In the Christmas special edition of The Spectator we ask various luminaries about their traditions on the day itself. For David Cameron, it’s gathering the kids in bed to open presents. For Jacob Rees-Mogg it’s mass at Downside Abbey then the Queen’s Speech. For me, it’s watching a short American film about Christmas in Britain in 1941, when the country waited for German invasion. When I heard the church bells ring in Somerset this morning, I was reminded of a passage from it:-
“For the first time in history, no bells ring in England to celebrate the birth of the Saviour. No church bells are allowed to be rung in England. If they do, it will mean that the invader has come… There is no reason for America to feel sorry for England this Christmas – England does not feel sorry for herself. Destiny gave her the torch of liberty to hold and she has not dropped it. She has not allowed the stormy waves of terrorism, which are sweeping over the world from Berlin, to let that bright light even flicker. She is thankful that, when the test came, she had the high courage to meet it. And today England stands unbeaten. Unconquered. Unafraid. On Christmas Eve, England does what she has done for a thousand years: she worships the Prince of Peace.
And the film cuts to precisely the same Carols from Kings that the world saw, live, last night.
My father-in-law, who grew up in devastated postwar Czechoslovakia, has a habit of watching war films to remind him how lucky we are not not live in such times. Peace, he says, is not natural state of affairs: it needs to be fought for and defended. It’s said that that man is born free, but it’s no birthright. Peace is not a natural state of affairs. The freedom and peace we enjoy today was defended and, ergo, bequeathed to us by those who risked and gave their lives in three-quarters of a century ago: the greatest generation. This video is a small reminder of their resilience.
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