SO WE WERE TALKING ABOUT HOW THE GERMANS AND THE ALLIES PLAYED SOCCER (FOOTBALL) IN NO MANS LAND (WHERE YOU WOULD BASICALLY GET KILLED IMMEDIATELY WHEN SHOTS WERE BEING FIRED) IN WWI DURING CHRISTMAS AND I WAS LIKE 'HANS HUBERMANN MUST HAVE DONE THAT!' SO THAT'S WHERE I GOT THE INSPIRATION!
HANS POV
It was Christmas and we were still in the trenches. In my time here, I had caught the flu, my feet were pruned and I had the ugliest beard ever know to history.
But, we still tried to celebrate.
No one wanted to attack each other on Christmas, so we weren't battling with the Allies.
Then, someone had the genius idea to play soccer (football)... In No Mans Land.
So, someone brought a deflated ball out of their bag and some hopped out of the miserable trench.
We set up goals with rocks and a few charred sticks marked field.
Right before we were about to play, we heard some footsteps. Al of us turned, surprised, to see some of the Allies soldiers coming towards us.
"Nous veinons jouer avec vous?" a French soldier asked.
"What did he say?" someone called out.
"They want to play with us!" called out a different person. A few mutters rippled through us.
"Let them play! It's Christmas!" shouted Erik Vandenburg.
"Yeah!" I seconded.
The Allies soldiers cheered and came onto the field.
"Okay, what about Germans vs. Allies?" someone said. It was repeated in French and English.
People separated onto the two sides of the field.
"Un, zwei, three!" counted a person apparently who knew what one, two and three were in French, English and German.
We all ran into positions as the ball was kicked. I dashed after it and felt the wind on my face. I smelled ashes and Earth. I felt like a little boy playing soccer (football) on the street, again.
When the game finally ended, we had won 3-2.
"Hey! Why don't we exchange gifts?" said a young American.
Everyone muttered in agreement after the mans words were translated.
Everyone got up and ran back to the trenches. We got cigarettes, which I was very happy to roll for everyone, wine, and even small candies. A lot of men brought out pictures of their families. I pulled out a picture of Rosa, who was currently a nurse near Alsace and Lorraine. I looked at it as I ran back to No Mans Land. I missed her sharp tongue. I often dreamed about her yelling at me to 'move my lazy ass or she would die of old age waiting for me to come eat dinner'.
I smiled at the memory.
A Canadian man gave me a bit of wine and a small piece of salt water taffy.
"Merci," I said, in terrible French, as I handed him a few cigarettes.
"Danke," the man said, in equally terrible German.
He held out a picture of himself standing with a young woman.
"Ma petite amis. Mais, elle est mort," he said, sadly, making a heart shape with his hands, then making a motion of slashing his throat.
I took out the picture of Rosa. "My wife," I said, making the heart shape.
"Hans Hubermann," I said, pointing to myself.
"John Mccrae," he said, pointing to himself.
A tune floated over our heads. I listened as more people began to sing. It was "Silent Night".
"Silent Night..."
"Silencieux Nuit..."
"Still Nacht..."
We sang like that until our commanders came and yelled at us for 'fraternizing with the enemy'.
That didn't keep us all from yelling...
"Goodbye!"
"A Bientôt!"
"Auf Wiedersehen!"
As I slept, I thought about how I would have to fight all of the Allies men. I wondered what would become of John Mccrae and the others that I had met.
I realized neither side was 'good' or 'bad'. We were all the same.
DOES ANYONE KNOW WHO JOHN MCCRAE WAS? (YES, HE WAS REAL!) SORRY IF I GOT ANY GERMAN TERRIBLY WRONG! REVIEWS PLEASE! STAY PIEFACEINGLY!