 Friday ( Christmas Day ) . We are having the most extraordinary Christmas Day imaginable . A sort of unarranged and quite unauthorized but perfectly understood and scrupulously observed truce exists between us and our friends in front . The funny thing is it only seems to exist in this part of the battle line – on our right and left we can all hear them firing away as cheerfully as ever . The thing started last night – a bitter cold night , with white frost – soon after dusk when the Germans started shouting ' Merry Christmas , Englishmen ' to us . Of course our fellows shouted back and presently large numbers of both sides had left their trenches , unarmed , and met in the debatable , shot @-@ riddled , no man 's land between the lines . Here the agreement – all on their own – came to be made that we should not fire at each other until after midnight tonight . The men were all fraternizing in the middle ( we naturally did not allow them too close to our line ) and swapped cigarettes and lies in the utmost good fellowship . Not a shot was fired all night . 
