On the 24 December 1914, English and German combat units ceased fighting each other. Instead of gunfire they exchanged presents, throwing cigarettes rather than grenades. For a few days the madness that had already taken so many lives of the BEF, of Belgian, French and German conscripts; the misery of those Flanders fields came to a sudden halt.
The cattle learned that it is not in their best interest to slaughter each other. The Lions that were made to die like sheep in the shambles were to reign like true kings again. Cannon fodder that no longer appeased the hunger of Krupp.
What a wonderful moment in time.
No one was held responsible or court martialed for no longer killing the other frost-bitten guy only for wearing other colours. Instead the panic stricken generals and leaders silently removed the units and placed them somewhere else to fight someone else, against a now unknown and again faceless enemy. And fought they did. And died in miserable bravery.
The one bright moment was over.
Merry Christmas. Joyeux Noël. Frohe Weihnachten. And a happy New Year.