Christmas Truce Poetry

December, 2004
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Christmas in the Trenches, 1914


There in the early morning half-light,
shivering through fog there came a shout
a cry, a sudden burst of voices,
singing sounds of Christmas.
Oh, life, had I but waited for this very moment?
The rifle in my hand felt cold and awkward.
It had no place in this impromptu celebration.
German throats were speaking words of
welcome just days before I shot and swore
and cursed the faceless enemy not far
across the way.
And there between us both
the corpses fingers
twine together. Death draws no
lines, and has no enemies.
I climb out of the trench,
and taste the quiet air in No Man's Land.
Fumbling with little words,
I clasp the hands of some large
gray-clad lad,
I cry and shout and sing.
Death has no enemies,
and nor have I.

--Mairi McCloud
12/24/03

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They halted the war,
and shared a bit of their lives.
Christmas Day brings peace.

--Erin Fuda
December, 2003

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Chickenhawks' nightmare:
Christmas Past apparition
Who whispers "The Truce."

--Doug Fuda
December, 2003

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