All Is Calm, All Is Bright, a biggles series fanfic

Author's Note: A Christmas Story, though I fear it is slightly out of season… Trying to capture Christmas in War Time and what feelings it might waken in a young man.

Warning: The warning is placed here for vinsmouse, who wanted a spew warning here, claiming it might be a bad idea to drink while reading the funnier parts. So please keep in mind that drinking any kind of beverage while reading this, might be hazzard'ous to the health of your screen.

Disclaimer: I do not own Biggles. I am merely playing with him and his friends. I give my word that when I am done with them they shall have come to no permanent harm. In case of damage I promise I will fix it with some chewing gum and Ginger's mechanical degree.

All is calm and all is bright

As Algy was heading home he was painfully aware of how dark it was, in fact he was not entirely certain that he would be able to find his way home, but it still seemed like the best solution. When he had left on patrol earlier in the day he had not given much thought to its being Christmas or anything, and now, after having force landed across the line with a faulty magneto he was even less concerned about it. He had considered staying where he was but eventually he had decided against it. He had been forced to hide the whole day and now he was cold and hungry and quite willing to take the risk of trying to find his way at night, if it only meant there was the slightest chance he might make his way home.

When, according to his calculations he was, coming to the lines the engine started coughing again and he muttered a few choice words as the magneto was apparently still unhappy with its allotted task in life and was failing to perform as it should. He could see some odd lights below, but there was no helping it, he was heading earthwards so he turned off the engine and allowed his Camel to glide through the air, hoping he could find somewhere to touch down when he got there. He could hear an odd sort of sound, but he was as yet too high to tell what it was. Peering over the side of his plane into the darkness of the ground beneath him it suddenly struck him what the lights were. They were decorated trees on the side of the trenches.

Staring in disbelief he pushed his goggles up, but the truth remained, the soldiers had put trees and candles on their trenches in the silent Christmas night.

No, he realized, it was not silent, for now he could tell what it was he was hearing. What drifted up in the darkness was a carol and the reason it had sounded so strange at first was that he was hearing both the English, and the German words at the same time.

Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child
Holy Infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace

Silent night, holy night!
Shepherds quake at the sight
Glories stream from heaven afar
Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia!
Christ, the Saviour is born
Christ, the Saviour is born

Silent night, holy night
Son of God, love's pure light
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth

Astonished, he realized that it was the much talked about Christmas truce. It had come to pass after all then, and there they were, still beneath him as he slowly glided along the line, standing up side by side each one of them a singer of the hymn.

He could not help it; as he was still far above them, he quietly sang along himself, knowing the song would never be the same for him again. How would he ever be able to listen to it without feeling the chill of the air, the faint sound of the wind passing over his wings and the candles that shone beneath him with a flickering yet determined light.

He had never before seen such a sight and if he lived to be a hundred he did not expect to see it again. From the far away distance came the echo of Christmas bells, their heavy toll no more than a faint tinkling when they reached his ears, but they were there and they rang out their message to everyone who could hear.

He came to land on a desolate spot quite a way from the nearest trench and yet he could still hear them. As he once more wrestled with his temperamental engine he sometimes closed his eyes to hear better. The night was dark around him though here and there the sky seemed just a touch brighter where the trees were. The ground beneath him was muddy and the cold crisp air caused his breath to mist at his lips as he bent over the engine that was still radiating a bit of warmth.

The machine was fixed once more, but for some reason he could not bring himself to start up, he simply could not take responsibility for renting the air with the roar of his engine.

He did not have to.

The sounds of war came back to assault his ears with their merciless destruction and the skies lit up again.

Christmas was over so he started up his engine to rise once more into the air. The wind whipped around him as he climbed for height and as it passed his face it took a few salty drops with it to the muddy ground.

When he landed back home he found Biggles waiting for him with a worried look on his face and a loud welcome to let him know he had been missed. They laughed heartily to cover the fear they had felt when he had not returned when he should and frowned over his quietness.

Algy could not explain it but the way he had felt when he had stood there beside his plane was something he had never thought to experience and he felt like he could never explain it to anyone. How could they understand what it had been like, how could anyone? He could not even make head nor tail of it himself. Yet he did not have to, Biggles simply stood there, watching him with that curious hint of a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

He seemed to know though, although there was no way that he could have.

Then again Biggles had been there for a long time now, so perhaps he did. At least he understood the strange mood of his cousin and friend and he did not press him about what had occurred. Rather he stood beside him, put a cigarette that he did not light between his lips and gazed across the darkness with Algy.

Neither one of them spoke as long as they stood there and eventually Biggles patted Algy's shoulder before they both went inside to seek out their beds.

Whatever had transpired out in the Christmas night the sun would carry with it another day as it rose across the sky, and they had no option but to be ready for what it would bring with it.

Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright

The End

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