Four Weeks in the Trenches: The War Story of a ViolinistKreisler, Fritz
History
Four Weeks in the Trenches: The War Story of a Violinist
Kreisler, Fritz
World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, Austrian
By the morning of the third day we knew nearly every member of the
opposing trench, the favorite of my men being a giant red-bearded
Russian whose constant pastime consisted in jumping like a
Jack-in-the-box from the trench, crying over to us as he did so. He
was frequently shot at, but never hit. Then he grew bolder, showing
himself longer and longer, until finally he jumped out of the trench
altogether, shouting to us wildly and waving his cap. His
good-humored jollity and bravado appealed to our boys and none of them
attempted to shoot at him while he presented such a splendid target.
Finally one of our men, who did not want to be second in bravery,
jumped out of the trench and presented himself in the full sunlight.
Not one attempt was made to shoot at him either, and these two men
began to gesticulate at each other, inviting each other to come
nearer. All fighting had suddenly ceased, and both opposing parties
were looking on, laughing like boys at play. Finally the Russian
would draw a step nearer, and our man boldly advanced too. Then the
Russians urged on their man with shouts and laughter, and he made a
big leap forward, standing still, whereupon the Austrian also jumped
forward, and so, step by step, they approached until they nearly
touched each other. They had left their rifles behind, and we thought
that they were going to indulge in a fist fight, all of us being sorry
for our champion, for he was a small and insignificant-looking man who
looked as if he could be crushed with one blow by his gigantic
opponent. But lo, and behold! The big Russian held out his hand which
held a package of tobacco and our Austrian, seizing the tobacco,
grasped the hand of the Russian, and then reaching in his pocket
produced a long Austrian cigar, which he ceremoniously presented to
the Russian. It was indeed a funny sight to see the small, wiry, lean
Austrian talking in exaggerated terms of politeness to the blond
Russian giant, who listened gravely and attentively, as if he
understood every word.
By this time all precautions and even ideas of fighting had been
forgotten, and we were surprised to find ourselves out of the shelter
of our trenches and fully exposed to the Russians, who, in turn,
leaned out of their own trenches and showed their heads in full.
This unofficial truce had lasted about twenty minutes, and
succeeded more in restoring good humor and joy of life among our
soldiers than a trainload of provisions would have done. It was one
of the incidents that helped to relieve the monotony of trench life
and was heartily welcomed by all of us. The fighting, however, soon
was resumed with all its earnestness and fierceness, but from this
moment on a certain camaraderie was established between the two
opposing trenches. Between skirmishes an unofficial truce would
frequently be called for the purpose of removing the wounded.
During these times when the stretcher-bearers were busy, no shot
would be fired on either side.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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