When I was five years old my father was the pastor of the Polish National Church in Madison, Illinois. As young as I was, I still have a few lasting memories of life in the church and the rectory. For example, I tried out as an alter boy but failed miserably when I was forced to inform my father of impending gastric disaster- by tugging on his robes as he spoke to the congregation. I was hurriedly ushered out by my older brother, already a seasoned altar boy very adroit with the candle lighter/snuffer.

I remember my father's catechism class, and being upset after seeing a squad of soldiers firing three volleys over a veteran's casket set up on sawhorses between our house and the church; after all, this was my first realization of the inevitability of my own death! Later, sitting on the kitchen floor, I felt sorry for the soldier and myself and yelled, "I hate God; I don't wanna die!" My father tried to console me by saying, "But Stevie, we all have to die someday," to which I replied, "Waaaaaaaaaa!"

Truth be told, I came close to dying of double pneumonia in that very house. I remember my dad at my bedside, saying to my American mother in his thick Polish accent, "He's going to die, isn't he?" "No, he's not!" my mother replied firmly, "Why would you say such a stupid thing!" In Poland, things might have gone as Dad predicted, but this is America! My condition improved as soon as they put me in an ambulance to St. Louis Children's Hospital.

The food at church gatherings was great- pierogi, nalesniki, golobki- yes! There was a church bazaar with handmade crafts and a magnetic fishing pole game, and one Christmas Eve I was allowed to sit in the choir loft wearing a dark blue suit my mother had made especially for the occasion. Dad begrudgingly spoke to the congregation in Polish when his inclination was to speak English so as not to alienate the young. Not understanding a word of Polish, I was overjoyed to hear a familiar tune from the choir- "Silent Night", sung in Polish, of course- but familiar just the same. I rose from my seat proclaiming, "That's my song!"

Only recently, I learned the story of the first performance of "Silent Night". The original German lyrics for "Stille Nacht" were written by Joseph Mohr and the melody was hurriedly composed the afternoon of Christmas Eve by Franz Xavier Gruber, assistant pastor and choir director respectively at St. Nicholas Church in Oberndorf, Austria. "The Song Heard 'Round the World" was first performed by Mohr and Gruber with the support of the St. Nicholas choir and Gruber's guitar accompaniment at the Christmas Eve Midnight Mass in 1818. There is speculation that mice had damaged the organ bellows so that Gruber was forced to bring his guitar, but I prefer to think that the accompaniment was meant to be played on the guitar in the first place.

While the focus of Guitar Sessions® is obviously on the guitar, there is another story that bears mention, that of the so-called "Christmas Truce" of 1914 between British and German troops on the front line in Flanders. Stanley Weintraub, author of Silent Night: The Story of the World War I Christmas Truce, described it:

. . . the Germans set trees on trench parapets and lit the candles. Then, they began singing carols, and though their language was unfamiliar to their enemies, the tunes were not. After a few trees were shot at, the British became more curious than belligerent and crawled forward to watch and listen. And after a while, they began to sing.

By Christmas morning, the "no man's land" between the trenches was filled with fraternizing soldiers, sharing rations and gifts, singing and (more solemnly) burying their dead between the lines. Soon they were even playing soccer, mostly with improvised balls.

According to the official war diary of the 133rd Saxon Regiment, "Tommy and Fritz" kicked about a real football supplied by a Scot. "This developed into a regulation football match with caps casually laid out as goals. The frozen ground was no great matter . . . The game ended 3-2 for Fritz."

The Christmas Truce (which included French and Belgian troops in some areas) was over by New Year's Day. Military commanders on both sides ordered their troops to restart hostilities under penalty of court martial, and German and British soldiers reluctantly parted with hand-shaking and mutual goodwill. The Great War lasted another three Christmases and more with failed attempts at other Christmas truces. Millions more died before November 1918 when the shooting finally ended.

Contrast the use of music in the Christmas Truce of 1914 with that of the recent U.S./Iraqi sweep through Fallujah where the Marines and Iraqi allied forces played "The Marine's Hymn" over loudspeakers. The music so enraged the insurgents that many of them rushed into the streets firing their weapons before being killed themselves.

I sincerely doubt that there can be a truce in Iran on Christmas Eve. Let's hope at least for inner peace on earth and the "Silent Night" of a bygone era.

Best holiday wishes,
Stephen Rekas
Guitar Sessions® Editor