The Truce’ by Jake Frood

‘The Truce’ by Jake Frood

In the depths of war’s relentless grind,

Amid the trenches’ frozen bind,

A fleeting peace, a fragile thread,

Wove through the fields where soldiers bled.

December’s frost, a bitter shroud,

Shook the earth where guns roared loud.

Yet on that night, a hush fell still,

As war’s cruel heart bent to human will.

From German lines a carol rose,

Soft and pure, it broke the throes.

“Stille Nacht,” so haunting sweet,

Drew weary foes from their cold retreat.

The British voices joined the air,

Their song an answer, a solemn prayer.

Silent night, a sacred sound,

Bound mortal foes on common ground.

Cautious steps through no man’s land,

With trembling hearts, they dared to stand.

A handshake here, a smile there,

Warriors laid their burdens bare.

They shared their rations, bread, and wine,

Traded tokens, gifts benign.

In that moment, hatred ceased,

And men remembered they were beasts.

A football match on barren soil,

An hour’s reprieve from blood and toil.

The ball rolled free, the laughter soared,

For once, no tally of lives was scored.

But dawn returned with its cruel decree,

The truce a dream, not meant to be.

The guns awoke, the orders came,

And men resumed their deadly game.

Yet deep within each soldier’s heart,

The memory stayed, a sacred part, 

Of Christmas Eve when stars aligned,

And peace revealed the ties that bind.

A fleeting glimpse, a whispered plea,

Of what the world, at peace, could be.

Though fleeting, it lingers still

The truce that proved the human will.