The occupation of Germany in the first couple of years after World War II were very difficult. People in many places were constantly hungry, clean water wasn't always available, and coal for heat wasn't always to be had. Medical supplies weren't available everywhere, the roads and railroads were a mess, and electricity and telephone service took a long time to get turned back on in many parts of the country. It took many years before the country was returned to what could be called "normal."

Complicating matters, our "ally" Stalin had seized about a third of Germany, which became known as East Germany. The Western allies (the UK, France, and the USA) held the rest of the country, which became known as West Germany. However, due to diplomatic wrangling, the Western forces held about half of the capital city, Berlin. So Germany basically looked like this:

That's right. Berlin was about a hundred miles deep into Stalin's Germany, but the free world still had possession of half of that one city. Stalin's troops would often shoot at people who ran to what became known as the "American sector" of Berlin. But many people took the risk and ran there anyway. Meanwhile, to keep the free part of Berlin alive, the West used the railroads and the roads to keep people supplied with food, coal, and other supplies.

Stalin found this intolerable, and found excuses to cut off the railway and road access that had been negotiated after the war. It was a loophole: the allies had access to the roads and the rails, but if the rails and roads were destroyed, how could they get there?

Once Stalin did this, the people of Berlin were faced with a stark choice: starve, freeze to death in the winter, or capitulate to Stalin. To make it enticing, Stalin offered them free food and coal and shelter. But countless Germans refused to leave the free part of Berlin.

In the West, a different loophole was found. The treaty had allowed limited access by road, by rail, and by three narrowly-defined air corridors. Stalin destroyed the roads and the rail lines, but how could he destroy the air corridors?

He couldn't.

It's difficult for people today to fully appreciate what a massive undertaking it was to supply a city entirely by air. Today, in 2003, it would be difficult to supply a city with everything it needed entirely by air, with no trucks or railroads to help with the burden. In that day, it was a truly incredible proposition. Airplanes were much smaller, and harder to come by. But, God Bless Harry Truman and the allies in the West: it was resolved to keep the free sector of Berlin supplied with food, coal, medical supplies, and material goods strictly by air. For well over a year, even through a very harsh winter, the West kept the people of free Berlin fed, clothed, and supplied with coal for heat.

It was a very tough time to be a Berliner: the rations were often as little as a thousand calories per day for an adult, and the coal for heat was often barely enough to stave off dying of exposure. But for 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, for well over a year, the allies kept the people of Berlin alive by air. The people of Berlin lived as best they could, in order that part of Berlin might remain free. After more than a year of this, Stalin capitulated, and allowed the roads and the railways to open again to the West.

The full story of The Berlin Airlift would take more than one book to describe. The Berlin Airlift Veteran's Association still exists, to honor the memory of the veterans of that valiant effort who are gone now, and to treasure those who are still with us. Those men often flew 14, 16, 18 hour days, day after day, just to keep the freedom--and the hope--of the people of Berlin alive.

But what I want to tell you about now is one particular part of the story of the Berlin Airlift. One of the GIs (Air Force men, forgive me: they called us all GIs back then, even when many of you were Marines and Airmen) was a man known as Lt. Gail S. Halvorsen. A flier in the Berlin Airlift, he often stopped over for brief breaks within Berlin. And, s is so often the case where American GIs find themselves around the world, he more than once found himself surrounded by children who hoped he'd share the chewing gum and chocolate bars that so often accompany American servicemen.

So what did he do? He did just what American GIs who have the guts to mix with the locals always do. He broke out what he had and passed it out to the kids as best he could. The children who lived near the air base started to look for him. He found himself, every time he visited, confronted with more and still more children who knew he'd share with them.

You must understand: these children were hungry. I did not exaggerate when I said that during the most harrowing parts of the airlift, the ration for every person in Berlin, man, woman, or child, was as little as a thousand calories per day. Today, if a doctor wants an adult woman to lose weight fairly quickly, he usually puts her on a 1,200 calorie per day diet. A man, perhaps 1,500. Children need much more, because they're growing.

A cup of instant noodle soup I just pulled out of my cubboard has 300 calories. Ponder that for a moment.

These were hungry children. They were children who, when they did eat, had little but what could be made with powered milk, powdered eggs, flour, and water. Perhaps a bit of spam, canned beef, or canned chicken, now and then. If lucky, a little sugar. If very lucky, a bit of flavored jelly.

But the GIs, they had bubble gum. They had Hershey bars.

Honestly now: Can you imagine a greater treasure in all the world?

So Halvorsen often found himself mixing with the locals, and the children always came looking for him. Far more than he could handle. His buddies gave him their chocolate and gum rations, and he passed that out too. But the crowds were bigger than he could handle. So he made a deal with the children: he would drop chocolate bars and chewing gum from his plane when he came flying in, which he did a few times a day. Those who could catch the treats could have them, although he hoped they'd share.

To make sure the treats wouldn't shatter and spatter on the ground, he fashioned little parachutes made from handkerchiefs and string to drop out of the plane. This was a double treat, because the handkerchiefs could be fashioned by the kids' families into rudimentary clothing and blankets and such, to help keep warm.

His flying mates helped him with this task, just as they shared their rations. He would tell the children that they'd know him when he came flying in to drop treats on them: he would wiggle his plane's wings. As his plane would come in to drop off flour, powdered milk and eggs, and coal, he would wiggle his plane's wings and drop the treats. The children always knew it would be him, for his plane's wings would wiggle just before the parachutes full of treasure began to drop.

Do you know what the children started to call him? Uncle Wiggle Wings.

Eventually, the children came to see that Uncle Wiggle Wings had more than one airplane. How? Because air crews throughout the Berlin Airlift, British and American alike, began to emulate the first Uncle Wiggle Wings, and service men from both great nations began to drop their dessert rations and handkerchiefs upon the children of Berlin. Eventually, this part of the Airlift took on a life of its own, as children (and candy companies) across the USA and the UK began to contribute to what Halverson eventually dubbed "Operation Little Vittles." Most air crews that flew into Berlin did "candy bomb" runs over Berlin on at least a semi-regular basis.

All this lasted until Stalin, out of frustration, finally ended the blockade, and allowed road and rail access to West Berlin again.

I like to think that when the Berlin Wall finally came down in 1989, Gail Halverson had a huge smile of shock and delight his face. Because he was alive to see it, you know. Indeed, the last I heard, he was still alive and well and living in Utah.

Oh, and by the way: I am not making up or exaggerating a single word of any of this. Not a bit of poetic license in any of it, either. It's just what happened.

Not a lot of people know this story. But I do. Now, so do you. Now I ask you to imagine my surprise when I found out that a man calling himself Chief Wiggles is collecting toys, candy, toothbrushes, and other sundries for Iraqi children.

Well. By whatever powers I have, I hereby dub him "The New Uncle Wiggle Wings."

Or, how about just this for short? Uncle Wiggles.

Well, why the hell not?

In any case, please get your butt over there to help out. I've sent some mail to Chief "Uncle" Wiggles and some other bloggers. We're hoping to set up a weblog button campaign and web page to help promote this in any way we can. If he'll let us.

Anyone else want to help?