This is Tsuki checking into the Rise of the Guardians madness, not only because she is struck by the absolute wonder that is Chris Pine (James T. Kirk and now Jack Frost?! *swoons*) but also because there is something awe-inspiring about a story that can make anyone believe in childhood dreams again. I am officially a fangirl, now and forever.
All characters belong to William Joyce with the exception of Gail, who belongs to himself.
26 June 1948 (0900 CET)
"North, we have to do something," Tooth quietly said. The Tooth Fairy's wings fluttered nervously behind her, though her feet were planted firmly on the floor of the workshop.
The past three decades of almost constant war had been difficult on all four of the Guardians, as violence and rationing became a constant reality across Europe, the U.S. and some of Asia. Children's lights flickered constantly all around the globe, and there was little they could do to help it. Poland had gone momentarily dark nationwide, as had many countries during the harshest battles and blitzkriegs. The French border with Germany was darker than the rest of Europe, not as children ceased to believe, but as they fled with their families. All the Guardians could do as lights slowly died was hope that they were because a child had stopped believing, not as a result of their deaths.
Tooth had been unable to deliver coins to the children of occupied countries, for these children didn't lose teeth from natural causes, nor did they put them under their pillows at night. Some of these children didn't even have pillows, using their parents or each other as comfort. Many of her fairies had come back with tears slipping down their cheeks, latching on to her arms and squeaking out the desolation and empty eyes they had seen on the children. There were few times she desired to go into the field herself, but even rarer had she ever been so glad to be too busy to do so.
Sandy struggled to overcome the children's natural fears, and too often when the children went to sleep, they never woke up. One of the first times he had encountered Jack Frost outside the teenager's preferred town of Burgess was at the end of a death march in Poland. He had been following his sand to a wavering child. The boy was waking, but in this cold so far from the rest of the group, it would be more merciful to let him sleep through the end. This night, Sandy had known he would be making many such stops. It was to his surprise that he found the child in the arms of another teenager, dressed almost as shabbily for the cold as the boy was. The teenager was running through snow that climbed midway up his thighs, tears freezing on his pale cheeks, yelling over the wind at the child to wake up. Sandy had recognized him once he realized that the white hair wasn't a result of heavy snow cover. Settling in a cloud of sand above the snow, he'd stood in Jack's path, trying to tell him with the images forming above his head that the child couldn't be helped at this point. Jack had blamed himself for every life lost to that winter and every terrible winter, and Sandy had learned that while the teenager was indeed in control of winter, he didn't have the sheer will or ability to go against the natural course of nature. He couldn't even keep a child stuck in the near-blizzard weather warm in his chilly embrace. The Sandman suspected that the harsh snows and winds that drove the German forces back from Russia weren't entirely coincidental.
Bunny and North had struggled through their holidays, bringing every bit of hope and wonder that they could manage and keeping the children innocent another year longer. They reported mixed amounts of success upon their returns. North had resorted to simpler toys for some of the children in occupied cities, ones that might last through the difficult year so that they could hold on to them constantly. In many cases, he brought warm, woven blankets in addition. Bunny had to change up some of his agenda - placing decorated eggs indoors and small chocolates under pillows - so they wouldn't have to venture out into the cold or stumble across an irate patrolling officer.
As this recent war came to a close, the American lights steadied and increased again, Europe and Asia progressing slowly. Japan had been more difficult. The back-to-back 1945 nuclear bombings had wiped out whole circles of light. Rebuilding and healing would only come with time.
But Germany was a different story. During the war, the German children were kept distant from the bloodshed despite sitting in the middle of war torn Europe. They believed and they flourished as only the innocent could. It was the division of Germany that finally ruptured that belief. While East Germany wavered only for a few months, West Germany appeared to be on the verge of another war. With the finale of World War II, the Cold War had begun. Since then, West Germany had begun a steady decline into darkness.
Easter had been difficult this year, and Bunny had said just as much the day after. However, it had been considerably better than during years of war. Many cities had gone through with the tradition, taking a day off from rebuilding, and he had been there to watch their hope light up on the occasion. The parents had watched with weary smiles, and he wished that he could have been believed in by them if only so he could have comforted them, to tell them that the worst was finally past. This was not the case, so he resigned himself to patting the heads of the small children, handing out a little extra chocolate. West Germany was harder, with the city trembling over fears of a Communist takeover.
Bunny stood next to Tooth, the two uncertain what they could do as they waited for North's advice. The Man in the Moon had gone largely silent, as he often did in circumstances of human conflict. It was his quiet way of saying that some things they had to remain neutral in. The Guardians were there for all the children, not one side or another.
North considered the globe in front of him. He had been so glad to see the lights glow brighter as news of the war's end had spread, but it had been a short-lived joy. Now he was watching the children of West Germany and wondering what he could do for them in the six months before Christmas, his time to shine and invoke once again the innocent wonder that was so important in childhood. "I don't know," he finally admitted, tearing his eyes away from the flickering lights that tore at his heart. It appeared that this century would be one of war, World War I giving way to the Second World War, which had been ended only to flare anew between the Soviet Union and the western world. Childhood ended early as soldiers were recruited at younger and younger ages.
As the three stood conflicted in North's unusually quiet workshop, they didn't even note Sandy's absence. The Sandman spent many nights battling Pitch who, while still weak since his defeat in the Dark Ages, was growing more and more ominous with each passing conflict. The Spanish Inquisition and French Revolution had only been the start. Sandy assured them that Pitch was still no problem for him to handle alone, but he had his own reservations on the immortal's growing power.
Shaking his head, North was about to head back to his yetis to finish preparations for this Christmas when Tooth let out a happy shout. He turned abruptly, nearly tripping over an elf in the process, to see her dart up to the top of the globe, wings flittering so fast that they blurred to near-invisibility. She pointed at West Germany, where lights in Berlin, where the globe had been darkest, were suddenly flooding back to life. "Rimsky-Korsakov," he swore. "What is happening?"
"I dunno, mate," Bunny murmured, "but that is the most beautiful thing I have seen in a long time."
[Five minutes earlier…]
"You know we could get in so much trouble for this."
"Umm, no. You could get in a lot of trouble. I'm invisible to everyone else."
"That's true…" The Utah-born pilot was far from reconsidering their plan, despite his words. He was more concerned about the teenager who was insistent on riding on top of his C-47. Though said teenager was undeterred by things that would concern most people - shoes, seat belts, courtesy, rules, safety, heights, gravity - he was still a boy more than a decade younger than him. Most people took that into advisement. Jack blew it off like a bad joke.
"And if anything goes wrong, I can just grab on to one of your wings. They're like handrails!"
The pilot sighed, finishing his pre-flight check. He had to fly out of Berlin in the next couple minutes regardless, and Jack really was just hitchhiking in all technicality so why not? "You said you're hopping off after you're finished?"
"Yep. It's a little toasty down there, but I can at least toss a couple cool breezes their way to help. Might even confuse them with some short-lived snowflakes." The teenager snickered, clearly having experience in such feats. "I'd meet you back in the U.S., but it's even hotter there. Might melt if I'm not careful."
He rolled his eyes. The teenager never aged and never matured. It was a parent's worst nightmare. Still, he couldn't help but think of the kids he had split his remaining sticks of mint gum with. He had promised them a repeat visit, and this would be even better than walking out with the full package of gum sticks that he had originally intended on handing out. This was more…fun. The kids would love it.
Looking out on his wing, he gave a wry smile and final wave to the white-haired winter sprite sitting on the very edge with his bag ready to go. Jack shot him a thumbs-up in return, a wide grin already present. This was going to be fun, he thought again. He might have turned twenty-eight months ago, but being in the presence of the ever-laughing Jack Frost brought back that childhood spirit he remembered from his youth. His parents had always said that he was a child at heart, and for the first time he was truly realizing that.
As the pair soared over West Berlin, Gail Halvorsen wiggled the wings of his plane in a simple exercise of flight mechanics and Jack Frost let dozens of cloth parachutes go, each one tightly tied to a package of candy. Even from this altitude, Jack could see the smiles and laughs infecting the children on the ground below. They raised their hands to the sky, trying to catch the precious and anticipated packages. Jack laughed as he reached into the bag to let another two rounds loose before giving Gail two thumbs up again and shouting "SUCCESS!"
Jack jumped off with the now empty sack, waving the icy shepherd's crook in his hand as the winds seemed to change direction to catch him in their grasp. The young sprite would be hopping on his return flight next week with another full bag of candy, but for now he seemed content to watch the kids giggle and smear chocolate on their faces down on the streets below with a happy sigh.
Gail chuckled, returning his attention to his dash and the clear blue, summer sky in front of him. Maybe he could convince some of the other guys working the airlift into Berlin to toss some candy from their planes as well. It was worth a try if it got more kids to smile when he saw them.
And so Gail "Uncle Wiggly Wings" Halvorsen unintentionally created the Rosinenbomberby, the candy bombers, and one of the greatest propaganda successes seen in West Germany during the Cold War.
On the other hand, Jack Frost, the not-yet Guardian of Fun, gave the children of West Germany a reason to laugh.
A/N: Yes, the candy bombers (eventually called Operation Little Vittles as their candy drops gained international attention) were real, and Gail Halvorsen's story is all true. The man, now 92, is never without a huge smile or helping hand to offer. Before his famous drops, Gail gave the children outside his base small treats, promising that if they shared he would come back with more. I swear that this wonderful guy must be a relative of Jack.
