John McCutcheon – Christmas in the Trenches Chords

My name is Francis Tolliver.
I come from Liverpool.
Two years ago the war was waiting
for me after school.
To Belgium and to Flanders,
to Germany, to here,
I fought for King and country I love dear.
Twas Christmas in the trenches
where the frost so bitter hung.
The frozen fields of France were still,
no Christmas song was sung.
Our families back in England
were toasting us that day,
Their brave and glorious lads so far away.

I was lyin’ with my messmate
on the cold and rocky ground
When across the lines of battle
came a most peculiar sound.
Says I “Now listen up me boys”,
each soldier strained to hear
As one young German voice sang out so clear.
“He’s singin’ bloody well you know”,
my partner says to me.
Soon one by one each German voice
joined in in harmony.
The cannons rested silent.
The gas cloud rolled no more
As Christmas brought us respite from the war.

As soon as they were finished
a reverent pause was spent.
“God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen”
struck up some lads from Kent.
The next they sang was ‘Stille Nacht”
“Tis ‘Silent Night'” says I
And in two tongues one song filled up that sky.

“There’s someone commin’ towards us”
the frontline sentry cried.
All sights were fixed on one lone figure
trudging from their side.
His truce flag, like a Christmas star,
shone on that plain so bright
As he bravely strode, unarmed, into the night.

Soon one by one on either side
walked into nomansland
With neither gun nor bayonet
we met there hand to hand.
We shared some secret brandy
and wished each other well
And in a flarelit soccer game we gave ’em hell.
We traded chocolates, cigarettes
and photographs from home
These sons and fathers far away
from families of their own.
Young Sanders played his squeeze box
They had a violin
This curious and unlikely band of men.

Soon daylight stole upon us
and France was France once more.
With sad farewells we each began
to settle back to war.
But the question haunted every heart
that beat that wonderous night
“Whose family have I fixed within my sights?”
Twas Christmas in the trenches
where the frost so bitter hung.
The frozen fields of France were warmed
as songs of peace were sung.
For the walls they’d kept between us
to exact the work of war
Had been crumbled and were gone forever more.

My name is Francis Tolliver.
In Liverpool I dwell.
Each Christmas come since World War One I’ve
learned its lessons well.
That the ones who call the shots won’t be
among the dead and lame
And on each end of the rifle we’re the same.