History – Wartime Christmases

Before the shadow of war ever reached him, Ernest Martin Davies was simply a young orchardist and nurseryman, working steadily for Morrison & Sons in Warkworth. At just 20, he enlisted for World War I, stepping away from the familiar rhythms of home on 14 December 1914, and into a world he could never have imagined.

In April 1915, Ernest embarked for France. He was posted to the 7th Battery, 1st Brigade, New Zealand Field Artillery. Over the next four years and 151 days, his war carried him far from home through Egypt, the Balkans and the Western Front.

The winters were cruel. On 23 December 1915, just two days before Christmas, Ernest was admitted to the Alexandria Hospital suffering from trench foot. It is easy to imagine the loneliness of that Christmas, so far from home, and from the people who loved him, in distant Port Albert.

By 1917, Ernest had seen the war at its worst. He wrote of German planes passing overhead and of bombardments that lasted for days. In May, his wagon became stuck under fire. Forced to abandon it, they ran for their lives, finally reaching their new position at midnight. He lay exhausted under the shelter of a bank until morning.

Through all of this, Ernest meticulously kept his diary and wrote faithfully to those at home. As a cook, he was sent to the School of Cooking at Bethnal Green in London on 5 December 1917. Two days before Christmas that year, by chance, he met a woman near the YMCA where he was staying, and was invited to her home for Christmas dinner – a small, unexpected kindness in the middle of war.

The following year brought no easy relief. On 11 November 1918, his diary was simply headed: “Armistice Signed.” Yet for Ernest and the men of the 7th Battery, the war was not immediately over. They remained on the Western Front as part of the occupation and demobilisation.

His Christmas Day 1918 entry is quietly heartbreaking: “So, we spent our worst Xmas here. We could not have a feast, as there was nothing on hand and we could not buy anything. The people here are still hostile. Last night we had to sleep on the boards and the same for tonight. It was a nice fine day. Sent cards to E.M. Yates and to M. Woodman.”

On 6 January 1919, Ernest relinquished his duties as a cook and soon after embarked on the Willochra, beginning the long journey home. By then, the war had deeply shaped him in ways few at home could have understood.

Now, when we open those small black diaries, especially the Christmas pages of 1917 and 1918, we are reminded of what Christmas must have meant to Ernest – a home filled with familiar voices, a table shared with family, and love that wrapped around everyday moments. Far from that world, he carried those memories with him, holding onto them through cold winters and lonely nights. In those few written lines, we see not just a soldier, but a son who never stopped longing for the Christmases of home.

Wishing you and your loved ones a very Meri Kirihimete from all of us here at the Albertland Heritage Museum. May your holidays be safe, restful and filled with special moments as you and your families make new memories together.