“Orders to move at 11… Set out. Hot. Packs like lead down the same side of river. Many fell out. Lunch on way. Toward Toul… Stayed at night at barracks built in 1904… Up awful hill to get there. Good beds. Canned supper by moonlight. Bathed feet. Good sleep.” –Private Elmore B. Stone, diary, August 21, 1918
Nothing is romantic about canned supper in a war, except the bright light from the moon. The only other romantic elements of Elmore’s war diary are references to the young female friends who sent him letters, cards, and packages.
Few living people remain who knew Elmore Stone or the existence of his World War I diary. Sixteen months after United States declared war on April 6, 1917, Elmore wrote daily entries in his small, five-year diary during training at boot camp and then in Europe serving with the American Expeditionary Forces (AEF).
I am writing a biography of great Uncle Elmore. I met him as a young boy and several more times as my brothers and I grew up into adulthood. I don’t remember hearing about his World War I service in Europe so I never asked him questions about his fourteen months in the U. S. Army.
The above quote is from his second week in France with the 51st New York Pioneer Infantry Regiment. I started reading diary in the Fall of 2018 when the hundredth anniversary of the signing of the Armistice and the end of fighting approached—November 11. Elmore’s diary states, “Laid around. Set up stoves in our shed. Nice day. Explored a little well-kept cemetery nearby. Armistice signed. Firing continued until 11 a.m. and ceased abruptly. Quietness noticeable.”
My first reaction in reading the November 11 entry was disappointment. I wanted more information, but a diary entry can contain only so much information. A second thought entered my mind, “Wow. His entry confirms what other people wrote about the quietness that followed the cessation of the artillery barrages by the opposing armies. Quietness is one kind of peace.
Elmore’s December 25 entry is longer because he wrote between the lines, “Snow fell in early morning. Reveille and sports called off because of snow and mud. Snow gone by night. Sat around. Visited. Tree lit at 5. They sang Christmas songs. Served cakes. Two younger girls to show put on by our boys. With me. Ate when we came back. Excellent meals all day. Oatmeal, fritters, syrup, bread, coffee for breakfast. Steak, mashed potatoes, etc. for dinner [lunch]. Likewise good at night.”
Elmore and his buddies awoke to a white Christmas for most of the day. They did little on the lazy day for the holiday. Tree lighting, singing, and good food filled some of the day. Elmore loved good food and he didn’t receive as much of it as he wanted at most meals. The two girls referred to were new friends and daughters of the family with whom Elmore lived. U. S. soldiers were billeted with German families. He grew close to his temporary family. He knew enough German to talk with them and his proficiency increased the longer he lived with them.
A simplicity permeates Elmore’s brief summary of his one and only Christmas in Germany. Two cultures, American and German, mixed on that day. He socialized, joined in holiday customs of lighting a tree, singing carols, and eating. It is reported that the sixteenth century German reformer Martin Luther played a part in creating the lighting of Christmas trees.
I’ve enjoyed two Christmas events this year. My wife and I saw the new movie The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. The way it told the familiar story of Jesus’ birth in a pageant format highlighted two significant truths. Many people don’t think they are worthy of astounding gift God’s forgiving love. On the other hand, many church people are too conceited to welcome the unworthy into their circles of friends. The miracle of Christmas occurs when both kinds of people learn to appreciate the fact that God’s gift isn’t based on merit nor withheld based on unworthiness. It is simply God’s free choice for all people. When this truth dawns on both kinds unworthy, lives are changed by God’s love in Christ.
The second event that moved me to tears, as did the movie, is the musical All Is Calm performed at a local theatre. The all-male cast re-enacted the December 25, 1914, fraternizing of German and British soldiers on a battlefield. The show is performed with only one scene—a simple battlefield with smoke pervading the stage to enhance the visual effect of exploded munitions and fog. Carols are song in English and German. The script uses the words of participants in the actual event to explain the occasion and the men’s reactions. The burial service of German and British soldiers turned the show into a very somber remembrance of the deceased soldiers one hundred and six years later. Sadly, the peace and quiet of that Christmas quickly turned to fighting again for another four long years without another Christmas Day ceasefire.
The show raises the unsettling question of how can military opponents worship the same Jesus Christ of whom they call the Prince of Peace? One answer is hidden in Jesus’ decision not to fight to prove his opponents wrong. Instead, he chose to die for the sins of all the world. The ancient prophet declared, “He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5). The peace we long for is elusive, but Christ brought it to us through his sufferings and death. Who will suffer today as a gift to our peace Giver so his peace will last longer than a pageant or one day celebration?