The Christmas Truce

 When war broke out, the British public cried,

'We'll be in Berlin by Christmas',

But by Christmas thousands had died,

As Mons, the Marne, Ypres and Messines cut

Down the youth of Europe, while Flanders floods

Drowned dying, dead and alive.

Summer's dream was swamped by winter's mud,

Rats, lice, death and blood

In No Man's Land; a hell hole nightmare scene

Of jagged wire, flares, shells, screams and shrapnel,

(A choreographed commonality,

That saw each side's men attack, flail and fall

In ceaseless dance of Death's banality),

Until Christmas Eve 1914,

When Hamburg, Berlin, London, Manchester

Said 'No!' to the killing fields' mad mayhem,

Ordered by King, Flag, Map and Kaiser,

And met instead in friendship. Walking tall

And slow, comrades in war's adversities,

They embraced in No Man's Land and football

Harmonised nations' animosities:

Stille Nacht. Heilige Nacht.