A Wartime Christmas Story

By: Mr. Curmudgeon
mrcurmudgeon@inthepublicsquare.com

In 1944, the winter weather in the Ardennes Forest was hovering at or below zero. The U.S. military had to run the engines of their transport trucks every twenty minutes to prevent the vehicle’s motor oil from freezing. German Field Marshal von Rundstedt took advantage of the dismal weather to launch an Axis winter offensive on December 16, now know as the “Battle of the Bulge.”

In his book on the Ardennes Campaign, Danny S. Parker wrote: “The tactical fighting took on a new desperate character called the ‘battle for the billets’ as both sides fought for village shelter to escape their frozen foxholes.”

A 12-year-old boy at the time, Fritz Vinchen recalled when soldiers of the World War descended on his family’s small forest cottage.

At that moment, I heard human voices outside, speaking quietly. Mother blew out the little candle on the table and we waited in fearful silence.

There was a knock at the door. Then another. When my mother opened the door, two men were standing outside. They spoke a strange language and pointed to a third man sitting in the snow with a bullet wound in his upper leg. We knew they were American soldiers. They were cold and weary.

Inviting the soldiers into the warmth of her cottage, Elisabeth Vinchen, Fritz’s mother, asked her son to fetch six more potatoes from an outdoor shed. One of the Americans spoke French and told the helpful family of the battle raging in the dark, cold forest around them.

Not long afterward, another knock was heard at the cottage door. Four German soldiers were also in search of warmth and shelter.

Now I was almost paralyzed with fear,” said Fritz. "While I stood and stared in disbelief, my mother took the situation into her hands. I had always looked up to my mother and was proud to be her son. But in the moments that followed, she became my hero.

“Frohliche Weihnachten,” (Merry Christmas) said Elisabeth in German to the freezing Nazi soldiers. She informed the Germans that there were other dinner guests inside and reminded them that is was Christmas Eve. She also “told them sternly there would be no shooting around here.” She ordered the soldiers to store their weapons in the outdoor shed and they complied. Elisabeth hurried inside the cottage to collect and lock away the American’s arms as well.

At first meeting, the enemy soldiers were suspicious and cautious. Soon after, one of the Germans, a medical student before the war, tended the wounded American’s leg, while another in his group offered a loaf of rye bread for the simple Christmas feast. One of the Americans contributed his ration of instant coffee.

At the dinner table, Elisabeth offered a simple prayer before serving the meal, “Come here Jesus and be our guest.”

That simple prayer, if only momentarily, helped break the spell of Hitler’s hateful hold over four members of the German Wehrmacht. They were reminded of the Christian love which their Nazi masters were so ruthlessly attempting to sweep from the face of the Earth.

Fritz recalled looking around the table:

I saw the battle-weary soldiers were filled with emotion. Their thoughts seemed to be many, many miles away. Now they were boys again, some from America, some from Germany, all far from home.

After a good night’s sleep, the soldiers rose and wished each other a Merry Christmas. Then they all worked to fashion a stretcher to carry the wounded American. The Germans pointed the way back to the American lines for the lost U.S. soldiers and both parties shook hands and marched through the snow and back to their respective armies.

Meanwhile, Third Army’s commander, General George S. Patton, was frustrated that the harsh winter weather was hampering his crusade to destroy Hitler’s evil.

The commanding general prayed in the chapel of the Pescatore Foundation in Luxembourg City:

Damn it Sir, I can't fight a shadow. Without Your cooperation from a weather standpoint, I am deprived of an accurate disposition of the German armies and how in hell can I be intelligent in my attack? All this probably sounds unreasonable to You, but I have lost all patience with Your chaplains who insist that this is a typical Ardennes winter, and that I must have faith.

…You must come to my assistance, so that I may dispatch the entire German Army as a birthday present to Your Prince of Peace.

At first glance, the two stories above seem contradictory. In reality, the two are expressions of the same Christian love. The first reminded Hitler’s soldiers of their forgotten Christian duty of love to others. The second story speaks of our Christian duty to fight evil in the name of that love.

Patton’s prayer was answered; the skies over the Ardennes did clear and Allied airpower helped stop the German advance. The Allied defeat of Germany was followed by an occupation, not of conquest, but of justice – slowly reestablishing the Judeo-Christian civilization Hitler strove to bury under a harsh winter’s Christmas snow.

--Mr. Curmudgeon