Chris Waddington

A Letter From Chris Waddington

The 1914 Christmas Truce has haunted me for as long as I can remember. The idea that men who had been trying to kill each other could, for a few extraordinary hours, climb out of their trenches, shake hands, share photographs of loved ones and sing together — it's a moment of humanity so powerful I could never quite let it go.

I didn't set out to write a war novel. I set out to try to understand how ordinary people hold on to hope in the worst possible circumstances. The soldiers who lived through Flanders weren't heroes out of a storybook. They were butchers, bakers, farmhands, schoolboys. They missed their mothers. They wrote letters home about their dogs. And yet, on one freezing December night, they did something the generals on both sides found almost impossible to believe.

Writing Christmas in Flanders Fields took me [CHRIS TO CONFIRM — e.g. "five years of research"], and a journey to the fields themselves, where the ground still holds the memory of those men. I read their letters. I stood where they stood. I tried, as honestly as I could, to give their voices back to them.

I grew up in [CHRIS TO CONFIRM — where you're from], and before I started writing full-time I [CHRIS TO CONFIRM — previous career / a line or two about your life]. When I'm not writing about the Great War, I write children's books — something I've been doing for years, selling thousands of copies at markets and fairs across the country. The two might seem a world apart, but both come from the same place: a belief in the kindness people are capable of, even when the odds are against them.

Thank you for being here. If this book — or the story behind it — means something to you, I'd love to hear from you. You'll find me on social media, or you can drop me a line through the newsletter below.