A/N: This is a piece I originally wrote for a fanbook project. Unfortunately, due to a lack of submissions and orders, we were not able to print the book, so I am posting it here. The theme was A Christmas Carol and each featured character in the fanbook had a fic and artwork for a Christmas Past, Present, and Future. This is Germany's Christmas Past.

24/12/1914

Ludwig pulled the oilcloth more tightly around his body, shielding his cigarette as he lit it with hands that shook from the cold. The icy rain which had been pouring down the entire day was starting to lighten up, but the dampness was still heavy in the air. His fellow German soldiers were all huddled, pressed against the thick mud walls of their hastily-dug trench, trying in vain to keep dry. It was no use. Water quickly gathered in the bottom of the trenches and soaked through the walls. Everybody was tired, wet, and dirty, but hope for victory in the New Year kept the men going.

A few minutes later, Ludwig's cigarette had burned all the way to the filter and he tossed it unceremoniously in the growing lake at the bottom of the trench. After a few minutes of searching through his pockets, he swore under his breath.

"Verdammt."

"Last one, Lieutenant?"

He looked over at a cheerful private, sitting nearly a meter away from him. The solider reached into his own pocket and fished out a cigarette before offering it to his officer.

"Take it, sir," he added. "My mother sent me more for Christmas."

"Ah, danke," Ludwig said before accepting it. He took a long draw on the cigarette before looking around at the rest of the soldiers. Though their situation was miserable, morale had been improving as Christmas drew nearer. Hope grew in the soldiers and civilians alike as the holiday approached; his people's good cheer resonated in the personification of their country. Ludwig hadn't felt so close to normal since the Archduke's assassination. He was enjoying this respite from the anger and fear that normally swamped him and his citizens.

By the time night fell, the rain had dried up completely and the mood amongst the soldiers continued to rise. The good weather carried over through the night and sun finally shined on them as dawn broke on Christmas Eve for the first time in weeks. Gifts had been trickling into the trenches as the holiday drew nearer, and as Christmas drew closer, the gifts began to flow, not only arriving from family and from the local villagers, but from Kaiser Wilhelm II himself. For the soldiers, the State sent fine, carved pipes for the privates and boxes of cigars that were split between the officers and NCOs. With his rank, Ludwig received half a dozen of them and tucked the cigars away in his pockets; he wasn't overly fond of cigars. Cigarettes were good enough.

To Ludwig's immense surprise, a weather-beaten package arrived for him, post-marked from Prussia. His surprise grew when he unwrapped the package and found a carton of cigarettes and a new pair of high-quality leather gloves. Gratefully, he slipped off his worn military-issued gloves before replacing them with the new, warmer ones. Bundled with the gloves were several crumpled sheets of paper covered with a scrawl that he easily recognized as that of his brother's. The letter mostly consisted of Gilbert boasting about his exploits in the war. The closing line of the letter, warning him to keep warm and dry, was scrawled even more messily than the rest of the letter, as if Gilbert had been embarrassed of writing it and had gotten it over with at the last minute, as quickly as he could.

The day passed quietly. It felt strange to be relaxing on the front of a war. Though his men were simply enjoying their improved rations, Ludwig felt on edge. It was hard to shake the mindset of war that he had been living with for the last several months. The current peace felt strange to one who had been geared for war for so long. Eventually though, Ludwig was lulled into a light doze. By the time a terrified private shook him awake, twilight had already descended.

"Lieutenant!" the young Private Weiß cried out when he realized Ludwig had woken. "Forgive me, sir, but they're asking for a cease-fire! What should we do?"

Ludwig woke in a hurry.

"'Cease-fire'?" he questioned, raising himself from the mud ledge upon which he had been resting.

"Die Engländer!" Weiß clarified. "They're asking for a cease-fire."

Ludwig heaved himself off of his perch and followed Weiß to the firing step, where another solider was straining to hear the badly-pronounced German cries of the English soldiers. There were only forty meters between the enemy's trenches and their own, making it difficult, though not impossible, to communicate with the English. Though their words were muffled by distance, they were clear enough, calling for a cease-fire.

"Lieutenant, what should we do?" his men repeated. Ludwig strained to hear the mangled German, and called out to them, in accented English, to repeat themselves. Whoever was shouting switched to English, and Ludwig had to struggle to remember as much of the language as he could. After a few repetitions, he drew back in shock.

"They want to sing Christmas carols?"

"Was?" his subordinates cried out. Ludwig shook his head, certain that he had mistranslated. Again, he called for them to repeat themselves but the absurd request remained the same. The English soldiers were calling for a temporary truce so that they could sing Christmas carols. Ludwig was at a loss of what to do.

"Should we let them?" Weiß asked, hesitantly, the first to break the silence that had descended on the three Germans.

"Why not?" the other soldier added eagerly. Ludwig stared at them both. They weren't seriously considering the English request, were they? "It won't hurt anyone. And it is Christmas."

"Lieutenant?" Weiß asked, looking over at Ludwig hopefully. "Can we let them?"

The answer on the tip of Ludwig's tongue was "no". They were grown men at war, they didn't have the luxury to be allowing their enemies to make ridiculous demands merely because it was a holiday. But both Weiß and the other solder were looking at him with such hope in their eyes. Ludwig was reminded of how young they were. He had lived for centuries already, but these boys had barely lived twenty years. Even though in the few months of service they had given to their country they had already seen countless horrors, they still were only boys. Ludwig didn't have the heart to deny them when they looked at him with such hopeful eyes.

"Fine," he said. Joyfully, Weiß called out an affirmative answer to the English, who shouted back that as nineteen hundred hours they would begin.

Word quickly spread of the cease-fire and caroling throughout the German trench. As nineteen hundred hours drew closer, all of the German soldiers crowded in the sections of the trench that were the closest to the enemy, all eager to hear if the English were truly going to sing on a battlefield. Precisely at nineteen hundred hours, it began.

"Oh, come, all ye faithful,

Joyful and triumphant!

O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem!"

The English were out of key, and the soldiers all seemed to sing at a slightly different pace. Yet when they had finished, the German troops applauded them as if they were the Vienna Boys Choir. After that, the English began another carol. Ludwig watched his soldiers, incredulously. He had seen firsthand the amount of blood lust they could harbor. It was shocking to see them enjoying something as simple and innocent as a Christmas carol. The sound of music was comforting, even to Ludwig. It was strangely beautiful to hear a song sung so simply in so desolate a place. The carols continued for an hour, until the English announced that they were done by one cocky soldier who popped up over the trench and took a bow. Instead of shooting, the Germans simply laughed.

"Let's sing one of our own!" somebody suggested. The rest of the soldiers responded eagerly and they quickly began a German carol.

"O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum,

Wie treu sind deine Blätter!

Du grünst nicht nur, zur Sommerzeit!"

After the German soldiers had finished singing, they were treated to English applause as enthusiastic as their own had been. This, too, surprised Ludwig, that both sides fighting such a bloody war could suddenly and completely break off the fighting and show each other such respect. It warmed his heart and that of all of his soldiers; he could see it. That night, they slept with a peace they hadn't known in a long time.

By the time the sun rose on Christmas Day, the peaceful feeling amongst the soldiers had not weakened. If anything, it had strengthened; the experience had touched most of the men, even if but in the smallest of ways. The goodwill permeating the air brightened the otherwise bleak trench. The happy sounds of a celebration could be heard from the English trenches, mixing in with their own cheerful racket. It wasn't until partway through the morning that the atmosphere and doubled alcohol rations got to one of the German soldiers.

"Feuereinstellung!"

Everybody's head turned to stare at the soldier who had quite suddenly climbed up and was halfway out of the trench. Ludwig immediately jumped up, as did several other men who all rushed toward the young man and tried to pull him back in. He wriggled free and waved frantically toward the enemy's side.

"Feuereinstellung!" he cried out again, before switching to a rusty, barely-recognizable form of English. "Cease-fire! Want to get brother's body!" By this point, despite the shouts of his fellow Germans to return to the relative safety of the trench, the soldier had already scrambled out of the trench and stood, completely vulnerable, to the English machine guns.

They didn't fire.

The soldier took a few unsure steps forward, and when the guns remained quiet, strode forward as he checked the bodies lying in the mud for his brother, who had been killed days before. When several minutes had passed and it was clear that the English had silently granted the young man's request, another soldier heaved himself over the edge of the trench and began aiding his friend in his search and the subsequent burial. An English soldier slunk out from his own trench and soon men from both sides were braving the no man's land to recover and bury their fallen dead. Compelled by the will of his people, Ludwig reluctantly joined them.

Though their work was grim, the men met over their fallen enemies and comrades and conversations were struck up, simple in nature. Ludwig was astounded at the affable nature of these meetings as his men and their enemy buried the bodies of their fallen brothers together. These men, who but three days ago had been shooting at each other and determined to kill, were now pleasantly conversing, sharing stories of their families at home. Ludwig had stepped back a bit to better observe the exchanges when a familiar voice sounded from behind him.

"Bloody hell, so you're here, too."

Ludwig turned around, hardly believing his own eyes as a blond English soldier with unfortunate eyebrows approached him.

"Großbritannien," he said, surprised to see another nation so close to him.

"'Captain' will do just fine," England muttered before coming to a stop in front of Ludwig, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers. "Wouldn't want the humans to hear."

The two nations stood together awkwardly, quietly observing their soldiers as they continued to mill together, their dead retrieved, but their curiosity in the lives of their enemies roused. A former barber had set up a small area in which he was giving out free haircuts to both sides. Others were discussing their favorite brands of tobacco. Others recalled their wives and fiancées left at home. It was remarkable how well they were getting along.

"We really should put a stop to this," England commented.

"Yes," Ludwig agreed. "We do have orders."

And yet the two nations remained still, though late the night before they had received a missive from their higher-ranked officials strictly prohibiting any more truces. A comfortable mood had descended on the battlefield. The soldiers were exchanging gifts and souvenirs, joking and laughing. England sighed, then dug in his coat pocket and removed a small, engraved box.

"Take one," he said stiffly before offering the opened box to Ludwig. His mouth watered at the sight of the butterscotch and chocolates nestled in with tobacco and a card bearing the face of one of England's young royals.

"Danke schön," Ludwig said gratefully before taking a piece of the candy and revealing a few strange rectangles of thick paper underneath.

"What is this?" he asked. England's face instantly took on a ruddy hue as he realized what Ludwig was asking about.

"They're baseball cards," he muttered in embarrassment. Ludwig took a closer look at the cards: they were written in English, and had photographs of men in strange uniforms with short sleeves and calf-length trousers, with the word "Yankees" embroidered on the chest. He looked back up at England to see a strange, tender look on the other nation's face.

"Alfred sent them to me for Christmas," he explained, the flush on his face growing darker. "The daft fool. What on earth did he think I could possibly use these for?"

Ludwig was startled to hear the casual use of America's human name, but decided not to question it. Instead, he returned the cards and the little box to England, who immediately placed them in his left breast pocket. Moved by England's generosity and that which he witnessed as his soldiers mixed happily with the English, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the cigars that he had tucked away the day before. Ludwig offered a few to England, who begrudgingly accepted them, then immediately produced a match and lit one. Ludwig lit his own cigarette and resumed watching his soldiers. One of the Englishmen had managed to produce a football, and a casual game had sprung up. He and England watched the men play in a comfortable silence. It felt good to be a peace, if only for a little while.

As the sun began to set, both sides knew that this time was coming to a close. The soldiers trickled back to their posts in the trenches until the no man's land was once again deserted. Once all of the soldiers were accounted for in the trenches, a shot was heard from the English side. The war had begun once again.

In the years that followed, Ludwig would remember all of the horrors that accompanied war, horrors that haunted him for quite some time afterward. Grim, bloody battles, poisonous gasses that were blown by the wind back to their side, and the anguished cries and pains as his country was torn apart. The memory of that Christmas, however, remained clear in his mind. It was one of the few pleasant memories he was sure he would ever have from war. He cherished those few hours of peace and held them dear in his heart. And he knew that throughout his men who had survived the war, the feeling was mutual.

More information about the Christmas Truce of 1914 can be found here: http:/ www. firstworldwar. com/ features/ christmastruce. htm

Edit: Also, please enjoy this piece of APH artwork with the same theme that I found: http:/ sora-ko. deviantart. com/ art/ APH- Silent- Night- 107694070

Edit#2: Some more gorgeous APH art of the Christmas Truce found on deviantart: http:/ spwinkles. deviantart. com/ art/Peace -in- No- Man- s- Land- 188607637