Author's Note: So this is my first attempt at writing a fan fiction. I'm normally not very good at writing stories, so I have to really hope it's alright. This one shot is based on the war poem called 'The Christmas Truce', by Carol Ann Duffy. I strongly recommend reading the poem (posted below) before reading this fic, but it's not actually required to understand what's going on.
Credits:
One Piece and it's characters belong to Eiichiro Oda.
'The Christmas Truce' poem was written by Carol Ann Duffy.
'The First Noel' is a traditional English Christmas Carol that has several authors, none of which are me.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story!
The Christmas Truce
Christmas Eve in the trenches of France,
the guns were quiet.
The dead lay still in No Man's Land –
Freddie, Franz, Friedrich, Frank . . .
The moon, like a medal, hung in the clear, cold sky.
Silver frost on barbed wire, strange tinsel,
sparkled and winked.
A boy from Stroud stared at a star
to meet his mother's eyesight there.
An owl swooped on a rat on the glove of a corpse.
In a copse of trees behind the lines,
a lone bird sang.
A soldier-poet noted it down – a robin
holding his winter ground –
then silence spread and touched each man like a hand.
Somebody kissed the gold of his ring;
a few lit pipes;
most, in their greatcoats, huddled,
waiting for sleep.
The liquid mud had hardened at last in the freeze.
But it was Christmas Eve; believe; belief
thrilled the night air,
where glittering rime on unburied sons
treasured their stiff hair.
The sharp, clean, midwinter smell held memory.
On watch, a rifleman scoured the terrain –
no sign of life,
no shadows, shots from snipers,
nowt to note or report.
The frozen, foreign fields were acres of pain.
Then flickering flames from the other side
danced in his eyes,
as Christmas Trees in their dozens shone,
candlelit on the parapets,
and they started to sing, all down the German lines.
Men who would drown in mud, be gassed, or shot,
or vaporised
by falling shells, or live to tell,
heard for the first time then –
Stille Nacht. Heilige Nacht. Alles schläft, einsam wacht …
Cariad, the song was a sudden bridge
from man to man;
a gift to the heart from home,
or childhood, some place shared …
When it was done, the British soldiers cheered.
A Scotsman started to bawl The First Noel
and all joined in,
till the Germans stood, seeing
across the divide,
the sprawled, mute shapes of those who had died.
All night, along the Western Front, they sang,
the enemies –
carols, hymns, folk songs, anthems,
in German, English, French;
each battalion choired in its grim trench.
So Christmas dawned, wrapped in mist,
to open itself
and offer the day like a gift
for Harry, Hugo, Hermann, Henry, Heinz …
with whistles, waves, cheers, shouts, laughs.
Frohe Weinachten, Tommy! Merry Christmas, Fritz!
A young Berliner,
brandishing schnapps,
was the first from his ditch to climb.
A Shropshire lad ran at him like a rhyme.
Then it was up and over, every man,
to shake the hand
of a foe as a friend,
or slap his back like a brother would;
exchanging gifts of biscuits, tea, Maconochie's stew,
Tickler's jam … for cognac, sausages, cigars,
beer, sauerkraut;
or chase six hares, who jumped
from a cabbage-patch, or find a ball
and make of a battleground a football pitch.
I showed him a picture of my wife.
Ich zeigte ihm
ein Foto meiner Frau.
Sie sei schön, sagte er.
He thought her beautiful, he said.
They buried the dead then, hacked spades
into hard earth
again and again, till a score of men
were at rest, identified, blessed.
Der Herr ist mein Hirt … my shepherd, I shall not want.
And all that marvellous, festive day and night,
they came and went,
the officers, the rank and file,
their fallen comrades side by side
beneath the makeshift crosses of midwinter graves …
… beneath the shivering, shy stars
and the pinned moon
and the yawn of History;
the high, bright bullets
which each man later only aimed at the sky.
It was Christmas Eve in the trenches of the Grand Line. The war had been raging for ten months now, and for many a soldier, tonight was the first night that they had been away from their family for Christmas. All men had ceased fire, and an eerie silence had settled over the battlefield. Victims of the previous struggle lay, cold and unmoving, in No Man's Land. The silvery moon, obscured slightly by the clouds, hung like a beacon in the starry night sky.
Tony Chopper, a boy from Drum who was no older than 15 years, sat on the rotting post of a broken barbed wire fence. He sighed in relief, as there was no gunfire to be heard tonight. As he stared into the darkness, a glitter in the distance caught his attention, and he watched in wonder as a flurry of pale pink petals blew by, caught by the bitter wind. "…A symbol of hope?", he muttered to no one in particular, and scurried off to join his comrades in the trenches, concealed by the shadows of the copse of trees nearby.
A lone figure watched him from the braches of a tree as he passed. Nico Robin was an unlikely soldier, recruited as a guerrilla for her deadly assassination skills, however somehow she had ended up following her friends to the front line on the battlefield. She had befriended little Chopper very quickly after meeting him in a base camp, and he hadn't left her side since. She found it oddly intriguing how the harsh reality of war had turned that nervous little boy into a man - a soldier no less - so quickly.
Robin peered out from her vantage point, looking and listening for any signs of movement. The corner of her mouth twitched as she watched an owl swoop down and snatch a rat from the glove of a corpse. It flew into the branches of the tree beside her, and she heard a faint crunch as the owl devoured its prey. She flipped through the pages of her note book and started to record the day's events. Robin believed that by keeping a log of the monstrosities taking place out on the Western Front, she could hopefully help to prevent wars in the future. To her, understanding history was one of the most powerful weapons any country, person or government could have.
The corners of her mouth turned up into a secretive smile as she heard another noise – one that was unexpected, but welcome. A lone bird was singing into the night, its voice carried on the wind behind her. "A Robin holding his winter ground", she wrote, then as an afterthought, added, "When it's Christmas Eve in the trenches of war, even hearing something as simple as a lonely bird singing is a wondrous change from the silence so thick you can feel it". The chilling breeze blew through the canopy of the trees, rustling the leaves slightly. Robin shivered, and closed her notebook.
Sliding down a muddy slope and into the deep trench, Chopper ran quickly onwards, trying to scope out his comrades in the stale, murky air. He bustled past nineteen year old Sanji of Baratie, who was cooking as much of a Christmas feast as he could with the limited ingredients. He always managed to make even the most awful freeze-dried or canned food taste decent, which, along with his friendly personality, made him a welcome friend for many a soldier.
Chopper went past Franky next, and gave him a quick wave as he passed by. Franky was the number one man to call if anything needed repairing in the trenches. Before he became a soldier in the war, he was a master woodworker from the city of Water 7, and could build anything from a bed to a boat. When he wasn't being called on to fix anything however, he was in charge of weapons, and he excelled at making sure everyone was equipped with enough fire-power to last them a lifetime.
Finally, Chopper managed to find Nami, curled up amongst the rubble in her greatcoat. She was wounded from a gunshot during the battles of the previous week, but she still did her best to predict the weather, and plot the land on which each battle would take place. She was an irreplaceable asset to their side. Chopper prided himself on being a skilled doctor, and he made sure to replace her bandages every day and give her some of the pain killers her had managed to save from the last raid. Although he had a soft spot for Nami, he would always do his best to heal anyone who still maintained a pulse; it was his duty, he was a doctor after all. And he hadn't lost anyone yet.
Meanwhile, all the way across No Man's Land and hidden by a blanket of fog, a tall, gaunt man lit a pipe as the heavy gold rings he wore nearly froze onto his fingers. His name was Brook, and he had been a musician before the army discovered him, lost and separated from his band members, at Thriller Bark. Before he knew it, he had been recruited. His violin rested on the ground next to him, for it was not the time or place for song. The absence of music was painful for Brook – but the silence of loneliness was always worse.
On watch, a sniper scoured the terrain. Usopp (alias Sogeking) was a master sharpshooter, the best in his class at the training grounds in the Syrup Village. There was only emptiness before him. There were no signs of life in No Man's Land. No shadows, no enemy movement, not even a gunshot in the distance. He tipped his hat down, and muttered, "no news is always good news, especially on Christmas", as he sat back in his chair, and lay his hand on his slingshot, a nervous looking expression on his usually smiling face.
Frost had finally settled on the dead, and their bodies glittered eerily in the darkness.
There were three that stood out in particular though, as each had been covered with a large flag that bore a symbol of skull and crossbones that shimmered and rippled with the faint gusts of wind. Those bodies belonged to Portgas D. Ace, Edward Newgate and Gol D. Roger – all brave souls that had died before their time. The flags were a symbol of respect from their troops, as they had all been Captains, and highly respected amongst the soldiers. Ace's flag was black, where Newgate's and Roger's were white, representative of the two opposing sides in the war.
The frozen, foreign fields bore witness to months of pain, and the men in the trenches mourned the deaths of their nakama as the snow began to fall.
But it was Christmas Eve; believe.
In the very centre of No Man's Land, a seventeen year old boy kneeled, alone.
The soldiers knew he was inconsolable.
His nakama had done all they could.
He was all but broken.
Monkey D. Luffy sobbed and shook over Ace's dead body. His own limbs and head were covered in bandages, and the dim candle next to him reflected every ounce of grief in his eyes. Of all the monstrosities he had witnessed in this war, nothing had prepared him for the moment when Ace, his sworn brother, had sacrificed himself to save his life. Amidst the toughest fight so far, there was no way either of them could have evaded the unidentified blast that could have been shot by either friend or foe. All it took was that instance, that split second, that blink of an eye, it was over for Ace.
It had been hours, and the tears had stopped a while ago. There was no way the boy could go on like this. This was war, not one of those games he used to play as a kid. And now that Ace was gone, Luffy had to take his position as Captain – he had nakama that he needed to protect.
Luffy's strangled sobbing suddenly became something more coherent, like a low muttering noise, as he thought about his life before the Grand Line, his memories of Ace, and his current position in this godforsaken war. No-one said it was going to be easy. And he had been taught not to look back.
"As long as you have something to fight for".
And if Luffy didn't have something to fight for, no one did. There was no reason for this war; it was pointless and stupid. The government was corrupt, and Luffy knew that all three of the late Captains had believed the government itself was the real enemy, not one another. He clutched his brother's hand to his chest one final time, and then covered him back over with the flag. Closing his weary eyes, Luffy reached down to pick his straw hat up off the ground, where it had been temporarily forgotten in his sorrow. Placing it back on his head, he stood up, head bowed in respect.
Just as he opened his eyes, Luffy felt a hand on his shoulder, but when he turned around, all he could see was the night before him. Only the moon witnessed the flaming man in the orange hat running into the distance, before being welcomed like an old friend by the night sky.
Taking his candle, Luffy turned, and walked back towards the fading light of the candle Brook had lit so that he could find his way. As he passed, the tall man leaned down to pick up his instrument, and blinked slowly as he watched a solitary tear leak out of the corner of Luffy's eye. "The first Noel…", said Luffy, his voice quiet and slightly shaky, but confident, with a note of determination.
As soon as he saw a spark of understanding in Brook's eyes, Luffy turned, took the candle by Brook's feet, and climbed down into the trenches. He ran through the mud, searching for the splash of green hair that signalled Zoro's position on the line. Luffy found him quickly, peering through the scope on a rifle at the top of the trench.
Zoro was Luffy's oldest friend in the war. He had rescued him from a firing squad who was preparing to execute him. Zoro wasn't even guilty – in fact, he was a strong and honest man, loyal and an indispensable friend to Luffy. Before the war, he had been a master kendo instructor, and now, at only nineteen years of age, he had decided to fight in an attempt to become the best swordsman in the world. His three swords were his greatest love, and he manipulated them as easily as a shark glides through still water. The two boys had been through thick and thin together, and shared a strong bond.
Climbing up beside him, Luffy whispered in his friend's ear. Zoro had never been a man of many words, so he didn't respond immediately, but when he did, it was by turning slowly towards him, his normally solemn face graced with a small smile. He gripped Luffy's shoulder in his big hand, and shook him slowly back and forth in a comforting gesture. Then, he took one of the candles from Luffy's hand, stood up, and started walking along the top of the trench. Luffy watched him disappear into the black, until only a small speck of light could be seen. After a while, the light dipped down, and suddenly there were two little lights, sparkling in the darkness. After another thirty seconds or so, a third light appeared in the distance. Luffy smiled softly when he heard voices a little way off, and sure enough, two lanterns were lit, and he watch them bob up and down as the soldiers carried them back and forth along the trench, in Luffy's noble effort to light up the battlefront, shining, candlelit on the parapets.
It was then that, in a low voice, Luffy started to sing.
"The First Noel, the Angels did say
Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay".
Over to his left, he heard the first shrill note of Brook's violin join in with his singing, and when he looked to his right, he could see the torches blazing up on Usopp's watch tower. The deep voice of Zoro joined Luffy in singing the next part of the verse, as did Usopp's slightly quieter tone.
"In fields where they lay keeping their sheep
On a cold winter's night that was so deep".
By the time they got to the chorus, every one of Luffy's soldiers within earshot was singing loudly and with great spirit.
"Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!"
Over at the opposite trench, Chopper went deathly quiet as he strained to listen.
"What's that!?", he asked Nami fervently. "Can't you hear it?".
"Huh?", questioned a sleepy Nami. Although she was recovering well, she became tired more quickly each night.
Suddenly, a dark object loomed over the top of the trench. Chopper squeaked and scurried backwards. A small giggle came from the object, and it offered out a hand. "Come and see".
"Oh! It's just you Robin! It's okay Nami, you're all done with your bandaging, you can go back to sleep now. You nearly gave me a heart attack Robin, don't sneak up on me like that", he grumbled as he took her hand, and she hauled him out of the pit and onto the field with surprising strength.
"I can hear it too", she said simply, gesturing across No Man's Land to the parapets on the other side. Chopper blinked and nearly stumbled backwards – he couldn't believe what his eyes and ears were telling him. Tiny flames were lighting up the trenches across the battlefield, and a beautiful, melancholy song was carried to him on the wind. Accompanied by a lone violin, the soldiers on the other side were singing out to them, and it was getting louder with each word. A short, sudden sob left him, and he fell to his knees.
"Minna!", he called. "Everyone, get up here now!".
"What, why? Isn't it dangerous?", one man questioned nervously.
"It's Christmas", replied Chopper. "Just trust me".
Evidently, the soldiers were not convinced, as no one made a move to leave the safety of the dugout. It was then that the replacement captain, Sanji, weaved through them all and climbed straight up the ladder to stand next to Chopper and Robin in the warzone, his deep blue eyes lighting up in wonder.
"They looked up and saw a star
Shining in the East beyond them far."
Taking their Captain's lead, the soldiers slowly and cautiously emerged from the trenches, climbing ladders and scaling the dirt. Franky came too through the crowd of men, carrying Nami in his strong arms. There were tears streaming down his face.
"And to the earth it gave great light
And so it continued both day and night.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!"
Nami had the brightest smile on her face that any of them had seen since she was injured, and although Sanji was swooning over her hopelessly, he was the only one to notice that Robin had disappeared at some point in the rush of people. Trusting her good heart, Sanji knew what he had to do, so he put his arm around Chopper, nodded to anyone who happened to be looking, and began to harmonize his own voice in with the invisible choir.
"And by the light of that same star
Three Wise men came from country far
To seek for a King was their intent
And to follow the star wherever it went."
Chopper, Franky, the rest of the soldiers, and even the tired Nami joined in with the chorus.
"Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!"
The voices of hundreds echoed through the night. Men who would later be gassed, shot, or vaporised by falling shells, and only some of them would live to tell. It didn't matter. What mattered was right in front of them – what was happening now. And it was beautiful. The song was drawing to a close. Sanji looked around, and sure enough, Robin had joined the line and was singing along with the rest of them. He smiled brightly at her, and she returned the gesture. Sanji turned back to face the tiny lights in the distance, chuckling a little to himself as he thought of the lanterns, lamps and candles burning brightly behind him, a hundred metres in each direction along his trench. He would need to cook Robin something extra special later.
Luffy's hand had been resting on Zoro's shoulder since he had joined him at the front of the troop. Seeing the lights on the other side of No Man's Land; hearing the jovial singing of hundreds of tired and grieving soldiers just like him, made him smile wider than he had since the start of the war. He knew this would have made the Ace happiest – and it was Christmas after all. The perfect gift.
Luffy smiled happily at Usopp when he stood on his left side, took off his hat, and continued to sing proudly next to his captain. Brook stood a short way in front of them, playing his violin more passionately than ever before.
Just before the final verse, there was a slight pause in the singing, and Brook filled the silence with the most magnificent solo any of the soldiers had ever heard. With tears glistening in his eyes, Brook bowed his head for the last part of the song, his own sign of respect for the fallen soldiers.
"Then let us all with one accord
Sing praises to our heavenly Lord
That hath made Heaven and earth of nought
And with his blood mankind has bought.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!"
When it was done, all men jumped and cheered with joy. Zoro gave Usopp a friendly punch on his arm, as thanks for the teamwork in lighting up the Western Front. Luffy ran to thank Brook for his amazing musical accompaniment. Sanji took Nami's hand, kissed it gently, and helped her stand as the soldiers behind them celebrated. Franky grabbed Robin and pulled her into a tight hug, burying his nose in her hair. Chopper had been seized by a couple of men from the crowd and was been thrown into the air in celebration, giggling wildly.
Soon, the roar of jubilant men died down on both sides, and each and every one of them stood and looked across the divide. They gazed upon bodies of their fallen comrades, the sprawled, silent shapes of those who had died. Their brothers, fathers, friends, and even some sisters lay unmoving in the hardened mud.
All night, along the Grand Line they sang, bawling out carols, hymns, folk songs and odes. Although some returned to the trenches, most sat atop the parapets, singing endlessly as they gazed at the glow in the distance.
Soon dawn began to raise its weary head. Christmas on the battlefield had arrived wrapped in mist, to open itself and offer the day like a gift, for Luffy, Brook, Usopp, Zoro, Nami, Robin, Sanji, Chopper and Franky… with whistles and shouts, waves, cheers and laughs.
"Merry Christmas, Usopp!".
"Merry Christmas, Nami!".
The young swordsman, Zoro, was the first to break from his position. He ran across the worn field, brandishing a bottle of sake from his home in Shimotsuki Village. He was met halfway by Sanji of Baratie who clutched a bottle of spiced rum. Panting, they smiled widely at each other.
"Nice to meet you, Curly-brow! Merry Christmas", Zoro puffed out, chuckling.
"Oi oi! Merry Christmas to you too, stupid Marimo", Sanji replied with a smirk on his lips.
Without another thought, the two men exchanged bottles, shouted "Kanpai!", and downed the foreign alcohol with great fervour, before slapping each other on the back, and pressing their foreheads together in challenge. For the two strangers, it was a sign of peace, and mateship.
Then it was up and over, every man scrambling out of the ditches to run to one another as though they were being reunited with a long lost family member or friend. They shook hands, hugged, hi-fived, ruffled each other's hair and shouted and waved. It was Nami who emerged with an armful of oranges, and she walked slowly over to present them to Luffy, who smiled and thanked her gratefully. He shared them amongst the mingling soldiers, but not before taking a few for himself. Franky, Brook and Robin were having a light hearted conversation, while Chopper went with his new friend, Usopp, to get a gift as thanks to Nami for the oranges.
Sanji announced he was cooking as much of a feast as he could, and Luffy suggested that his men Patty and Carne assist him. Zoro went too – he and the curly-chef were in the middle of an argument about swords and savate. Usopp and Chopper soon returned – Chopper with his arms full of spare bandages Usopp had given him for the wounded, while the sniper himself carried bottles and jars of spices and sauces to give to Sanji for his cooking.
The celebration continued throughout the day. Sanji, with the assistance of Patty and Carne, provided spectacularly tasting food, while Brook and Franky entertained everyone with their music. Nami and Robin danced together nearby, laughing. Usopp showed Franky a picture of his girlfriend back home, Kaya. "She's absolutely beautiful", said the large man, smiling warmly. Chopper was busy patching up anyone who's injuries hadn't been properly treated, and when Luffy found Usopp's makeshift ball, made out of scraps of leather and string, he, Zoro and Sanji made a football pitch of a battleground.
There were no foes now, only friends, but the party died down in the afternoon, when Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Robin, Franky, Brook, Chopper, Nami and Usopp stood upon the parapets. Over three hundred men stood before them, waiting for their orders.
"My brothers and sisters, I have a request that I would like to make today", said Luffy, loud and determined.
"I would like you to cooperate with me to bury our fallen comrades, side by side, so they are not forgotten in this time of great sorrow. Please, do I have your help?"
"Yes Captain!", three hundred people shouted in unison, fists shooting into the air and feet stamping on the hard ground.
"Thank-you, I owe a great deal to you all. Nami said that the plan is; Franky and Usopp will be building crosses over in the far trench. Nami and Brook will help paint and place the crosses. Chopper has agreed to collect flowers to place where each man rests. Robin will be identifying and recording the names of each and every woman or man before they are put in their final resting place. Sanji, Zoro and I will be leading teams in digging the graves."
"It's Christmas time", boomed Zoro, "And we want this done properly. These are our family we're putting to rest. Each cross will be painted white – a symbol of hope and peace, and each will be emblazoned with the customary skull and crossbones as a sign of respect for what they have accomplished in this dark time."
"Let's get to work!", finished Sanji.
"Yes Sir!"
"Yes Captain!"
"Right away Sir!"
"Ai, Captain!"
They buried the dead, hacked spades into frozen earth again and again. Sweat ran down their faces, making lines through the mud that marred their skin. Sanji spotted a man whose hands had begun to bleed but was doing his utmost to continue shovelling anyways. The chef hailed him, told him that he would take over, and then called for Chopper to bandage the poor man up. Brook, Franky and Usopp sung carols while they worked. With the help of Zoro, Robin was able to identify every single soldier.
She comforted him when it was time to put Kuina, his friend since childhood, to rest. Kuina was the strongest woman he had ever known, and he knew her death had not been in vain. Robin held his hand and Nami said a small prayer as Luffy lowered Kuina's body gently into the grave. Sanji stood close by Zoro's side, smoking a cigarette, as she was covered over with earth, and Chopper laid flowers next to her cross.
The same ritual was had, but on a larger scale, for Newgate, Roger and Ace, the final three to be buried. Every single one of the three hundred soldiers gathered in a circle around the aligned graves. Tears fell freely down Luffy's face as he lowered his brother's body, wrapped in the flag, to the bottom of the pit. Sanji let out a sob when Edward Newgate rested in his own grave, and even the stoic Zoro's bottom lip trembled when he stood back after lying Roger in his final resting place.
Six soldiers stepped in and began to carefully shovel the fresh earth into the graves.
Franky was bawling off to the side, while Nami was sobbing hopelessly, being comforted by Robin. A crying Usopp help the hand of little Chopper, who wept openly as he laid flowers with pale pink petals next to each man. Brook put in the crosses; one adorned with Newgate's coat, the second with Ace's hat, and finally, tied Roger's flag around the top of the third cross. He was sniffling the whole time.
Only then did Luffy take off his trademark straw hat. The tears reflected off his face as he looked to the blue evening sky, and raised his left arm in the air, revealing a painted black cross – a symbol that every one of the soldiers standing on that frozen battlefield possessed on their left wrists, to signify that they were nakama, and although they would keep fighting for a better future, they refused to hurt their friends.
Zoro was the next to raise his arm, followed by Sanji, Nami, Chopper, Usopp, Franky, Brook, Robin, and every man, woman and child in that field. Over three hundred soldiers stood that evening, faces pointed toward the waning moon, as they gave their respects to those who would no longer be wearied by age.
They will be remembered.
And all that marvellous, festive day and night, the soldiers came and went. The Captains, officers, the ranks and file. With their fallen comrades side by side beneath the makeshift white crosses of midwinter graves. The shivering stars watched over them, and the shy moon, and the yawn of history; the high, bright bullets,
which each man later only aimed at the sky.
The End.