his choir, could be seen at Christmastide in their surplices (over thick clothing) singing and holding services at each of the candle-lit shrines placed where each road entered the village. To see and hear them, their lanterns hanging on crozier-like staffs, hymn books in hand, loudly singing 'Heilige Nacht' and 'Adeste Fideles' ('Holy Night' and 'Come all ye faithful'), their steaming breath rising in the crisp air, snowflakes falling the while, is something which impressed me greatly. They visited and sang at all the significant houses in the village, crunching in the snow as they made their way in temperatures a long way below freezing, some dropping off for a few minutes into a local Kneipe for a Bier and a warming Schnapps. It was the prettiest of pictures - deep snow on the roofs and under foot, no traffic, lights glowing in the windows of the brown and ochre timberwork medieval houses, and through the windows, the sight of a Christmas tree with white burning candles could often be glimpsed. They never had coloured lights on the Christmas trees, only white ones. They didn't use coloured paper decorations in their houses, only greenery, and those who could afford them would adorn the greenery with coloured baubles from Czechoslovakia. Any villagers I met always greeted me with "Grüss Gott" or "Fröhliche Weinachten" ("God greets you", or "Happy Christmas"). If there was a gap in the weather, the moonlight and bright starlight contributed greatly to the beauty of such evenings.
Borgentreich Church was a sight to see; I remember it being candle-lit and with someone playing Bach on its baroque organ. Even as Protestants we were always welcome. In those days, not ten years after the war, the farmers and many villagers were still very, very, poor. They were grateful for any money we could spend with them. We invited many of them into our Mess around Christmas time and they were always very appreciative. These things I shall never forget.
210