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Genre: Fandom
Marvel Comics - Earth 616
Context: Jason Blood; occultist, mage, counterpart to Etrigan the Demon, and nigh immortal ex-knight from the realms of Camelot itself, is spreading some holiday cheer to an orphanage in Gotham city.
Christmas in the Trenches - John McDermott
Marvel Comics - Earth 616
Context: Jason Blood; occultist, mage, counterpart to Etrigan the Demon, and nigh immortal ex-knight from the realms of Camelot itself, is spreading some holiday cheer to an orphanage in Gotham city.
Christmas in the Trenches - John McDermott
They hadn't called it Christmas up until recent centuries – a holiday that while not lining up with actual historical records, had soon become a gathering ground for a hodgepodge of various feasts and festivals ranging from the Roman holiday of Saturnalia to the celebration of Epiphany that the western culture would condone as the visit of the Magi. English traditions would also carve out the idea of Saint Nicholas and the receiving of presents in the shoes you left outside at your door. Holidays meant something back then – well before the idea of shopping became a popular notion (and even a sport in some cases). One would think the historian that Blood was, that Christmas might have been a less cheerful time of year – when in fact it was quite the opposite. For all the fifteen hundred Christmas days that he had yet lived through, there was one that rang in his memory as paramount in both importance and in gravity – and he had spent it in the trenches.
Children gathered about on the carpeted section of an old wooden floor where a fireplace was lit and roaring in the background. There weren't many decorations to be had in the Gotham orphanage, but the tree that rested in the corner boasted a load of presents that the residents of this worthy cause hadn't seen in years. Jason hadn't delivered the presents as Santa – as the version of this gift giving Kringle wasn't exactly his most favored of the tales – but he was wearing a single Santa cap for the sake of the children seated in a worn but sturdy rocking chair. It was the expansive sea of faces all ages and races, the girth of the orphans that was somewhat daunting to see, and while he could certainly afford to adopt several of them, he also knew that would be a disaster in the making. He was here for one specific reason, and that was to give the gift of Christmas that he had been given a long long time ago.
Deft digits hit the chords of an old acoustic guitar, vibrating the strings with the pass of his hand, and starting into a certain melodic tone. A smile touched the man's face as he adopted an accent that he didn't use often; hailing back to his country of origin. While the song was a memorial to an event long ago, it was actually fairly accurate (which had surprised the former knight when he first heard it recorded). Plucking along the chords, and drawing out the tune to start, his crystal blue eyes shifted up to look over the gathered faces entranced by the melody. A few of the older ones sported cups of cocoa as a Christmas treat while others were huddled together in blankets – those that were fortunate enough to have siblings there were found together in pairs. The dulcet tones of an Irish accent ebbed out as the song started.
Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school.
From Belgium and to Flanders to Germany to here
I fought for King and country I love dear.
'Twas Christmas in the trenches and the frost so bitter hung,
The frozen fields of France were still, no songs of peace were sung,
Our families back in England were toasting us that day,
Their brave and glorious lads so far away.
The year was 1914 and the world was at war. Europe was tangled on the battlefields that bordered Paris, where a twenty-seven mile long trench was carved out in the dead of winter. On one side the men of the British service were dug in, sometimes no more than thirty yards before the Germany trench started. Jason recalled his time there, in the freezing cold of both snow and sometimes sleeting rain. The sniping and heavy machine-gun fire was all around the men, as life in the trenches was an abominable place to be. Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months. The allies had stopped the German assault from advancing before they could reach that city – with the combined might of both French and British soldiers. Among the monotony and the dreary cold weather, a beacon of light had shown through the night of Christmas Eve, that event had forever turned the hearts and minds of the fathers and the sons to a very different outlook. For Jason it would also spark something inside his heart that would stay with him for as long as he would live.
When across 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 harmony
The cannons rested silent, and the gas cloud rolled no more
As Christmas brought us respite from the war.
In truth it hadn't been as spontaneous as the lyrics indicated, but he wouldn't fudge a man for creative license to make a verse rhyme. He knew well what it took to make a verse rhyme with the next after all. The Germans had sent over a chocolate cake as a peace offering and requested a truce to hold a concert in time for the season. Jason's fingers continued to strum as his voice held a natural vibrato while keeping the accent as thick and heavy as the song's founder had on stage. This wasn't your usual Christmas song, but it was far more powerful a song to Jason, not only because of what it meant to him, but what it could mean to them.
"God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" struck up some lads from Kent
Aw, the next they sang was "Stille Nacht," "To 'Silent Night'," says I
And in two tongues one song filled up that sky.
"There's someone coming towards us now!" the front line 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 trudged unarmed into the night.
Commanding officers certainly were against that plan, as Jason recalled. Men were leaving their posts, their trenches and their weapons to move into 'no man's land' with hands raised above their helmets. Though with the sheer majority of them out on the field of battle, even the officers had to lay waste to their own ideals and join the men – shaking hands with their German counterparts. Blood recalled fondly how quickly the barriers were broken as they shared their own trinkets and secret caches of chocolate and tobacco. It was even suggested that there be a picture taken, unfortunately neither side at that time were allowed to bring anything to a photograph the event.
The workers at the orphanage didn't really know what to expect when Jason called them up and came with a truckload of gifts for the children, and were even more surprised at the tune he was singing. Neither could they say they actually minded much, as the children seemed to be entranced by the music and were going to have one of the best Christmas days they could remember. Blood gave a smile to a little girl who had moved to sit even closer staring up at him with big blue eyes. Jason often wondered how his own daughter was in times like this, but he knew he'd never really be able to know, nor was it rightly deserved.
With neither gun nor bayonet we met there hand to hand
We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well
And in a flare-lit football game we gave 'em hell.
We traded chocolates, and cigarettes, and photographs from home
These sons and fathers far away from families of their own
Tom Sanders played his squeeze box and they had a violin
This curious and unlikely band of men.
That day had meant a lot to the soldiers on either side. The captains and the admirals that had charged the platoons to press forward or hold the line were not pleased in the least with this Christmas truce, but they also were unable to stop it. Jason had found himself swapping stories with some of the Germans in their native tongue, recounting the last few years with them. The Germans weren't exactly the most adept at what the Americans called soccer, and the British were able (as the song said) to beat the pants off of them – but it was a rousing good time to break up the mask of war. Even back then, he knew this story would be retold time and again – and as much as it was monumental, to this day he'd not seen it happen again. It was also the last war of men that Jason would fight in as a soldier.
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, and the frost so bitter hung
The frozen fields of France were warmed as songs of peace were sung
For the walls they'd kept between us to exact the work of war
Had been crumbled and were gone for evermore.
It was a harrowing thought that had shaken him from the idea of war. He'd lived it most of his life. A knight of Camelot, a soldier in various other conflicts. He had shed the blood of thousands in his life all in the ideals of serving a king and a country, a land and a general. While there was certainly evil in the world – evil that these children need not ever see, the men that fought in service were rarely of that caliber and were often just the same on either side, following orders that they did not often truly understand. The strumming continued, as the song shifted to a close. Smiles touched the faces of the children present and the workers who kept vigil by the threshold of the parlor room.
Each Christmas come since World War One I've learned its lessons well
For the ones who call the shots won't be among the dead and lame
And on each end of the rifle we're the same.
The music died down, notes fading on though the reverberation of the strings until his palm pressed to the chords to cease their sound, and the guitar was placed down at his side. That same blue-eyed little girl who had been sitting at his feet was pulled into his lap with a smile. A nod was given to one of the workers and they started gathering the kids to pull presents from the tree. All of them wrapped for the sheer joy of tearing the paper off. Jason took one from the volunteer and handed it to the little girl so she could unwrap the present on his lap. The evening snow outside was falling gently and the lights around the window pane blinked a bright red and green as Jason traded the Christmas in the trenches for a far more peaceful scene.
“Merry Christmas.”
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