions, until such a scene was being enacted along the entire length of the front? With hate, and all the propaganda that is used to inflame soldiers, gone from the war, it would be hard to get the thing started again. If someone could have shouted loitd enough to have been heard all along the front —then what? What could the directing few do if a herd numbering a million refused to start again? And what is the right point of view to have if such a condition arose? Should Peace and Goodwill—Christianity—be lostered, leading to amicable settlement of the dispute, or should armed force prevail? But if someone powerful enough had arisen in No Man’s Land on that morning and advocated a “ stop-fight-ing ” policy, he would have been court-martialled and executed. About noon, as the general laxity and friendliness were growing, a football match was suggested. Someone had evidently received a deflated football as a Christmas present. Playing football with tbo enemy doesn’t sound right, somehow. However, this project was interrupted. I was suddenly sent for by the captain of the company, and something within mo told mo that all was not well. I arrived at his dugout and heard that there was displeasure in tbo mind of the colonel at the pioceedings. The news bad reached the general, and sharp orders had arrived to terminate any fraternisation immediately. What else can a general do. Chatting with the enemy takes no place in bis profession. So, with much trouble, the officers iu the Iront line began herding the soldiers back. Iho

Gomans were made to understand that the friendly meeting wan over. The orders to return to the trenches were reluctantly obeyed. , . Christmas Night saw both sides back in their lines, and on our left a tew still-mingling soldiers, who had not crasped the serious nature of the orders, were shot down by opposing war had started again. IMes spat forth death across the shellscarred turnip field, banishing the Spirit of Christmas that had flitted in a strange wav across No Man’s Land, and for a few hours had triumphed.— Captain Bruce Bairnsfather, m the December ‘ American Magazine.