The iconic photo of the supposed christmas day dinner was long a symbol of the day. But it has since been questioned. Many details are inconsistent with details verified by Seaforth veterans. Plus men  are clearly wearing shoulder patches from other units. It was concluded that  the photo was not at the Santa Maria de Constantinopoli church, but at the Divisional Headquarters at San Vito Chientino. [SeaforthHighlanders.ca]

The signals officer of the Seaforth Highlanders of Canada knew that just outside, amid the ruins of an Italian town far from home, the bloodshed continued. The vicious urban battle was destined to rage for several more days—not that he nor any of his comrades were aware of that at the time. For now, they gathered, laughed, ate, drank and, in Gildersleeve’s case, played music on the organ.

He was never sure why he’d brought a hymn book with him from North Vancouver to wartorn Europe. Perhaps it was to remind him of when he once accompanied the choir at his local congregation. Perhaps, somehow, it was for this moment.

The plan was to have each of The Seaforth’s forward rifle companies rotate out of the fighting and into the damaged church where they would be presented with a festive dinner. From 11 a.m., ‘C’ Company received the first two-hour respite.

“The setting for the dinner was complete,” the regimental war diarist wrote, “long rows of tables with white table cloths, and a bottle of beer per man, candies, cigarettes, nuts, oranges and apples and chocolate bars providing the extras.”

And then there was the main course, comprising “Soup, Pork with apple sauce, cauliflower mixed vegetables, mashed potatoes, [and] gravy.” It was a feast fit for a king—and even more so for soldiers tired of meagre rations—while a dessert of “Christmas pudding and minced pie” ensured that everyone was to be well fed.

Major Roy Durnford, the regimental padre, observed the custom of officers serving the enlisted men their food. With Gildersleeve’s carols filling the air, he could have been forgiven for thinking that he, too, had been transported to a congregation back home. Beyond the chipped masonry, however, Durnford could hear the “deathly chatter of machine guns,” as he noted in his own diary at dinner.

“People are going to get killed going to that dinner and others are going to die coming back.”

The Seaforth Highlanders of Canada was the only unit temporarily pulled from the front. Elsewhere in Ortona’s rubble streets, luckier troops of The Loyal Edmonton Regiment managed to wolf down cold pork chops when not being fired upon.

Nor would every Seaforth soldier attend. When one six-man section was informed that they could retire, their leader, 29-year-old Private Ernest ‘Smokey’ Smith of New Westminster, B.C., refused to let them go. “I don’t know what goes through the minds of those people who are in charge of this,” he said, “but people are going to get killed going to that dinner and others are going to die coming back from it.”

The future Victoria Cross recipient was right. When ‘D’ Company’s Lieutenant Dave Fairweather led his platoon out from the last rotation at 7 p.m., a German shell landed amongst his troops. He later counted one dead and two wounded.

Earlier that day, Fairweather had also expressed fears about there being “too much beer and liquor available.” Despite the limited ale, free-flowing wine had left him concerned that drunken battlefield mistakes could likely have “ended in disaster.”

Nevertheless, for most Canadians, their brief stint at Santa Maria di Costantinopoli was the closest they’d ever get to either merriness or glad tidings in Ortona.

That sentiment was certainly not lost on Gildersleeve, who played the church organ for hours, even after his fingers started to ache—aware that it could be worse. He was aware, too, that some of those he’d played to had savoured their last supper.

Gildersleeve himself would see his Vancouver congregation again. In the meantime, the dinner over, he replaced his helmet and walked outside.

“When the last man of the Battalion reluctantly left the table to return to the grim realities of the day,” wrote the diarist of the wrapped-up festivities, “there was an atmosphere of cheer and good fellowship in the church. A true Christmas spirit.”