Classic rock one shots and imagines [requests closed]

George Harrison #1 (part one)

Hello my loves!

Quick note here, this is in third person, there will be two parts. I guess technically this is a two-shot instead of a one shot because of the two parts, but hey, enjoy anyway!

Some WWI knowledge will definitely help, but any questions you have I will gladly answer, all you have to do is ask ❤

~~~~~~~~~

The morning of December twenty-fourth brought a hard frost to Wipers. The sky was clear and the sun shone overhead, giving the uneven countryside a hazy glow. Charlie and George walked along the street, following other soldiers that were returning to the front lines. The snow crunched heavily under their feet, adding to the layered footprints on the ground.

"It's not a bad little town, y'know." Charlie said, looking around. "Apart from all the craters and bodies lyin' everywhere, Wipers is a nice little place in the winter time."

"Eet ez pronounced eep."

The two men stopped and looked at each other. After an exchanged of shrugs, they turned to see a French soldier standing proudly before them. Stiff as a board, he fixed a concentrated stare on Charlie Carigan.

"I'm sorry?" Charlie acknowledged, sounding genuinely confused.

"Eet ez pronounced eep." The soldier answered slowly, then turned away.

George looked to his friend who had his eyebrows pulled together, absolutely gobsmacked at the soldier.

"Eep." He repeated in the same tone.

Charlie rolled his eyes and shook his head, "I'm still calling it Wipers."

George chuckled and the two continued on. Down the winding paths to the salient, careful not to slip on ice or any bodily fluids that happened to be in the walkway, they ran came across two men from their battalion they hadn't seen since early August.

"Hey, Harrison! Carigan!" Thomas hollered. "Nothin' like a proper Christmas present, right?"

"Yeah, happy Christmas, twenty minutes to zero hour!" Paxton bellowed.

Charlie, Thomas, and Paxton erupted into thunderous laughter along with some of the men that couldn't help but overhear their banter. George, however, did not laugh.

The smallest thought of zero hour made him cower back to the training camps. Screaming at his superiors, somehow going unpunished- but it was bound to happen at anytime. Attacks from the English or the German's were inevitable. Even Christmas couldn't stop a war, no matter what all the rumours entailed.

The men eventually arrived at the front lines. Daily boredom seemed to have taken over, and it was completely quite on both sides of no-man's-land. The silence wasn't tense, though. It was very light. Almost eerily at ease.

George rubbed his right thumb and forefinger together. He grimaced slightly at the numb feeling in both of them, then nudged Charlie with his elbow.

"Who's on sentry duty tonight?" He asked.

"I think Latimer is. Why?"

George shook his head and shoved his hands in his coat pocket. His numb fingers blindly found his last cigarette, but sadly, not a match.

••••

"Mail's in." Thomas huffed as he sat down. "I took the liberty of getting your post, Carigan."

"Ah, thank you." He replied, taking the envelopes and a parcel from him.

George watched as the two opened and began reading their letters. At one point, Charlie furrowed his eyebrows and pulled an envelope from under his letter.

"This is for you." He held out the paper to him.

"Me?" George pulled his eyebrows together and thought, who the hell would write me?

George, I know you do not know much about me, but I've read all about you from Charlie. At least half of his letters are of things you two have done together or what he's seen you do. Some of the stories are quite funny. Charlie refuses to go into detail about the war. Quite frankly I'm happy he doesn't. My friend's fiance sends her horrific details she has nightmares over. I asked Charlie not to write anything like that and he swore he never would. If you do write back, Matthew, I would sincerely appreciate it. It would cost me a little more in stamps, but I feel it will be worth it. Happy Christmas, and be safe, ~Grace Carigan

"Here," Charlie nudged his friend as he sat the letter down.

"Thanks," He took the cookie he offered him.

"So what'd she say?"

"She sai-" George suddenly stopped, choking on a bit of the cookie before quickly gathering himself.

"You good?" Charlie asked, to which George nodded.

"She said she wouldn't mind writing me like she writes you, but only if it was okay with me."

"You're gonna do it, then?"

"I guess." He replied, looking down to the tin in Charlie's hand. "What's that?"

"Oh," he handed it to me. "Fortnum and Mason's Christmas Box."

George looked up to Thomas, who gave him a firm nod. He opened the box and found turtle soup tablets, turkey, sausages, pudding, cream, shortbread cookies, chocolate, fruit cake, and what looked to be Elvas plums.

"All that for fifteen bob." Thomas said when George returned it

"That's yours, then?" He asked.

"Yeah, Vivian bought it for me. I'll share it with me mates though. There's too much here for me to keep it all to myself."

George nodded, then gazed up to the top of the trench. The moon hung in the sky like the sun, and just as bright, giving the snowy land an angelic aura.

A deep, droning melody began to drift over top of the trench, and it seemed to get louder as it continued. The chorus of shushing and curious murmers eventually subsided, allowing for the mysterious sound to finally be understood. It was German singing.

"Stille nacht, heilige nacht
Alles schläft, einsam wacht
Nur das traute hochheilige Paar
Holder knabe, im lockigen Haar
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!"

When the song ended, the English trench became filled with cheers and whistles. Every man clapped and not a soul was quiet.

Charlie leaned to George and said, "Right good that was."

George continued clapping, "I wonder what-"

Three men farther down from the two began singing loudly back to the Germans, cutting his sentence short.

"The first Noel the angels did say
Was to certain poor shepherds in fields
as they lay:
In fields where they lay keeping their sheep
On a cold winter's night that was so deep
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!"

Somewhere in the song, everyone else joined in. When the English were finished, then the Germans started cheering and clapping. But it wasn't long after that they they started to sing back.

The trading of songs between the two sides when on for a long while. The two sides graciously listened to one another's songs, trading what humanity they could without coming in direct contact.

During the song Come, all ye faithful, the Germans began singing with the English, only in Latin. The blend of languages bounced off the hillside in harmonies that melted like snow into George's heart.

He couldn't help it, he had to look at the Germans.

Cautiously, George stood on his toes to peak over the trench. Torches flickered yellow light over the top of the enemy trenches, with small fir trees decorating the parapets. It was an absolutely incredible sight, one he never thought he'd see.

"What's it look like?" Charlie grunted and he stood up next to George.

He fell silent when he saw the German trenches. Gaping and looking up and down the front line, neither one of them could find the right words to say. Somebody else did, though:

"Maybe the war will be over by Christmas..."

George quickly glanced back to the voice, and gave a small smile.

"Maybe it will..." he agreed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little Christmas in June never hurt anyone, right?