On Christmas Eve 1914 on battle lines in France known as The Western Front
an event happened which will be the main theme of the Kirkby Times Christmas message.
Back then, World War One was in progress and the German, British and French soldiers
were amassed in a series of trenches and engaged in a long bitter and bloody battle.
The water that lined the base of the muddy system of trenches was frozen. The men
on both sides were cold and miserable and with Christmas approaching they grew uneasy
and tired of the killing which had already taken thousands of lives with the only
gains being a few hundred feet of land.
Why do we fight?
Many of the soldiers were workers torn away from their homes and
families and loved ones. You could well imagine each soldier looking into no mans
land at the opposing side and hoping the killing would stop. After all, what were
these men fighting for? Had they not been ordered to fight, they would never have
thought to meet up with their German counterparts in a series of vast muddy fields
to fight to the death for the greed of the arms dealers and the stupidity and
cynicism of the ruling classes.
The Enemy across No Mans Land.
Hundreds of men had already been slaughtered along 'No Mans land' on the Western Front
and bodies lay frozen in the mud between the two opposing trenches. Every so often men
would put up the white flag and try to recover their dead. Over time the opposing soldiers
would come to tactic agreements on various details such as removal of the dead and other
small favours. The Officers tried their best to create an Army which saw all Germans as
the enemy, but countless incidents occurred in which fraternisation between the sides
was common near the front-lines. After all, these men got to know the men they were
fighting, the heard their voices float over, their laughter, and sometimes their
songs.
Christmas Eve 1914
Just before midnight on Christmas Eve the British in the trenches noticed small
lights being lit and held high in the air. Some soldiers peered cautiously through
binoculars and saw that the German soldiers were holding up candles on the end of
their bayonets, some even holding up Christmas trees. As British soldiers looked
on, they saw signs being held up with messages written stating 'Merry Christmas'
and 'I don't shoot - You don't shoot' Through the still silence of no mans land
the British heard a song in the air. At first one lone voice rang out. Slowly the
voice was joined by others. Although the words were in German the tune was quickly
recognized as "Silent Night, Holy Night" To men who had been shaken for months by
the furious barrage of shells and the gunfire, this sound could easily have been
compared to a choir of Angels.
A Few Magical Hours.
One by one the soldiers ventured out into the 'No man's land' the
small pieces of land that lay between the two opposing trenches. The men
walked past hundreds of slain comrades and the land torn by shells and
reduced to a mess of mud, blood and the odd scorched tree. The men that
just hours beforehand were trying to kill each other were now looking
at the photos of each others loved ones. Men with wives and children
spoke in the universal language of all such men. They realised that
their 'enemy' only wanted the same as them, to be home with their wives
and children. The men passed around dehydrated beef and other food, some
played football and others just told stories. For a few magical hours,
the World had witnessed a Christmas which perhaps Jesus himself would
have wept to see.
The Slaughter continues.
When Christmas had ended the men shook hands and with tears in their eyes
and dread in their hearts went back to their own trenches. A German General
stood on the edge of his trench and bowed toward his enemies. A British General
saluted toward him. The men, who had for a brief time saw their enemies as men
like themselves, were now ordered to kill again.
The above story has been rewritten using several sources, but the
story is a famous one and is one the authorities actually don't like to see
aired too much or looked at in any real detail. The British Government is
still in the business of using working class lads as potential cannon fodder,
we saw this in Iraq and we can see it when the Kings regiment are busy
in Kirkby Town Center looking for more recruits for fight for Queen and
Country. Unlike the lads in WW1, today's soldier isn't forced to join.
But there is a lot of pressure on lads in Kirkby, we have many who have
no qualifications and the Army deliberately targets such areas confident
that the social deprivation will give them tough lads who are skint.
A perfect combination for any Army.
Cannon Fodder From Kirkby 2003.
At the Kirkby Civic Buildings there is a monument to the fallen of Kirkby,
this includes the 100th soldier to be killed in the Northern Ireland conflict
who was an unemployed lad from this town. As we can now see, the Irish conflict
was prolonged by the politicians and once the talking began with the peace process,
the killing of young soldiers stopped and we have not had a death since. When the
death was reported in the Daily Post, an announcement appeared above the story. It
stated.........
"BOYS! WIN A DAY WITH THE ARMY! - NEW CONTEST!
Kirkby Councillor, John King
told the Daily Post that "I think it's wrong the army moving into a town like
Kirkby, they are taking advantage because they know young lads here are desperate
for money" This was said in September 1972, and the photo above is from December
2003 and shows the Kings Regiment recruiting in Liverpool Town Center. They are
here in Kirkby on a regular basis because, as Cllr John King informed us, back
in 72, "they are taking advantage because they know young lads here are desperate
for money". 31 years later and nothing really changes does it?
The Last of the Magnificent Generation
On Christmas Eve 1914, the events on the Western Front have offered a
beacon of hope to working class people who read and listen to the story. A
young squaddy may laugh, but any soldier who has actually fought will know
that his enemies in the Falklands, or Iraq or Ireland, were mostly men like
them forced into impossible situations. Once the bullets start flying, there
is little time to indulge in the luxury of debate. Only when the war ends do
soldiers have time to think about the situation and for the lads on Xmas Eve
1914, most of them are here no longer, having passed on through old age.
Those who remain are few and far between now, there numbers fall as each
year passes, many of us will look back on our own family members who
fought through those dark days.
A Land Fit for heroes?
The lads who made it back from the hell of the Western Front came back
to a land which the politicians assured them would be 'fit for heroes'.
And for a while we saw some moves to improve the lot of the working class
people who returned, but nothing was given by the Government, it had to
be fought for tooth and nail. The NHS,proper schooling, social housing, unemployment
and pension payments, all of these were fought for and not one benefit was ever
gained by the working class without a fight. Many of the men who
returned from the First World War would be engaged in the fight
to ensure better living working and social conditions for all of
us working class people.
They should have turned the guns on the Warmongers.
The mistake that was made on Christmas of 1914 on the Western Front
was that the German, French and British soldiers, after their brief
understanding of the futility of this War, went back to their trenches
and went back to killing each other, ordered to do so , under threat
of firing squad, by the upper classes. Imagine that the soldier had
instead picked up there guns, killed any man who ordered them to fight,
and then proceeded to go home and shoot the arms dealers, the blood-thirsty
politicians and the Upper Class fools who saw Glory in War.
Thanks.
In St Chads Church in Kirkby, there is a monument to the lads from
Kirkby and the surrounding farmland, who left this peaceful small
village as it was then, to cross the English Channel and fight for
'Justice' and 'Freedom'. The
memorial has been wrecked in the last
decade or so. Sometimes I stand there when out walking, I stop for
a while and say a few silent thanks, not a prayer, just a thanks
for what these people did, the sacrifice they made and the work
themselves and their wives and kids put into this town. I feel
like we owe them something. How many of us feel this way?
A Warning
I also feel anger at the politicians who deny the decent people
of Kirkby, the descendants of these heroes, the right to the Justice and Freedom
which we were promised. And looking at the statistics which reveal 21,800 pensioners
died from the cold in the UK in 2002, I would appeal for all working class people
who read this to NEVER take up arms for the likes of Blair and his friends. If
we must fight a war, let it be a war against poverty and greed and our own politicians
who would bow at the cenotaph yet allow 21,800 pensioners to die from the cold. If we
don't make a stand, the monument to the Kirkby Lads over in St Chad's will mean nothing.
As many as 50,000 people could die "unnecessarily" in the UK this winter.
More than 2,500 people in England and Wales are
likely to have died in the past week (Dec 2003) as a direct result of
cold weather, health forecasters say. (BBC website Dec 23 2003)
The greatest Christmas story there ever was
We don't know whether any of the lads who are commemorated
in St Chads were witness to the events on the eve of Christmas 1914.
I hope they were. I hope that before they died they knew that there
was hope for future generations. I hope they sat down with the Germans
and for one brief moment in the bloody history of War, they came to an
understanding which still echoes through the years. I hope everyone who
reads about the events will tell them to their children. The story of
Christmas Eve 1914 is just something I have interpreted from the
evidence out there. The events were true. It is perhaps the greatest
Christmas story there ever was.
I am the enemy you killed, my friend.
I knew you in this dark: for so you frowned
Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.
I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.
Let us sleep now...'
Wilfred Owen (Strange Meeting 1917)
On behalf of myself and all the contributors to Kirkby Times, I'd like
to wish a Happy Christmas to all the readers of Kirkby Times. All the best!
