This Christmas I saw no angels
Hanging in windows bright.
No child in a crib, no sparkling stars
But just a dark and freezing night.
This Christmas I smelt no mince pies
Coming out of the hot oven fresh.
No roasted meat or sweet spiced gravy.
Instead, just cold mud and rotting flesh.
This Christmas I heard no sleighbells.
The only noise was the sound of guns firing,
The shrieks of shells, the shrieks of men,
None of which showed signs of tiring.
But lo! They all cease as if dead.
It is silent the whole Front along.
And suddenly, in the bitter air I hear
The lonely notes of a German song.
Wait, I know the tune! I know the song!
And I too wish to sing, I too!
I might be the hero and you the Hun,
But we shall all sing along with you.
And when the dawn breaks over the trenches
We climb out and over the sharp wire.
Then face to face, hand in hand
We meet in the middle of the muddy mire.
We play football, we exchange gifts
We laugh. We tell tales. We make friends.
We share our food, we share