spend the day among the men in the line. I was
delighted to find that the weather had changed and a most glorious day
was lighting up the face of nature. The sky overhead was blue and only
a few drifting clouds told of the rain that had gone. The sun was beating
down warm and strong, as if anxious to make up for his past neglect.
The men, of course, were in high spirits, and the glad handshake and
the words "A Merry Christmas" had got back their old-time meaning.

The Colonel had given orders to the men not to fire on the enemy that
day unless they fired on us. The Germans had evidently come to the
same resolution. Early in the morning some of them had come over (p. 120)
to our wire and left two bottles of beer behind as a peace offering.
The men were allowed to go back to their trenches unmolested, but the
two bottles of beer quite naturally and without any difficulty continued
their journey to our lines. When I got up to the front trench, I found
our boys standing on the parapet and looking over at the enemy. I
climbed up, and there, to my astonishment, I saw the Germans moving
about in their trenches apparently quite indifferent to the fact that
we were gazing at them. One man was sawing wood. Between us and them
lay that mass of wire and iron posts which is known as the mysterious
"No Man's Land." Further down the hill we saw the trenches of the 13th
Battalion, where apparently intermittent "Straffing" was still going
on. Where we were, however, there was nothing to disturb our Christmas
peace and joy. I actually got out into "No Mans Land" and wandered
down it. Many Christmas parcels had arrived and the men were making
merry with their friends, and enjoying the soft spring-like air, and
the warm sunshine. When I got down to the 13th Battalion however, I
found that I had to take cover, as the German snipers and guns were
active. I did not have any service for that Battalion then, as I was
going to them on the following Sunday, but at evening I held another
midnight service for those of the 16th who were on duty the night
before.

The only place available was the billet of the Machine Gun Officer in
the second trench. It was the cellar of a ruined building and the
entrance was down some broken steps. One of the sergeants had cleaned
up the place and a shelf on the wall illuminated by candles was
converted into an altar, and the dear old flag, the symbol of liberty,
equality and fraternity, was once again my altar