December 24, 2012

• A REFRESHING PAUSE

  This a re-post from several years ago. I am not a christian, but I do have a spiritual side, and this story is as close to a modern-day miracle as I have ever read....

   

  Something akin to a miracle happened on Christmas Eve in 1914.  I am posting an article written by the Rev. Kevin Stanley, of the Carmelite order of Catholic Priests and Nuns. Merry Christmas, everybody!!

                   THE CHRISTMAS MIRACLE OF 1914

                     by Rev Kevin Stanley, O. Carm.

  Europe some 80 years ago was a tinder box awaiting for a spark that
  would ignite it into a terrible conflict known as World War I. Since the
  turn of the century the French had been enjoying what they dubbed "La
  belle Epoque" (the beautiful era). Great scientific progress and human
  exploration had been made. But still the mood was ominous and the clouds
  of war hung sullenly over Europe.

  The assassination of Archduke Francis Ferdinand of Austria on June 28,
  1914, at Sarajevo provided the spark that plunged Europe and much of the
  world into the greatest war known up to that time.
  

  Shortly after, the "guns of August" boomed and the mighty armies of
  British, French, German, Russian and Austro-Hungarian empire began a
  relentless war that would claim millions of lives before peace was
  restored.

  But in spite the shelling, gunfire, smoke, blood, mud and earth, a
  little-known miracle took place on Christmas day 1914. It was a miracle
  of human kindness and love.

  In November of that year, Pope Benedict XIV called for a cessation of
  hostilities on Christ's birthday. "Impossible." Was the reply from both
  sides.

  Kaiser Wilhelm II and the German high Command admonished their troops to
  "let their hearts beat to God during the coming season and keep their
  fists on the enemy". Meanwhile, at home, folks wondered, "How will the
  troops in the trenches fare?" French officers shrugged their shoulder
  and predicted that the sniper and gunner would be active as usual.

  "Judging by present portents," the Times of London added, "It is
  probable that the plum pudding will be eaten under fire, perhaps in the
  intervals of fierce action.

  When the German artillery, on Christmas Eve, mounted one of the most
  violent bombardments on the British Lines, the stern prediction seemed
  likely to prove correct. But what seems impossible to those in high
  places, is possible for ordinary soldiers, who often long only for peace
  and for home. The thousands of soldiers facing each other in the mud
  filled trenches that stretched from the Swiss border to the North
  Atlantic decided to call off the war themselves.

  At sundown on Thursday, a cold and frosty Christmas Eve, the firing died
  slowly until every gun was silent. The silence was almost eerie. What
  was happening?

  According to reports, it was a young British soldier who first sensed
  that a miracle had occurred. Standing guard at midnight in an isolated
  outpost in Flanders, Peter Goudge suddenly heard the German troops
  singing "Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht" (Silent Night, Holy Night). Goudge
  started singing too. Before long British and Irish troops of the British
  Expeditionary Forces began singing "O Come All Ye Faithful" to the
  cheers of the Saxon Infantry. The singing continued till all along the
  Western Front, former enemies were singing Christmas carols with joy and
  peace in their hearts.

  English and Irish troops then began to notice hundreds of coloured
  lights strung up by the German soldiers along the barbed wire in front
  of their trenches. And at intervals, along the trenches brightly
  coloured Christmas trees brought the solemnity of the season to the
  war-ravaged battle ground. Private Goudge was even more startled to see
  a lone German soldier picking his way across the desert of barbed wire
  and shell holes while holding aloft a tiny Christmas tree bright with
  flickering candles. Leaning over the barbed wire of the British trenches
  he shouted in English "Merry Christmas."

  "Merry Christmas to you", shouted back the soldiers. Soon the air was
  filled with shouts of Merry Christmas and "Froeliche Weihnachten."

  The Germans then shouted: "Come out. We will not shoot for Christmas."
  Timidly at first, troops of the BEF climbed out of their trenches and
  advanced unarmed to greet yesterday's enemies.

  When they met, on a line drawn halfway between opposite trenches, the
  soldiers regarded each other with curiosity. Officers saluted stiffly
  then shook hands. The Germans clicked their heels and they bowed. Some
  laughed, others were tears as they embraced.

  The Christmas spirit caught up quickly along the hundreds of miles of
  trenches. French troops shouted "Joyeux Noel!" and a French regiment
  band serenaded the German troops with classical music.

  Belgian and German troops exchanged gifts of cigars and cheese, presents
  from their loved ones at home.

  Christmas day dawned to the strange sight of formerly hostile soldiers
  exchanging gifts, good wishes and songs on the once bitterly contested
  battle fields. Despite the language and other barriers the spirit of
  Christmas overcame all. Soccer matches took place between teams from
  opposite armies and the Germans beat the English, 3-2. Minor officers
  and ordinary soldiers had photos taken with their opponents. It was
  difficult to tell that war had raged between these armies for five
  months.

  Toasts with beer and wine, or tea or coffee were offered for home and
  family and friends.

  The most popular toast though was for peace.

  Soldiers on both sides agreed not to take advantage of the lull in
  fighting to repair barbed wire on the trenches and if a shot were fired
  accidentally it would not be regarded as an hostile act.

  The only serious business on this day involved burying the dead. Both
  sides dug graves for those who had fallen, and the British supplied some
  wooden crosses. Then a party of Germans moved toward the British line,
  heads bare carrying the body of a British officer who had fallen behind
  their lines.

  As the early Friday darkness of cold Christmas day fell on Flanders the
  strange mix of former enemies gathered for a sing-along. British and
  German forces entertained each other by singing in turn. Allied
  contributions ranged from "It's a long way to Tipperary" to "Home Sweet
  Home."

  A fine German baritone overcame the difference of nationality with
  Schumann's "Two grenadiers" which was familiar to all. And a German
  cornet player warmed the soldiers' heart with popular sentimental airs.

  The troops applauded each other. At times a flare would illuminate the
  Christmas night sky and was greeted with a new round of cheering and cap
  waving.

  But as evening fell soldiers began to trickle back to their trenches to
  reluctantly resume the bitter business at hand. Tears and embraces
  marked the parting of thousands of soldiers who at last had found "peace
  on earth and good will to all men," if only for a day. The next flares
  shed light on a deserted "No Man's Land'.

  The barbed wire looked sinister and menacing again. Death was about to
  replace peace.

  A very young British soldier later wrote home, "They, the Germans, were
  really magnificent and jolly good fellows." But he ended the letter
  saying, "Both sides have started the firing and are enemies again.
  Strange, it all seems, doesn't it?"

  The Christmas miracle of 1914 had ended.

  The military high commands of both sides took severe measures to ensure
  that the warring troops would not repeat such an event in the future.
  There were no more Christmas miracles. But to those soldiers who took
  part in it, the day that war stopped for Christ's birthday, remains a
  cherished memory of peace on earth.
  

  • 10:26 pm
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