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Christmas In The Trenches Tab

by John Mccutcheon


Christmas in the Trenches
By John McCutcheon
Winter Solstice (1984)
As interpreted by Joe G

Capo on 2

INTRO: , , , 

                                 
My name is Frances Tolliver, I come from Liver-pool
                                       
Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school
                           
To Belgium and to Flanders, to Germany, to here
                                 
I fought for King and country I love dear
                                                   
'Twas Christmas in the trenches, where the frost so bitter hung
                                                         
The frozen fields of France were still, no Christmas song was sung
                                   
Our families back in England were toasting us that day
                                   
Their brave and glorious lads so far a-way


                                    
I was lying with my messmate, on the cold and rocky ground
                                              
When a-cross the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound
                                        
Says I, now listen up me boys, each soldier strained to hear
                                    
As one young German voice sang out so clear
                                              
He's singing bloody well you know, my partner says to me
                                                   
Soon one by one each German voice, joined in in har-mo-ny
                                    
The cannons rested silent, the gas clouds rolled no more
                                      
As Christmas brought us respite from the war


                                        
As soon as they were finished, and a reverent pause was spent
                                              
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, struck up some lads from Kent
                                                
The next they sang was "Stille Nacht", 'tis "Silent Night" says I
                                    
And in two tongues, one song filled up that sky
                                                 
There's someone comin' t'wards us, the frontline sentry cried
                                                        
All sights were fixed on one lone figure trudging from their side
                                            
His truce flag like a Christmas star shone on that plain so bright
                                     
As he bravely strode un-armed into the night


                                      
Then one by one, on either side, walked into No Man's Land
                                          
With neither gun or bayonet, we met there hand to hand
                                   
We shared some secret brandy and wished each other well
                                    
And in a flare-lit soccer game, we gave 'em hell
                                              
We traded chocolates, cigarettes and photographs from home
                                                  
These sons and fathers far away from families of their own
                                        
Young Sanders played his squeezebox and they had a vi-o-lin
                                 
This curious and un-likely band of men


                                         
Soon daylight stole u-pon us, and France was France once more
                                           
With sad farewells we each began to settle back to war
                                              
But the question haunted every heart that lived that wondrous night
                             
Whose family have I fixed within my sights
                                                  
'Twas Christmas in the trenches where the frost so bitter hung
                                                           
The frozen fields of France were warmed as Christmas songs were sung
                                          
For the walls they kept be-tween us to ex-act the work of war
                                      
Had been crumbled and are gone for ever-more


                               
Oh my name is Frances Tolliver, in Liverpool I dwell
                                                           
Each Christmas come since World War One, I've learned it's lessons well
                                               
That the ones who call the shots, won't be a-mong the dead and lame
                                
And on each end of the rifle, we're the same