Bayonets and Barbed Wire

Chapter 2

Lansing, Michigan, The United States of America

December 23, 1955

8:00 P.M.

The door of Otto's office opened with a creak as the clock chimed eight o'clock, and in the doorway stood Otto's granddaughter, Helga . Startled, Otto instantly sat up straight and flipped the pictured over on the table. Realizing it was merely his granddaughter, he quickly relaxed.

"Opa!" she yelled happily as she ran over to the side of his wooden chair and gestured for him to pick her up. He did this task obediently, although it was noticeably harder than the last few times he had done it.

"Good evening, Helga, and what is it you need?" he asked her as she sat her down in his lap.

"I wanted to hear more stories about the War," she said happily, her bright, shiny, blue eyes matching perfectly with her curly, blonde hair. The curls had come from her father, as nobody on her mother's side of the family had curly hair.

"Well, just pick an item from this box and I'll tell you the story behind it," Otto said, gesturing towards his box of Great War relics. Excited to hear yet another story, Helga reached into the box and pulled out a small carton of French-themed playing cards.

"How about this one Opa?" she waved the small carton in his face.

"Oh, this one, well this one is proper Christmas story," Otto smiled at the memory of what was probably the most meaningful Christmas in his life.

German Front Line Trenches, Champagne District, France

December 25, 1914

6:00 A.M.

Slowly, Otto, Ralf, Anton, and a group of about thirty other men walked towards the French front line trenches, their arms raised above their heads to show their lack of weapons, and their voices ringing out with cries of "Merry Christmas" in French. Although tentative at first, the French slowly rose out of their trenches and repeated the actions. The first soldier that Otto encountered was a young French boy in his late teens, he had dark, curly hair, green eyes, and what looked to be the start of some facial hair.

"Hello, sir" the boy said as he stared nervously at Otto, who was nearly five inches taller.

"Good morning soldier," Otto looked over the boy again, "How old are you?"

"I am fifteen, sir."

"Are you not a bit young to be a soldier?"

"The war is requiring all of us to take up arms, from Marseilles to Paris."

"I see. Why did you join though?"

"Because, France is under attack, we all must defend it."

"Is this the first battle you have been in?"

"Yes sir."

"Mine too, we just arrived yesterday, my brother and I are from Danzig."

"My father and I are from Amiens."

"What is it like there?"

"Well, it's part of the Hauts-de-France region, but we are led by the Somme department. It is a large town and I have many friends there. We have a small two story home, but it is beautifully decorated inside. Right now, only my mother and younger brother live there since my father and I are fighting here." Then, as if on cue, a tall, dark haired man called out in French and motioned for the boy to come over. Before he left, he pulled a small carton of cards out from his coat and thrust them into Otto's hand. "These are from my home in Amiens, they are my lucky deck, and I hope they bring you luck now too," Unprepared for such a gesture, Otto fumbled around in his pocket for a few moments before pulling out a pocket watch, he grabbed the boy's arm as he began to leave and gently placed the watch in his palm.

"This was my grandfather's, he gave it to me before he died, he always told me to hold it next to my heart when I am afraid, and that when I did that, he would be there to help me. On the cover there, that's a carving of the Brandenburg gate," Otto said as he pointed to the elegant carving on the cold, hard metal of the watch's case. "I think that he would want you to have it."

The boy looked shocked, "Thank you sir, thank you so much," he said before running through the thick mud to his father. With that, Otto turned and began to search the mass of mingling persons for Ralf, all the while calling out his name. Finally, he managed to find his brother.

"Otto, look at what one of the Frenchmen gave me!" Ralf was more excited than usual, but this did not bother Otto, it was good to see him like this after last night. Ralf pulled a small, circular container out of his pocket, it was roughly and inch in diameter and half an inch in height, on the cover was a fleur-de-lis. With a slight movement of his thumb, Ralf opened the container and revealed a small, porcelain Gallic rooster that had been secured to the metallic base of the container through some form of adhesive. The rooster had the tripartite colours of the French flag.

"That's beautiful Ralf!" Otto nearly shouted. Never had Otto ever seen anything so uniquely crafted and finely carved with so much care and attention to detail.

"He and his wife ran a jewelry shop in Paris together before he was sent here. One of these must have cost a fortune, yet he just gave it to me as a gift."

"He must have been a nice man. I met a fifteen-year-old who gave me some cards for good luck. One can only imagine how scared he must be. According to him, he came from Amiens, and, although he is technically our enemy, I really do hope that his home does not get destroyed during the war."

German Front Line Trenches, Champagne District, France

December 25, 1914

7:00 P.M.

As night fell upon the camp, Otto returned to his bunk, Ralf had gone to the French lines with Anton for a sort of Christmas dinner. Outside the tent, there were the sounds of brass bands playing Christmas songs and singing carols in French. Although the majority of his fellow Germans probably did not understand the words they were singing, they kept up the tune. It did not matter that they were from different nations on this night, they were all people. Remembering the cards that the young boy had given him earlier, Otto pulled the carton out of his coat and opened it. On the inside the name "Sylvester" was written in pencil. The cards bore unique designs from the ones he had played with as a child in Danzig, yet each one was absolutely beautiful. With that, Otto closed the carton and slid it into his pocket before saying his nighttime prayers, mentally thanking Sylvester, and closing his eyes.