SOLACE IN THE TRENCH... (My poem about the sound of singing in WW1 trenches on Christmas Eve 1914...)

 Solace In The Trench…

There was a lull.

A truce. An acceptance

As the filthy sky

Hovered, black and sullen

Leering over his trench.

And silence.

And a sense

That the God he had been urged

To fear,

Was for him no longer near

For his faith had been purged,

And his chest wept.

Yet the tears

Failed to wrench 

From eyes smarting and dull…

There was a melody.

A hymn. An incongruence

As the smoky air

Lurked like a maladie,

Peering over his trench.

And innocence.

And a sense

Of peace was being merged

 With fear

Sung by the enemy near.

And his faith, severely purged,

Into his chest crept.

And his tears

Fell on the stench

Of battle, such a sweet tragedy…

And Stille Nacht haunted

No Man’s Land

And all was calm

Although not bright.

And then more voices, undaunted,

Rose, as infantrymen began to stand,

The beauty a balm,

The battle a blight… 

Pete Ray…

World War 1, Christmas Eve 1914.

I would like to think that this might have been felt by at least one soldier, German, or English…

THE TRUCE MEMORIAL, NATIONAL MEMORIAL ARBORETUM, ALREWAS...

MY MATERNAL GRANDFATHER ALBERT HEDGES, SEATED ON A CHAIR, CENTRALLY...

MY PATERNAL GRANDFATHER, WILLIAM RAY, WHO WAS POSTED TO THE AREA WHERE THE 'TRUCE' TOOK PLACE...