SILENT NIGHT

(A story based on a song based on a true story)

"Hell of a way to spend Christmas, huh?"
I nod, agreeing with my buddy's choice of words. I can't imagine hell to be any worse than our present circumstances. We're sitting in a trench, up to our knees in mud, trying to kill the enemy before they kill us.
"Well, at least it's quiet today," I say, trying to sound cheerful, even though my heart aches at the thought of not spending the holidays with my family. I've been away from my wife and daughter for several months, fighting the invading Germans.
"Yeah, too quiet, if you ask me," my buddy, ever the optimist, replies.
We sit there, saying no more, enjoying the blessed silence, watching the snowflakes dance in the wind. As Christmas approached, weapons fire lessened, almost as if we were all growing weary of battle. In spite of the silence, we still keep our heads down, having tragically learned how efficient German snipers are.
My buddy sits up and cocks his head to the side, like my golden retriever would do whenever the doorbell rang. "Do you hear that?" I raise my head and close my eyes. A lone voice drifts toward us, carried by the wind. "Stille nacht, heilige nacht," a German soldier sings. Even though the words make no sense to me, I recognize the song. So does my buddy, because he whispers the next line. "All is calm, all is bright."
Fully aware that my next move may cost me my life, I nevertheless stand up and sing. I breathe a sigh of relief that no sniper takes advantage of my foolishness. Directly across from me, standing up in his trench, is the German soldier who we heard singing. Our voices intertwine, filling the darkness between us.
"Round yon virgin, mother and child."
"Holder Knabe mit lockigen Haar."
I feel a hand on my shoulder. My buddy is standing by my side, and he raises his voice in song. Up stands another German soldier. One by one, men on both sides rise from the trenches and join in.
Joy fills my heart, and, for the first time since I've been out here fighting, I don't feel so alone. The singing is more beautiful than anything I've ever heard from any church choir. I continue to sing, tears streaming down my cheeks.
"Christ der Retter ist da."
"Christ the Savior is born."
The last notes are swept away by the wind, and silence falls upon the battlefield once more, a silence filled with reverential awe and wonder. I imagine this is what Heaven is like. All men living in peace, singing praises to their Creator.
For the second time that night, the silence is broken by an unexpected sound. Applause. I don't know who started it, but it spreads throughout the lines instantly. We are all cheering and clapping, shouts of Merry Christmas and Froehliche Weihnachten bursting through the snow-filled skies.
I wave at the man who was the first to sing. He smiles and waves back. Tomorrow we will be on opposite sides again, but, today, we are brothers, both hoping that the moment we are sharing tonight will be shared by all someday.
The cheering stops, as an ominous whistle sounds overhead, followed by an explosion. The bomb lands miles away, but it still manages to destroy the piece of Heaven we found. Hell has returned to the battlefield.
I nod at my newfound friend, soon to be my enemy again. He stands at attention and salutes me, smiling, yet sadness emanates from him.
I return the salute and watch as soldiers on both sides disappear, sinking back into the ground, like prairie dogs sensing danger. I cast one last glance at the battlefield where angels had danced, and then, sighing, return to the cold comfort of my trench.