Chapter 21 #2
Ashley snorted thinking how strange it was that in churches around the world they would light candles and line the pews singing of peace on earth while here she was forbidden the very notion.
The lieutenant glared at her, and a flash of insubordination flared up in her Bob Cratchit heart.
“Is this really how the Lord would choose to spend his birthday?”
“Tread lightly, Private.”
“Of course, sir. I’m no theologian, I only wondered.”
But further down the line, she could see Captain Davies, a half smirk playing across his lips. Whether he agreed or merely enjoyed seeing Lieutenant Hawkins ruffled, Ash was glad to know the Old Man was on her side. It made it easier to hold her tongue somehow.
The mortars kept firing, even as the sun went down. Tom and Ash rested against the trench wall to watch them explode, red and gold beneath a smoky sky. It all might be pretty under different circumstances.
“I suppose the lieutenant’s right, in a way. Christmas doesn’t really belong here with the mud and the muck and the merciless.”
“Careful, Ash,” Tom told her. “You’re starting to sound like some kind of poet.”
From his nearby post with Merle, Rook glanced her way and winked. She didn’t feel the cold much after that.
Finally, as the hour ticked towards midnight, the barrage began to slow and with it, Rook’s constant rat-a-tat-tatting counterfire.
“Artillery or no, our orders are to fire,” Lieutenant Hawkins shouted.
“Rook?” Captain Davies asked.
“Sir?”
“Why’ve you stopped shooting?”
“Ammunition’s low, Cap.”
“Oh, I see. Best save it then. In case we need it later,” the captain replied.
“Aye, sir,” Rook said, nudging a full box of cartridges out of sight with his toe, while the lieutenant scowled and stormed away.
“Keep an eye on that one, Cap,” Sergeant Major Chapman murmured, watching Hawkins disappear on down the trench. “Sure as eggs, he’s after your bloody job.”
They shared a look and continued on their way, Captain Davies pausing to pat first Rook and then Merle on the shoulder as he passed.
With no one shooting, the world fell completely silent.
Then somewhere along the line, a man began to sing in hushed, lilting Gaelic, and Ash thought she’d never heard a lovelier hymn. Tears sprang to her eyes, and chills raced down her arms as she was reminded of a gentler place and time.
He switched to English for the second verse, and more soldiers followed suit. Even Rook set down his rifle and raised his tenor voice to the sky as a Scottish regiment picked up the tune on pipes. Galvanized by the sniper, Tom glanced from Ash to Rook before joining in the chorus too.
The moment was haunting and sacred.
When it ended, in the flicker of a cigarette, Ash could just make out Rook’s stubbled cheek, now damp with tears. And for some reason, his tears were her undoing. He was the toughest man she knew, but here and now he was one more lonely choirboy far from home.
Soon after, another voice rang out, soft and far away. “Still, still, still, weil’s Kindlein schlafen will.”
It was a German soldier singing to them across No Man’s Land, a carol for a carol. And he wasn’t alone, for his comrades lifted their voices in harmony as well.
Ash looked around at all her friends and fellows, surprised to remember the enemy could worship the same God, to remember they too longed for home and family tonight.
Though she assumed every voice was male, she could hear Frau Wintter’s steady contralto, and she couldn’t help forming the words with her own lips.
As if by magic or some sign from above, when they sang the words, “Gott hat den Himmelsthron verlassen, und mu? reisen auf der stra?en,” God has left the throne of heaven and must walk upon the road, the clouds and smoke gave way to moonlight, shining bright as the star of Bethlehem, lighting up the whole of No Man’s Land as though lighting the way for God Himself to walk between the trenches.
“Cap?” Rook whispered, his posture stiffening as he peeked through the loophole, and Captain Davies came over for a look, followed closely by the lieutenant, who shooed Rook out of the way.
Tom and Ash risked a peek over the bags to see several German soldiers clamber out of their own trench still singing. Apparently unarmed, some carried candles, and others, bottles of liquor.
“Likely a trap,” Hawkins scoffed. “They are known to be ruthless.”
“Perhaps,” Captain Davies replied. “But I’m not sure even Germans would waste good drink. Not at Christmas,” he added, slapping the lieutenant on the back. “Hold your fire, Rook.”
Rook nodded and stepped back so the captain could climb over the parapet while everyone watched closely with bated breath.
“No man is to leave this trench, not one of you,” the lieutenant hissed.
Ash and Tom stood tiptoe on the fire step, knowing full well the Germans could shoot them between the eyes if they’d a mind to, but watching all the same as both commanders made their way to the middle of the neutral zone.
She had never admired anyone more in her life.
The German commander extended his hand, and Captain Davies shook it warmly in both of his. Then he was yanked into an embrace, and the German turned to face his own trench, arm raised.
“Ready weapons,” Hawkins warned, but it was a needless order. Rook’s rifle was already trained on the German’s head.
Still, no shots rang out, no bullets riddled their brave captain. Instead, a cheer went up from the enemy line, and then both commanders swung around to face the British.
Lieutenant Hawkins was breathing fire, but what could he do?
Captain Davies offered his counterpart a drink from his own flask, and Ash and her companions let out a cheer before spilling over the top despite the lieutenant’s spluttering.
They rushed into No Man’s Land the same way they raced into battle: pushing fear and doubt aside, relying on adrenaline to see them through. Once there, however, they became shy and uncertain.
“Frohe Weihnachten,” a soldier no older than Ashley said, offering his hand.
“Happy Christmas,” she replied.
“Prost,” exclaimed another, throwing his arm around his buddy and shoving a bottle in her hand. She nodded and took a swig, surprised by the alcohol’s sweet flavor.