‘Joyeux Noël’: Friends, I Am the Enemy Who Killed You

War is Odious

Through cinematic portrayal and literary description, we witness the blood-soaked battlegrounds, the smoke-filled air, the thunderous sound of artillery, and the cries of combat. However, there's a scent no one wishes to recreate: the aftermath of tranquility, lying in the cold trenches amidst the deafening silence; what does one smell? In the Flanders of 1914, it was the stench of blood mixed with the foulness of restrooms and the putrefaction of unburied bodies. The artillery had turned the earth into a honeycomb, laced with gaping wounds, and a few night raids were enough to transform the territory into an open-air morgue. The peculiar smell of lime barely masked the acrid scent of the shells, making it all the more nauseating. During rainy seasons, the water collected in the trenches bloats the corpses, blurring the distinction between the frigid meals and the toxic gases permeating the air. Dig a little deeper while burying the dead, and you'd uncover bodies from the previous battles, rendering the surface water laden with deadly bacteria. Not to mention the lice and rats; the battlefield nourished them abundantly. While the entire nation faced devastation, these two species thrived. Death on this land might not have been the worst fate; one could hope for heaven after death, yet in life, one was confined to this muddy hell, spreading pneumonia, rheumatism, and fear.

However, when the First World War erupted, no one foresaw this. Both Germans and Britons were enthralled by it. Looking back, we now realize the foolishness of those days, but people are often subdued by the enthusiasm of their times. Ninety-three remarkably talented writers, artists, and scientists signed the "Aufruf an die Kulturwelt," enlisting cultural luminaries such as Goethe, Beethoven, and Kant in their call to support their beliefs, leveraging prestige to endorse the war. Even some eligible artists zealously joined the conflict to enrich their artistic lives. Initially supportive of the war, Thomas Mann nearly severed ties with his anti-war brother. Later, he gradually altered his perspective during the protracted battle.

The film "Joyeux Noël" is set against the backdrop of the Ypres campaign in the northern Belgian battlefield of World War I. Four battles left the place nearly obliterated, reduced to mere ruins, and 500,000 British soldiers ultimately rested in defense of the region. What initiated all this, and how did it end? These questions remain subjects of continuous debate and research, with over 7,000 books on why the war commenced. Irrespective of how it began, the depth of hatred among the involved parties was unquestionable. The film starts with children from three nations standing in front of a blackboard, reciting in their native tongues the "hatred education" they received: the French recalling the loss of Alsace and Lorraine in the Franco-Prussian War, chronicled in Alphonse Daudet's "The Last Class"; the British, gritting their teeth, deeming Germans as inhuman, wishing death upon their women and children to prevent future threats; the Germans, in a more straightforward manner, singling out the British as their only enemy.

Following significant losses among professional soldiers in Britain, amateur forces were established, eagerly sending adventurous youngsters to the battlefront. William and Jonathan, in the Scottish church depicted in the movie, were among these individuals. These students ventured onto the battlefield during their summer holidays, optimistically anticipating a return for the fall semester. However, 30% never came back, a death toll etched into the histories of Oxford and Cambridge Universities, shocking society. If they had heeded George Bernard Shaw's advice, perhaps the massive casualties and the tragic plight of British rural aristocratic families could have been avoided. In August 1941, George Bernard Shaw earnestly suggested in the "New Statesman" that soldiers from every army should shoot their officers and then return home. This 'jest' obviously didn't amuse British officials but irritated them, pondering how to arraign him before a military court. In Germany, the whole nation enthusiastically threw itself into the enthusiasm of war, with numerous ungraduated students falsifying their ages and entire classes enlisting for inspection. The mortality rate among German youths aged 18 to 22 reached 37%. Countless families were decimated, whether in England, France, Belgium, Russia, or Austria, as a new generation was sent to their deaths before coming of age. Unlike the shocked reactions in Britain, the Germans glorified this death as a noble sacrifice. Officers pushed soldiers to their deaths, uttering banal eulogies at their graves, later immortalized by nationalist poets, mythologizing such gifts.

Some Germans dubbed the first battle in Ypres as the "Massacre of the Innocents." This doesn't refer to the mass shipment of children to gas chambers as seen in World War II concentration camps but to nearly 100,000 newly arrived university students, inexperienced and untrained, marching toward death fueled by patriotism and officer commands. Those who managed to survive slowly discovered that the wartime fervor propagated by newspapers was vanishing. Their lives were reduced to killing and being killed. The initial shock of witnessing death had become numbness; decaying bodies had gradually become part of the scenery. Post-war, some admitted that if they saw an injured comrade being killed, they secretly rejoiced, as they didn't have to risk their lives to rescue them. They had become accustomed to advancing and retreating on battlefields strewn with corpses. Regarding the appalling practice of killing the wounded to prevent hindering the march, some acknowledged it, most combatant nations denied it, while the French remained silent.

Contrary to the post-war perspective, each country's wartime attitude was eerily similar—meticulously inciting hatred. At the war's onset, many Germans had lived in Britain for years; when they were summoned back home, their neighbors overnight turned into enemies. Besides serving their respective nations, there was no deep-seated animosity between them. To boost the soldiers' morale, the British government painted a picture of Germans as bloodthirsty savages. Conversely, the Germans propagated stories of how the British brutally murdered surrendered soldiers. Newspapers were predominantly under government control, filtering out articles portraying the harsh realities of war, filled with death and fear (even though they constituted the majority of submissions). Instead, they published empty rhetoric encouraging the fight. Every day, under their command, thousands queued up to meet their deaths. The more casualties a battle amassed, the more likely it would be recorded in history, etching their commanders into books. Many gained honor in this manner.

By the end of the First World War, over 9 million lives had been sacrificed to the flames of war. The prophecy of Edward Grey, the British Foreign Secretary, came true: "The lamps are going out all over Europe; we shall not see them lit again in our lifetime."

Miracle on Christmas Eve

Four months into the war since its outbreak in August 1914, the vibrant anthem of "Deutschland über alles" had ceased to echo. Exhausted and drained, no vigor was left to sing, for survival consumed every ounce of energy amidst relentless assaults. The no man's land on the Western Front was an abandoned wasteland, a forsaken terrain devoid of hope or reasons for gratitude.

The German and British forces, entrenched in their muddy trenches a mere hundred meters apart, endured the terror of relentless shelling and assaults by colossal rats. Irony prevailed as death bestowed a form of equality; Germans, British, French, and Belgians lay side by side, transcending ranks and nationalities, resembling fallen brothers. Though it was hard to anticipate what was to follow, there was a saying: "When a soldier sees himself in another soldier, hate disappears." With the disappearance of hate, the war lost its purpose.

No one could have anticipated what transpired on December 24, 1914. After countless deaths, a miracle unfolded - the first Christmas after the onset of war turned into a miraculous night of peace. History seldom bears witness to a Christmas night like this, neither before nor after. It began with a lone voice singing "Silent Night," permeating the somber atmosphere across Flanders. The melody melted the frozen hearts of war, thawing emotions cascading like surging rivers, washing over the parched earth. British soldiers across the way emerged from their trenches, a bold move considering they dared not risk exposing even a fraction of their heads, fearing sniper fire. Applause broke the silence as they illuminated the quiet night, peace streaking across the ground like a comet with a trailing golden tail, a sight seen once in millennia. When the final note faded, British soldiers cheered for an encore. They played bagpipes, harmonizing with the singing across the trenches, speaking and speaking different languages yet communicating flawlessly in the temple of music. The war-weary, who had grown tired of bullets and roaring cannons, were mesmerized by the music, their numb souls rekindled with enthusiasm. Christmas trees stood neatly aligned along the German trenches, and candles glimmered like gilded roses in the night, adorning the stage. Signal flares replaced fireworks, and a night endowed with understanding and love made everything shimmer.

After the songs ceased, people from different nations crowded the no man's land, exchanging gifts and food. Canned beef, plum pudding, cigarettes, chocolates - these exchanges were akin to a sumptuous feast for soldiers weary of their rations. Naturally, the French cautiously approached the gestures of goodwill from the Germans. Years of ingrained hatred and widespread propaganda have made it hard to erase the brutal image of the German savages overnight. Some hesitated to consume offerings from the Germans, only doing so after they took a bite. Many German soldiers spoke fluent English as they had lived in Britain, and similarly, Britons had learned German in high school. Across European schools, French, English, German, and Italian were commonly taught. They whispered to alert each other of minefields, and the Germans, knowing the British lacked Christmas trees, offered them one. A soldier joyfully remarked, "We're Saxons, you're Anglo-Saxons; why should we shoot at each other?" This simple logic voiced the sentiments of peace-loving individuals. That night, they conversed, laughed, and played bagpipes and harmonica - like an international fellowship. After such an evening, nobody wished to lift arms against these newfound friends the next day. This was not heaven, but their collective efforts forged their own paradise in preserving peace. Thus, we saw them burying comrades together, observing moments of silence, playing football, exchanging gifts and addresses, and hoping to send postcards like friends in the future.

The film depicted peace in one region, yet the consensus on Christmas night of 1914 spanned the entire front line, a movement too massive for higher authorities to stop. Some British soldiers had hoped to sing a few songs on Christmas night to relax the Germans and orchestrate five surprise attacks. Unexpectedly, when they began singing familiar tunes, they received an enthusiastic musical response from the Germans. The atmosphere suddenly turned amicable; no one desired to fight. They pledged, "Merry Christmas, tonight we don't shoot." A German soldier revealed his deep longing for his wife and children in distant London. These pleasant conversations lasted long; heart-to-heart chats proved more intoxicating than killing each other. It was rare, even in regular times, to witness such amicable relations between strangers from different nations. It was unimaginable that these people had been mortal enemies the day before. Walking together, they discovered the familiarity of being ordinary individuals on both sides, far more intimate than the cruel officers who ordered them to march to their deaths. There was a Belgian who wanted to send letters home but found his town occupied by German troops. He tossed his letter to the Germans across the way, asking them to post it. Surprisingly, they did and even brought back a reply. No official sources reported such incidents; they surfaced only after the war had ended.

However, some among the German forces found pleasure in killing and disregarded the notion of a "Christmas truce." Private Adolf Hitler expressed vehement anger over this absurd truce, outraged by the strong feelings between the German and British forces to refrain from firing and spend Christmas together. His companions disregarded his protest, deeming him too poisoned by hatred and irrationality. Some British, seizing the opportunity, fired upon the unarmed Germans, receiving reprimands from their superiors. One even apologized on behalf of his subordinates, and it was accepted. While some incidents disrupted peace, they failed to deter the ardent hope for peace among the majority. During the ceasefire, even sparrows flew back from all directions. It was the first time since the war began that soldiers saw animals other than rats in the trenches. They cleared the no man's land, filled grooves and shell holes, and erected rudimentary goalposts; tools of warfare from the past became toys for today's games.

On December 30, 1914, when Saxon soldiers received orders "to cease the peace activities," unable to defy commands, they wrote a note to the Hampshire soldiers from Britain: "Dear comrades, we regret to inform you that from now on, we're not allowed to meet you outside anymore, but we'll forever be your comrades. If we're forced to fire, we'll aim upwards." Nobody would forget that on Christmas night, as the German soldiers reluctantly returned to their trenches, the British lads played "Auld Lang Syne" on their bagpipes.

Eternal Hope

In the face of peace events in 1914, despite varying approaches among the rulers of nations, their stance remained uniformly resolute: "Not allowed." In Germany, the initial year saw punishments limited to confinement and prohibition of promotions. By the second year, those involved in peace activities faced the grim prospect of military tribunals, imprisonment, or even death sentences. The initially involved German troops were replaced by the stern Prussian regiment in the following year, who were reassigned to the vast Russian steppes, disappearing without a trace after that.

Events involving the participation of thousands of people are hard to keep under wraps. Several British newspapers prominently featured this news, while the Germans strictly controlled the topic from becoming a formal discussion. Despite each country having war correspondents, images depicting the gruesome extent of the war and injured soldiers were strictly prohibited from leaking. Newspapers published only approved photographs, and the actual pictures could only be unveiled to the world much later. Heated debates erupted in the homeland; anti-war advocates clashed with nationalists. However, no amount of discussion could grant them an understanding of the soldiers' predicaments amidst the inferno. Even soldiers' relatives found it impossible to communicate with them; upon their return home, they turned silent and gloomy. They agonized around those who didn't understand the front line's reality. Many "war-shattered" individuals underwent numerous surgeries in hospitals, replacing limbs and organs, clinging to life in isolation, unknown to even their kin. In an experiment conducted in Britain, only a third of the soldiers who had experienced war could lead an everyday life. Most suffered from "war neurosis," a psychological ailment. The echoes of warfare remained etched in their minds; the stench of war, the agonizing cries shattered by shells, and the sights of fallen comrades haunted them day and night.

The film portrays the German soldier Nikolaus Sprink, a renowned domestic singer, before deployment. His wife received special permission from the German Emperor to reunite with him on Christmas Eve. However, Sprink didn't find the joy his wife envisioned; he longed to return to the trenches to spend Christmas with his brothers-in-arms. He said, "You must confront death to realize how swiftly time slips away." His wife couldn't comprehend what had transpired in the past four months; her husband could never return to a semblance of everyday life. In the frontline war zone, everyone had only the past, no future. The fondest dreams were of reliving mundane days from before. Humanity gradually diminished in the soldiers, something the commanding officers were quite content to witness. This scenario evolved into what was later termed in World War II as "command emergency status," where soldiers were mere instruments of slaughter, following orders unthinkingly. Many, when facing trials, claimed innocence in their killings, asserting they were merely following orders. Rulers devised a set of so-called "war logic" to better prepare soldiers for combat, eradicating any semblance of sympathy: "Hell is always with someone else," endeavoring to sanctify their murderous deeds. As the First World War progressed, conditions deteriorated further; they openly violated the Geneva Conventions daily, killing prisoners of war and the wounded. Countless soldiers didn't die by bullets but from lack of aid. Many became barbaric, but some resisted, holding onto chivalry. Even in 1915, when the peace movement faced unprecedented resistance, some still emerged from the trenches on Christmas Eve, singing. Everyone gazed in astonishment at the German soldier who stood up, but instead of opening fire, the opposition waited until he finished his song. Peace was a fleeting moment, yet it persistently beckoned the human spirit.

Ultimately, the First World War culminated in Germany's defeat. Since 1927, Belgium has opened Menin Gate, where traffic halts every night at 8 PM, and vehicles detour. A bugler plays the Last Post under the triumphal arch, a nearly 10-minute ceremony commemorating the soldiers who once fell here. This ceremony continues today, with the only interruption during the German occupation from 1940 to 1944. People gather under the triumphal arch every night for a moment of silence. If such a harrowing outcome was to teach the world a lesson, it was seen at the outset of World War II, where survivors, once fervently charged soldiers of the First World War, marched with their descendants, holding up anti-war banners. After that, the United States engaged in several wars, yet only some nations were willing to partake.

In the film's conclusion, German soldiers sit on a train bound for the Russian steppes. Their officer crushes their harmonica, yet they hum the songs once owned by Christmas Eve. War may consume lives, but couldn't devour their yearning for peace, friendship, and love.