Lights out everybody. I'm The This is a tale they tell of another Christmas, a Christmas 19 years ago. The great war was over. War-weary, soldiers and officers were at last being

allowed to rest to enjoy such recreation as soldiers might find. Leave areas were established in various parts of France and at intervals

individuals were sent from the stations of their organizations to these areas there to rest

and refresh themselves for a brief period.

The story properly begins on Christmas night, 1918.

19 years ago, a leave train was just coming to a halt in the station at Biafanche. I'm going to see a And he's still monsieur

monsieur he has been here monsieur

he has still my in offici

is in France

it's the premier class monsie

monsieur I Oh, mercy, Monsieur.

I've seen the bite of mine.

Here we are, Mike.

Thank you, Mercy,

Mep, Mep, Mep, Mep.

I'm not in English, chap, Australian and Zak.

Comple? Ah, we, we, we, we, we,

who said Australian, mise.

Right, Joe, and, uh, Merry Christmas old chap.

Ainswai, Monsieur L'Ostrad. A you know well Monsieur Loskale.

Oh, uh, excuse him, I'm sure, but I, uh, she would play. I would like to, uh, uh,

uh, uh, uh, minirary see. Oh, blasted, I can't talk of a ruddy language.

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