The dull red tint of the brick walls, the clean yellow straw, and the bright radiance of our glorious Union Jack made a splendid combination of colour.

It would have been a fitting setting for a tableau of the Nativity.
The Highlanders assembled in two rows and I handed out hymn books.
There were many candles in the building so the men were able to read.
It was wonderful to hear in such a place and on such an occasion, the beautiful old hymns, "While Shepherds Watched their Flocks by Night," "Hark the Herald Angels Sing," and "O Come All Ye Faithful." The men sang them lustily and many and varied were the memories of past Christmases that welled up in their thoughts at that time.
I had a comfortable bunk in one of the dugouts that night, and was up next morning early to spend the day among the men in the line.

I was delighted to find that the weather had changed and a most glorious day was lighting up the face of nature.

The sky overhead was blue and only a few drifting clouds told of the rain that had gone.

The sun was beating down warm and strong, as if anxious to make up for his past neglect.
The men, of course, were in high spirits, and the glad handshake and the words "A Merry Christmas" had got back their old-time meaning.
The Colonel had given orders to the men not to fire on the enemy that day unless they fired on us.