In Flanders’ field where soldiers sleep,
A choir from Ireland, memories keep.
Two headstones tell a tale untold,
Of a truce in war, a story bold.
Delaney and Murphy side by side,
In that gap, a peace did abide.
Christmas Eve to the 30th day,
A pause in time, a truce’s sway.
Unknown soldiers, known to God,
Inscribed on stones, where they trod.
Thirteen thousand, a daily toll,
Yet in that gap, survivors stroll.
Children, grandchildren, a legacy true,
Born from the truce that once there grew.
Simple moments, in history profound,
A whispered peace on hallowed ground.
(Jacqui Fleming – Peace Choir)
10 years ago, our Peace Choir travelled to Messines in Belgium to mark the 100th anniversary of the Christmas Truce. Here on the outer frontiers of Flanders we came face to face with the power of a simple Christmas carol to momentarily silence the war-torn landscape. For one fleeting moment amidst the carnage, peace lingered into the night. Faint echoes from afar shine still against the darkest of skies urging us to give peace a chance once more. On this most silent of nights, let us remember.
The mystical notes of ‘Silent Night’ carry us back to where it all began. Its poignant lilt of harmonies and unadorned lyrics have the power to stop us in our tracks. I’ve seen an elderly woman in a coma in a nursing home momentarily re-awaken and join us in song, noticed hardened men drawn to a space they thought they had left behind, viewed children by the crib transported on a musical odyssey back to the manger in Bethlehem, watched a homeless woman cradle the infant child while the warm, lingering lyrics from carol singers close by took on a meaning only she knew.
Christmas without ‘Silent Night’ would feel incomplete. The origin of this timeless carol is worth remembering. In 1818, a roving band of actors was performing in towns throughout the Austrian Alps. On December 23rd, they arrived at Oberndorf, a village near Salzburg, where they were to re-enact the story of Christ’s birth in the small Church of St. Nicholas. Given that the church organ was out of commission and would not be repaired before Christmas, the actors decided to present their version of the Christmas story in a private home.
One of audience, assistant pastor Josef Mohr, was inspired to reflect anew on the meaning of Christmas. Instead of walking straight to his house that night, Mohr took a longer way home. His fateful Camino took him up over a hill overlooking the village. He stopped to survey the peaceful, snow-drenched citadel of light below. Reveling in the majestic silence of the wintry night, Mohr gazed down at the glowing Christmas card-like scene. Time past and present froze in creative fusion. He intuitively adapted a poem he had written years previously to the play he had just seen.
Mohr enlisted the help of his friend, church organist Franz Xaver Gruber, to compose a musical setting for the poem that could sound well even without the church organ. Within hours they both sung ‘Stille Nacht’ at their Christmas Eve service before the small congregation in Oberndorf with the accompaniment of a guitar. It was beautifully understated, magical.
Christmas 1914 on the battlefields of Messines brings us face to face with the power of this simple carol. Picture the scene. Young men and boys sunk in the blemished mud of Flemish and French trenches, ears reverberating to the terrifying sounds of shells exploding before them with a deafening defiance – scarcely imaginable to spectators from afar. Germans on one side; the French, British and Irish on the other. Between them, ‘no man’s land’ littered with the spoils of war, a sordid premonition of the fate in store for up to 13,000 soldiers a day.
Yet, amidst the chaos, hope simmered fleetingly on the horizon. The German soldiers were sent Christmas trees from home and placed them above their trenches, numbing the oppressive doom that enveloped them. A strange confluence of dark and light rose from the shadowy mire. The luminous trail extended for miles, a seamless halo from afar that transfigured the wretched landscape. The soldiers were moved. They remembered their loved ones back home.
They momentarily forgot where they were. And then the German tenor sang ‘Stille Nacht’. Soldiers from both sides fearlessly opted to leave the relative sanctuary of the trenches and embraced their ‘foe’ as their own. Stories were told, cigarettes smoked, brandy consumed, even a football match was played. Once hostile voices merged as one in common humanity.
A young British soldier, Albert Moren, near La Chapelle D’Armentieres, France, recalled: “It was a beautiful moonlit night, frost on the ground, white almost everywhere; and… there was a lot of commotion in the German trenches and then there were those lights – I don’t know what they were. And then they sang ‘Stille Nacht’ – ‘Silent Night’. I shall never forget it. It was one of the highlights of my life.”
Against the bleakest of backdrops, a spark was lit and the shroud lifted. Humanity had become participants in the nativity story 1914 years on revealing the face of the infant Jesus to the world. Their song echoes in the stillness of the night. Hidden in the silhouette, their hushed murmurings can still be heard. It is then they realised only kindness really matters. Echoes from afar whisper softly through veiled skies. The men of 1914 did not just remember the first Christmas; they lived out its meaning.
I was privileged to travel to Messines in December 2014 with The Peace Choir to pay homage in song to the young men of the Christmas Truce on the 100th anniversary. It was deeply humbling to see the graves of two Irishmen side by side in one of the tiny cemeteries scattered across the furrowed fields. On one headstone: 24th of December 1914, Private Delaney; on the other, 29th of December 1914, Private Murphy. In between… the Christmas Truce. Echoes of this kind run deep and challenge us to embrace our common humanity. Distil us down to our essence and we are all One.
The star shines down on a still broken world. War continues to wreak agonising torment on innocent civilians in places like Gaza and Ukraine and tinge their once sacred lands beyond all recognition. Surely now is the hour to re-claim the spirit of the Christmas Truce. The heroism of the young men of 1914 happened through small, microscopic moments of human solidarity beyond the glare of their unknowing masters; a soccer match, broken bread, shared stories… this silent night lingered ‘til dawn. They have handed down their song for us to sing. Only then can they sleep in heavenly peace.
Phil and Elaine would like to wish you all a very happy and peaceful Christmas. The Peace Choir will lead the ‘Silent Night – remembering the Christmas Peace Truce’ in The Sacred Heart Church, Ballyoughter, Gorey on Friday December 13th, The Edmund Rice Chapel, Waterford on Friday December 20th and St Michael’s Church, Gorey on Saturday December 21stth. All are welcome!
For more information on our exciting new Celtic Ways Ireland tour offerings for 2025, check out our website at www.celticwaysireland.com or you can simply email us directly on info@celticwaysireland.com
Thank you to Valerie Hart, who provided the cover image.