Der Christams Waffenstillstand

by J.M.Lamoreux

It was called “The Christmas Truce.”
It is spoken of every year and there are still old men
With fading eyes who remember it.

At a time when modern people,
Unable to learn war’s dark lessons,
Are still tangled up in their cycles of destruction
That always lead to death and heartache,
This story reaches into the heart of the
Christmas Holiday
And brings out of it one single
Shining moment of Peace.

It is a Christmas gift to humanity,
One to last beyond the last drum-stick or stale glass of wine.

It’s told like this:

The British Army
Was manning a line facing the Germans
Running from the Ypres to the
La Bassee Canal.

If you looked long enough
You could see your enemy anywhere from 70
To 30 yards away.

Both sides hunkered down
In freezing weather
Sometimes their trenches collapsed with water
The stench from the dead clung
To everything.

Men called to one another
Across the distance
Sometimes hurling insults,
Sometimes to offer a tacit, local truce.

Packets from home
Began to dribble into the trenches on both sides.
The British got “Princess Mary Boxes,”
A picture card marked with,
“May God protect you andBring you safe home.”

The Germans got meerschaum pipes
And cigars for the NCO’s.
The Belgians and French got gifts too.

In the darkness
A chocolate cake came from the Germans
Asking for a cease fire.
They called for a concert
At 7:20 at night
With candles being placed
On the parapets of trenches.

The British accepted
And sent tobacco back
To the Germans.

At 7:30 heads began to pop upand sing.

Each song was met with applause
From both sides.

The Germans asked the British to join them
With a wry smile the reply was
“We’d rather die than sing German.”
The Germans said.”It would kill us if you did.”

The rain was replaced that night
With clear skies.

Bullets still thudded into the mud in some sectors
But lightly.

In other sectors the silence was amazing
Punctuated with shouts back and forth, singing,
And sharing holiday greetings.

Small Tannenbaums magically sprinkled the
German trenches
And were lit with candles.

The Indian Corps soldiers
Were reminded of the Hindu Festival of Light.

In his entrenched château 27 miles behind the front
With other British brass hats
Sir John French warned of the
Dangers of fraternization.

But on the front lines
The “truce” was tolerated by many of the officers.

Hair cuts were given by German barbers
Songs were sung, rations thrown to one another.
Kick-ball games were played in the mud.
The Medical Corps reported that the British team
Was beaten by the Germans 3-2.

Here and there
Some took the opportunity to
Retrieve their dead.

Captain J.C.Dunn fired three shots and put up a flag
With “Merry Christmas” on it.
The Germans put up a flag with
“Thank You” on theirs.
Everyone bowed and saluted,
Returned to the trenches,
Two shots were fired in the air
And the war was on again.

Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht!
Alles schläft; einsam wacht
Nur das traute heilige Paar.
Holder Knab im lockigten Haar,
Schlafe in himmlischer Ruh!
Schlafe in himmlischer Ruh!

Sleep in Heavenly Peace.

Arlington West

Arlington West
by Spec4 J.M.Lamoreux, 184th Ordinance Battalion
Bin Dinh Province, Vietnam
1968―Forever

It’s been a long time
Since I stood on a shore somewhere
And smelled the salt water
While the wind whisked itself
In a cool spray
Across my skin.

Suspended in the air
A seagull marks the moment
The sun rising under its white wings,
Handling the currents
Sustaining its effortless viewpoint.

The seagull looks behind me
Maybe fifty yards or so
Where the sand is dotted with
Carefully placed crosses.

Behind me is a symbol of lives abruptly ended
In front of me is the watery archetype
From which all life arose.
I am caught between
Two inevitable, inescapable directions.

Behind me
America is finally allowed to mourn.
It is allowed to voice its pain
As well as its pride.
It is allowed to support
Without being labeled a cheerleader
And dissent
Without being labeled “reprehensible.”

Mothers can come
And tend to their son or daughter’s cross
As they cared for them as children
Wiping noses and tears
Getting them dressed to go to school
And ready to go to bed.

No one says they are hurting the war effort.
They are tending to their grief.

Children can come here
And wonder who the names were
And no one chases them away
As we have all been chased away
From trying to understand
Any of this

The ground is decorated
With flowers, letters, stuffed animals
As if they all made their way alone
To some western version of Mecca.

People come
To speak to the departed
With their sorrow, tears,
And steady leaf-fall of
Colorful mementos
Gathering in one sigh
Of “I love you,” and “good-bye.”

Let us all come as one America
To Arlington West.

Let us speak what is in our hearts
And praise and question unmolested
By those who think that wars
Are not suffered by human beings

Who feel loss
And fear
And helplessness,
Hope,
Courage,
And pain,

Human beings who must travel for miles
Across a bitterly divided nation
To lay a ribbon

On a white cross

Placed on a beach on the shores
Of Santa Barbara, Santa Monica, Oceanside and―

The world.