Army Of Angels (A Glanny Fan Fiction)

Chapter Nine

Army Of Angels.

Chapter Nine.

June 1990:

"I want to skip through November. This was spent in the reserve trenches. They were cosy enough. Cosier than the front line trenches that's for sure. But nothing happened. We waited all day to be called up. We shined our boots. We ran through different types of barrages," I said.

"Okay. So where do you want to go to now?" He asked.

"I want to tell you about an old rumour that traveled faster than light across the world," I started.

He leant forward and leant his elbow on his knee and his chin on his up turned palm. His fingertips curled around the edge of his cheekbone.

"Go on," he said.

"Christmas Eve. 1914," I said.

December 24th 1914:

It won't be over by Christmas. That much is clear. We will not be sipping that fine wine that Mark was on about with our families. We will not be having a jolly time at all. Instead we shall be here. In a waterlogged trench. Sleeping in our dugouts. Duckboard for a mattress and a sandbag for a pillow if we are lucky.

If anything annoys me it's those pesky rats. They're all over the place and you can't seem to get rid of them. Don't even get me started on the body lice.

Or even the smell. Don't get me started on that either. I guess when you have bodies piled up on the sides of the trench and they are rotting away at a faster rate than usual due to the heat and close proximity of the other bodies, then this let off a god awful smell. They were everywhere. Like the rats. In shallow ditches. Piled up in the reserve trenches and on the path to the reserve trenches but no more so than on the front lines. Latrines overflowed sending the belongings of a toilet into the trench. Into where we sleep, wash and eat. God awful.

I was rubbing my hands together and blowing on them, trying to get a bit of heat onto my flesh if it were possible. Then throughout the camp we all heard singing. Notes that drifted from not so far away yet seemed so distant at the same time.

Stille Nacht, heilige,

Alles schläft; einsam wacht

Nur das traute hochheilige Paar.

Holder Knabe im lockigen Haar,

Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!

Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!

Wilfred, Mark and I stuck our heads out of our dugouts as all of the soldiers were doing. They were singing Silent Night.

"Silent Night," I whispered.

"You speak German?" Mark asked.

"No. Just listen to the tune," I said.

So we listened and it was so. They were indeed singing Silent Night. In other words. They were asking for a truce. I sat up fully and cleared my throat. Mark caught on and have me a wide eyes gesture as if to say: 'you can't be serious!' But I was. Oh boy was I serious.

"Silent night, holy night

All is sleeping, alone watches

Only the close, most holy couple," I sang

Wilfred slowly joined in and then Mark. Slowly along down the line more soldiers joined in. The singing of the Germans got louder when they heard our singing.

Blessed boy in curly hair,

Sleep in heavenly peace!

Sleep in heavenly peace!" We sang.

No one slept that silent night.

Christmas Day 1914:

"What happened last night was a one off and it won't happen again!" General O'Donoghue snapped.

Mark raised an eyebrow at me and I turned away. We shall see about that. They were calling for a truce. Even if it was a truce that lasts for a day, I'd like it. Let us have Christmas Day off at least. I stepped onto the fire bay and stuck my head over the parapet. A bullet from a German snipper soared over my head. A hand yanked at the clothes on my back, forcing me down and out of sight.

"Never in my dreams! Power are you completely insane! Don't ever do that again!" General O'Donoghue yelled.

He roughly let go of my military coat and turned his back on me. His feet squelched in the mud. No. I shall not do as he says. Once again I stuck my foot into the fire bay and my head over the parapet but this time I brought my hands up into a surrender.

"Power! You idiot!" General O'Donoghue roared.

Nothing happened. No bullets. No shells. No shrapnel. No grenades.

"Forgive me for saying General, but they appear to not be shooting my head off!" I yelled backwards.

"Don't you dare get out of that trench. Come out of that fire bay right now Power!" General O'Donoghue yelled back.

In answer I flung myself out of the trench and walked into No Mans Land where I saw a German soldier advancing too.

"I'm actually going to kill that boy!" General O'Donoghue shouted whilst I was leaving.

The German and I stopped in the middle of No Mans Land and looked at each other for a while. The German stuck out his hand.

"Me namez est Rodney," he said.

I shook his hand.

"My name is Glen," I said.

June 1990:

"So it's true. The silent night. The football on No Mans Land?" He asked.

"All true,"

"Who won?"

"Who do you think?"

"Britain?"

"You'd like to think so but with our track record of football skills ... You can safely say the Germans won that game," I said.

"What about General O'Donoghue? What did he do?" He asked.

I sighed and rested my hands on my stomach. It had always intrigued me as to why Danny had acted that way on that day. I could never truly see into his mind no matter how close we got.

"He didn't take part. He took to pretending it never happened. He was most angry with me that's for sure. I however was proud of myself. It's not often you instigate a moment in history now is it?" I said.

Christmas Day 1914:

General O'Donoghue marched right up to my dugout and ordered me to stand. I did so without fear. I knew there would be repercussions for what I did. I may have caused a truce for the day, but I also disobeyed my General's orders. Punishable by death or by Field Punishment Number One.

"Under normal circumstances I would have placed you in the way of the firing squad and have done with you. But what you did today caused only one man to die," he said.

My eyes widened with shock. I took all the risks not one single soldier, British or German, should have died today. If anyone were to die it should have been me.

"Who?" I croaked.

"I believe you know him Power. Frank Collins. He was walking up to great a German fella and when he turned his back on the German troop the German shot him in the back. The Stretcher Bearers tried reaching poor Frank but couldn't in time. But more would have died if you hadn't taken all of the risks today. So although I am going to pretend it never happened - Don't interrupt Power - I am going to pay particular attention to who and what is my enemy and who is loyal to me and the Queen," he said.

He refused to believe that a truce was possible. He refused.

A/N: Christmas update for you all.