The Christmas and Hanukkah celebration seasons are special to millions across the globe.

However, what if you are in the midst of a war during those holidays?

My mind goes back decades, when I was active-duty, serving on the secretary of the Navy’s public affairs staff. America was in the midst of the Vietnam War.

During that holiday season, one of my duties was to draft a message from the secretary to those serving in the Navy and Marine Corps. My other task was to draft a press release on the special Christmas meal being served on base, onboard ships, or at the war front.

My writing efforts, as a petty officer, worked their way to my chief petty officer, our commanding officer — a captain — to the Navy’s Chief of Information Office, finally to the Department of Defense Public Affairs for distribution.

I can still remember working into the Christmas meal press release “assorted hard candy” being on the menu.

After serving active and reserve naval duty, my career took me into three decades of health care administration. I was privileged to meet numerous women and men who served during World War II, Korea, Vietnam, the Gulf War, and in Iraq and Afghanistan, and during peace time.

The stories I heard from those individuals who served helped me deeply appreciate the democracy my family, friends, you and I live in.

I never served in a combat zone. However, at one time, I saw the flag-draped steel caskets arrive at Dover Air Force Base. I attended numerous military funerals, including my commanding officers.

A TRUE STORY ON NO MAN’S LAND

Allow me to share with you a Christmas story which goes back 110 years.

It was World War I. The British, Belgian, and French troops were in combat with the Germans on what was known as the “western front.”

In September 1914, Pope Benedict XV called for a Christmas truce. Somehow, with that message — and I am most certain along with divine providence — a truce began that Christmas Eve and into Christmas Day.

It began on Christmas Eve 1914, when the Allies and the German troops ceased combat. The accounts of what happened are numerous.

To the best of my research and reading, this is what happened on that cold, wet, wind-swept battlefront:

The scene was ladened with the bodies of those who had perished. Thousands of troops were fighting from the trenches. In some instances, opposing forces were less than 100 feet apart.

One of the many accounts of the unusual event began when the allies began to sing Christmas carols. Engaged, the Germans sang “Silent Night (Stille Nacht).” Then, together, all sang “O Come, All ye Faithful” — in multiple languages.

The following morning, Christmas Day, as the sun burst open across the battlefield, German troops emerged from the trenches, calling out in English, “Merry Christmas!” and carrying crudely made signs stating, “You no shoot, we no shoot.”

Gunfire gave way to a moment of tranquil peace.

Historical accounts stated the international troops exchanged gifts of sweets, bread, biscuits, ham, cigarettes, wine, cognac buttons, and hats. Conditions permitted for the dead to be buried. There were also accounts of makeshift soccer matches on select battlefront regions.

During the following war years, on the German side, any truce was banned under threat of court martial.

Numerous movies and news accounts have been made about that event. They are worth your time to listen and view.

The most poignant on YouTube is a three-minute video presented by the British supermarket chain, Sainsbury. The video offers an emotional tribute to that unusual war front event.

To me, that World War I event is a brief testament to the power of hope and humanity during one of the world’s darkest hours.

During Christmas and Hanukkah, I offer a hand salute to active-duty military members, reservists, and veterans.

Jeffrey D. Brasie is a retired health care CEO. He frequently writes historic feature stories and op-eds for various Michigan newspapers. As a Vietnam-era veteran, he served in the U.S. Navy and U.S. Naval Reserve. He served on the public affairs staff of the secretary of the Navy. He grew up in Alpena and resides in suburban Detroit.