A Soldier's Truce

Chapter 2

The sun rose out of its nightly hibernation from the ground, and dim light spread across the Western front. Christmas arrived. The first thing heard when the soldiers woke, was a gunshot. This marked the start of another bloody battle. 

They charged each other in a morning rainfall, firing arms, pitching grenades, and blasting cannons. English and Germen men who had laughed and celebrated Christ together the night before were now slaughtering each other. What had happened during the truce did not matter. This was war, and everything needed to be back to the way it was prior to the Christmas Eve interim. There needed to be sacrifice, bloodshed, anger, and bitterness, all for one's country. 

William reloaded his rifle in his sheltered trench, about to hurtle himself into a war that could take his life. His hands shook as he loaded. Loud gunfires only 5 feet away pierced his ears. Stepping out of his bunker cautiously, William first looked upon what was happening in the forefront. His brothers were dying. A fallen soldier of the opposing side lay just a few feet away from William. He remembered last night; this soldier was one that William made friends with. They spoke through a soldier who knew enough to translate their words. The dead soldier had a small family; wife and newborn son. They lived on a farm in the English countryside, raising cattle and sheep. His wife rejected the idea of her husband going off to war, as he would need help in raising their young son. 

William thought about how the man's his wife would feel when she hears of his passing. He thought about the man's son as well, and how his fatherless life will be. William wondered how hiss son will feel towards Santa Claus, knowing that on his first Christmas the jolly old man brought him a dead father.  William bowed his head, showing respect for former enemy. He said a short and silent prayer in his head. He ignored the war that surrounded him, all the blood-wrenching screams, and the hundreds of guns going off at once. It was a mistake that would cost.

A soldier, from long across the meadow of dead enemy and allied heroes, fired two shots with the absense of mercy, aiming directly at William, the 19 year old that impossibly brought peace to no man's land. He was struck. It was a throbbing pain; unimaginable.  He remained standing for a few long seconds, shocked and paralyzed. He looked down. One bullet penetrated right through the center of his chest, and the other found its place in his heart. He fell to his knees, and then to the ground, acting out the sign of the cross in the process. 

Silent night, no cannons roar.

 A King is born of peace forever more.

All's calm, all's bright,

All brothers hand in hand.

And that young soldier sings,

And the song of peace still ring.

For the captains and all the kings,

Build no man's land.

Sleep in heavenly peace.