by John McCutcheon  
on the album "Winter Soltice"

McCutcheon writes: "This song is based on a true story from the front lines of World War I France that I've heard many times. According to a recent source, Ian Calhoun, a Scot, was the commanding officer of the British forces involved in this story. He was subsequently courtmarshalled for "consorting with the enemy" and sentenced to death. Only George V spared him from that fate."

My name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool 
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 away 

I was lying with my messmate on the cold and rocky ground 
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 harmony 
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 coming toward us!" the front line sentry cried 
All sights were fixed on one long figure trudging from their side 
His truce flag, like a Christmas star, shone on that plain so bright 
As he, bravely, stroke unarmed into the night 

Soon one by one on either side walked into No Man's Land 
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 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 violin 
This curious and unlikely band of men 
Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more 
With sad farewells we each prepared to settle back to war 
But the questions 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 frozed 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 forevermore 

My name is Francies Tolliver, in Liverpool I dwell 
Each Chrstmas come since World War I, I've learned its lessons well 
That 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.