ABSTRACT
One hundred metres away, guns loaded and pointing at the Germans, English soldiers shuddered as a chill wind wound its way round their trench. They, too, lived with ice and rats and filth and . . . The lookout at the top of the English trench blinked twice, then squinted his eyes to make sure he really had seen what he thought he had seen.
Those Germans had lifted a Christmas tree with a lighted candle out of their trench. It flickered in the darkness. Now there was another tree and more candles and before long the trench top was a twinkling forest. The lookout called for his mates. They joined him, mesmerised by the lights and . . . the singing. German words, but the tune was the same; a Christmas carol they knew – “Silent night, holy night” a song about God sending his son to live on earth to bring peace. In this place where men were ordered to shoot each other?
