Germans were very fond of flinging these hand-bombs and seemed to have a great idea of their value in attacks and defence.
Christmas Eve was with us, Christmas Day was soon to dawn—and what a strange and terrible Christmas it was to be!
On Christmas Eve itself we plainly heard the Germans shouting.
“A merry Christmas to you!” they said, and there was no mistaking the German voices that came to us in our trenches out of the darkness.
“A merry Christmas to you!”
Again the Germans greeted us, though we could not see them, and there was something pathetic in the words, which were shouted in a lull in the fighting. Some of our men answered the wish, but I did not—I had no heart to do so, when I knew that the message meant so little.
It may have been a matter of sentiment, because this was the time of peace on earth and goodwill towards men, or it may not; but at any rate the order came that if the Germans did not fire we were not to fire. But Christmas or no Christmas, and in spite of their greetings, the Germans went on firing, and we were forced to do the same, so throughout the night of Christmas Eve we had our rifles going and did not stop till it was daylight.
But the rifle fire was not the only sound of warfare that was heard—there was the sharp booming of artillery. The field batteries were hard at it and we knew they must be doing fearful mischief amongst the Germans. The night became truly awful; but how dreadful we did not know till Christmas Day itself, then, the firing having ceased, we saw that the ground in front of us, not very far away, was littered with the German dead.
A Merry Christmas!