Christmas Eve Chronicled

The Independent bring two Christmas stories worth taking a look at.  The first one looks at Christmas from the front, United Kingdom style, over the years:

The men had a wonderful Christmas Day. They were like a happy lot of children. We decorated the wards with flags, holly, mistletoe and paper flowers that the men made, and a tree in each ward.

You cannot imagine how pretty they were. Each patient began the day with a sock that was hung at the foot of their bed by the night nurses.

In each was an orange, a small bag of sweets, nuts and raisins, a handkerchief, pencil, tooth brush, pocket comb and a small toy that pleased them almost more than anything else, and which they at once passed on to their children.

They had a fine dinner: jam, stewed rabbit, peas, plum pudding, fruit, nuts, raisins and sweets. The plum puddings were sent by the sister of one of the nurses.

Nurse Agnes Warner, a Canadian girl caring for the wounded in France, 1 January 1917

The second is one reporter’s account of learning to believe in the Claus:

“Good morning.” This voice is deeper, smoother, calmer and distinctly transatlantic. “Senior Elf Barnabus, vice president, communications. How may I help you, sir?”

Those not slinging mud at Christmas:

If you find some lefty Christmas coverage, let me know… trying to give some from both sides but it’s hard to find.

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