ROBERT Hamilton was born into a privileged Victorian family who accepted the benefits of their position, but realised their responsibilities to society.

In their case and at that time they perceived those responsibilities to be either helping to protect the empire or administering the colonies, so in due course Robert was sent to Glenalmond College near Perth, an educational establishment which specialised in preparing young men for a career in the army or the civil service.

As he excelled on the sports fields and in the gymnasium rather than in the classroom his future obviously lay with the military.

In due course, at the end of the nineteenth century, Robert was commissioned into the Norfolk Regiment or the Holy Boys, as they were known, a reference to Britannia on their badge being mistaken for the Virgin Mary.

In 1900 the Norfolks sailed for South Africa to fight the Boers. After active service in the Transvaal, Orange Free State and Cape Colony he was able to enjoy post war colonial life in Bloemfontein.

In 1907 the regiment moved on to Bombay, but while on leave in England later that year he married Renie Mordaunt and soon after they bought Collaven Manor at Sourton. The life of a serving officer overseas did not mix well with that of a country landowner and farmer and in 1909 he retired from the army.

In 1912 he joined the Special Reserve and was called up into the Warwickshire Regiment in early 1913.

He was on leave at Sourton at the beginning of August 1914 and on August 4, the day WW1 broke out, he and his wife, with their two children perched in front of them, rode their horses across the moor to Black Rock for a bathe and to have a picnic.

Early on the morning of August 5 this rural idyll was shattered when he was woken up by a loud banging on the door. This was a messenger to deliver the dreaded telegram ordering him to return to his regiment at Shorncliffe by 7 pm.

With the rest of the family still asleep he quickly dressed into his uniform, went up onto his beloved moor above Collaven and over to Sourton church.

He was a devout Christian and prayed for his family's safe keeping while he was away. After bidding farewell to Cynthia and Richard, his young children, Renie drove him to Bridestowe Station in the gig to catch the 9.45 train to Waterloo.

War fever was already rife and the station was apparently decked with flags and crowded with departing soldiers and their families.

Initially sent from Shorncliffe to York as part of the local defence force, the 1st Battalion Warwicks was in France before the end of the month.

Lieutenant Hamilton was a platoon commander until October 23 when he took over A Company on the death of Captain Bentley and was himself promoted to captain. Constant shelling and sniping accounted for the large number of casualties during this period, including Robert's batman.

He would lose another one killed and two more wounded before the end of the year.

As winter approached there was something of a stalemate and both armies were firmly entrenched, facing each other across no man's land, which in some places was as narrow as 70 yards.

The Warwicks moved over the border into Belgium and were near the village of St Yves, adjacent to 'Plugstreet' Wood.

Daily shelling was still the order of the day with regular casualties, but constant rain, flooded trenches, deep mud, lice and rats also took their toll.

During this hiatus it seems that the Warwicks would spend a few days in the trenches before being relieved by the Royal Dublin Fusiliers and during their time at the rear were sometimes lucky enough to get a bath in factory dyeing vats, ten men at a time, a change of underwear, their uniforms dried and de-loused and the chance to catch up on much needed sleep.

Robert had hoped to be at Collaven for Christmas, but all leave was cancelled and instead at 6.30pm on Christmas Eve he found himself leading his company back to the trenches to relieve the 'Dubs'. This was always a danger zone where men were out in the open, lit up by starshells, a target for any sharpshooter, yet strangely all was ominously quiet.

As they passed the Dubs on the way out they were told that the Germans were trying to make contact.

Not long after they were back in position in the trenches the Germans started shouting:?'Are you the Warwicks?'

To which they replied, 'Come and see!'

This went on for some time until a Private Gregory sought permission to go into no man's land.

Although strictly against Army Regulations, Captain Hamilton said:?'Go at your own risk.'

He eventually met up with two unarmed Germans and after being given a cigar he returned unscathed to say that they wanted to meet the officer.

After more shouting across at each other it was arranged that the two officers would meet at dawn, unarmed. In the meantime carols were sung on both sides and Christmas greetings were exchanged.

Christmas morning was fine and frosty and soon after dawn Robert took a chance and climbed up over the parapet.

On his way towards the enemy lines he was met by his German counterpart, armed! Neither spoke the other's language, but they somehow managed to agree a 48 hour truce.

The return to their respective trenches with the news, was the signal for troops on both sides to venture out into what was left of the turnip field, to meet and exchange goods and generally enjoy not being shot at.

High on the list of swappable goods were tunic buttons, English cigarettes for German cigars, but the item most coveted by the German troops was a tin of bully beef.

Somebody was able to produce a football and an impromptu match took place. The day was punctuated by laughter, plenty of singing and entertainment of an increasingly raucous nature.

More sombrely it was also a chance to inspect enemy defences if you could get close enough, repair parapets and strengthen barbed wire defences.

Both sides agreed the gruesome task of collecting the decomposing bodies littering the area between the opposing armies.

British and German victims were interred side by side and given a Christian burial. As dusk approached Robert doubled the number of sentries as a precaution, but the truce held.

Although fraternising of any kind was officially strictly forbidden similar meetings took place all along this part of the front.

Some officers would not allow men to take part, but observed the truce. It appears that senior officers, although disapproving, generally turned a blind eye to proceedings. No one was court marshalled and any 'rockets' were administered privately.

When Robert came to make the Christmas day entry in his diary he headed it A Day Unique in the World's History. For a short while the ideals of peace and friendship overcame the dark forces of suspicion and hostility and men on both sides discovered that they had much more in common with each other than they had previously imagined.

Unfortunately a single shot from the British side eventually ended the Christmas truce.­