War in Space, 1939 – III: “Space War Tactics” in Astounding Science Fiction, by Malcolm Jameson and Willy Ley (1939) – Readers Respond

The appearance of Willy Ley and Malcolm Jameson’s articles about Space War in the August and November issues of Astounding Science Fiction for 1939, generated – unsurprisingly – a small fusillade of laudatory comment in the magazine in its issues of October and December, 1939, and May of 1940.  The contributors were Thomas S. Gardner of Kingsport, Tennessee; A. Arthur Smith of Ontario, Canada; J.M. Cripps of Manhattan, Kansas; James S. Avery of Skowhegan, Maine, as well as Jameson and Ley themselves, in the October and May issues, respectively.    

In the October issue, reader Gardner gives his evaluation of the literary merits of the August, 1939 issue, and follows with agreement about Ley’s article, albeit suggesting that “rays” might be safer weapons than projectiles, albeit not explaining how.  Malcolm Jameson’s letter provides insight into his career in the Navy.  Then, he segues into the “core” of his own article, which pertained to locating, tracking, and aiming at an enemy spacecraft.  He also addresses the technology of guns, or more accurately, cannon, in terms of the weight (mass) of the gun itself, qualifying this with the realization that his comments pertain to guns in terrestrial conditions, not space.

Reader Cripps, in the December Astounding, turns out to be an advocate of “rays”, under the proviso that, “if you [Willy ley] admit-their scientifictional credibility, it won’t strain you too much to realize that there is just a possibility that those same projectors might not be either so weak or so sensitive to shaking or jarring as you seem to think.”  He premises this on the assumption that spacecraft can be propelled – be powered and reach escape velocity; leave a planet’s gravity well – solely by means of “ray projectors”, rather than, “the sort of chemical rocket that can he designed today.”  In this context, he suggests that energy released from a cyclotron could be transformed into electricity and then projected into space via a “ray generator” or “refractory projector”, without (!) expanding onto how said generator or projector is specifically to function. 

Well, feasible or not, it’s interesting to think about!   

As for addressing Willy Ley as “Herr Ley”?  Whether that is a sign of respect, or something else again, will remain unknown…

In the issue of May, 1940, reader Avery’s comments parallel those of Gardner in 1939, addressing the magazine’s literary content, and positing a question concerning Jameson’s analysis of a spacecraft versus spacecraft battle.  Then, Willy Ley explains his advocacy of guns versus “torpedoes”, by focusing on the suitability of 37 and 75mm canon, specifically in terms of the weight of the former.  As for the “37”, “…that they are effective enough has meantime been demonstrated by the new 37-millimeter anti-tank guns of the U.S. army that “disintegrated” 1 ½-inch steel armor plate at a thousand yards without a moment’s hesitation.  That 1,000 yard range means, of course, in air – for space conditions it might safely be multiplied by a hundred or even more.”  Perhaps so for space warfare.  However, in terms of (terrestrial!) anti-tank combat, while the 37mm (M3) gun was a suitable weapon against pre-war tank designs, Japanese tanks throughout the war (in a general sense), and light (including German) German armored vehicles, it was not an effective weapon against the Panzer IV and later German tanks.  

Anyway, to liven things up a little bit, included are images of the covers of the relevant issues of Astounding, those for October, 1939 and May, 1940, having been found on the Internet.  There is also a lovely piece of black & white interior art, I’m certain by Henry Richard Van Dongen.     

Astounding Science Fiction

October, 1939 (pp. 154-160)

Malcolm Jameson plans to expand on Ley’s ballistics!

Dear Mr. Campbell:

I regret to have to give Astounding Stories a very good rating for the August, 1939, issue.  I repeat, I regret, because it is very difficult to keep up such a high standard as Astounding has been setting for the past six months.  I am afraid that I will be disappointed one of these issues — although I know that you will do every-thing to prevent such a catastrophe.  Now to business:

Cover – good.  It strikes a note of action and force.  I like the contrasting reds and darker colors.

Your little editorials are quite Interesting – in spite of the fact that sometimes I do not always agree.   However, this month we agree.

“General Swamp, C.I.C.”  Quite a good and logical story – parallels the American Revolution.  Your characters are well drawn, and I am glad to see the individualism shown, for it is passing out in America now.  Of course, it is harder to fight a war with people who are free individuals – as we found out in 1776.

“The Luck of Ignatz” – A good character, I should like to see more of this character.

“The Blue Giraffe” – Humor can be used well in s-f. and de Camp handles it best of any that I have seen.

“Pleasure Trove” – The type of story that made old Astounding under Clayton liked – scientales with a punch.  Thanks for the breathing spell from the heavy stuff.

“Heavy Planet” – Good.  A logical and well-handled situation.

“Life-Line” – Very plausible and better on the second reading.  The doctor didn’t completely believe his own theory and proof until he failed to save the young couple – then he knew that his own time was about up and he couldn’t change the future.  That was cleverly put in the story.

“Stowaway” – Fairly good story and a good poke of fun at Earthlings.

“An Ultimatum from Mars” – The best of Cummings that I have seen in a long time.

“Space War” – Fine.  Willy Ley sure knows his engineering and some ballistics.  The article was the best of its type for some time.  He is dead right – guns are going to be really tough to handle in free space.  The trouble is in hitting the object – a whole new science of ballistics will have to be worked out – something like the multiple body problem on a small scale.

Tell Ley that rays might be safer – it they are developed on a large scale due to their spreading – for space around a battle will be uninhabitable for long distances due to unexploded bombs, et cetera.  Of course, the h.e. shells will travel far away if they don’t hit.

Inside Illustrations – I still like them O.K.

General make-up was O.K.  So you see why I regret to have to give it such a good rating – for can yon repeat next month?  I hope so. – Thomas S. Gardner, P.O. Box 802, Kingsport, Tennessee.

SCIENCE DISCUSSIONS

Malcolm Jameson is one of the country’s few real experts on really heavy guns.

Dear Mr. Campbell:

Up to now I have been one of the most inarticulate of your contributors, but Willy Ley’s “Space War” in the August Astounding, is like smoke in the nostrils of an old fire-horse – it starts me itching to hop into the ring with him for an unlimited bout where we can hurl back and forth the fascinating facts of ballistics – both interior and exterior – and drag in that other science that utilizes both of them and some other things – Fire-Control.  Ordinarily, I approach your science articles with a good deal of deference and with appropriate modesty, but when anybody starts writing about ordnance he is on ground where I think I know my way around.  It happens that I spent eight or nine of the best years of my life where ordnance was being designed, manufactured, tested and used – in gun factory and laboratory, at proving grounds and on warships, both in peace and war, and in the field with troops.  So if I make bold to comment: on Mr. Ley’s article, it is because I feel that I am competent to do so.

Not that I mean to imply I have fault to find with it.  On the contrary, I am all for him – barring a few minor points.  I like his demolition of the heat-gun and ray-screen doctrines, and the way he sails into other fantastic gadgets.  I am in thorough accord with his choice of propelled explosives as the most probably final weapon of future warfare.  My chief criticism is that he did not go far enough.  He tells us what projectiles will do to the hostile ship, but not how to find it and hit it.  The problem of finding the enemy and maintaining contact long enough to hit him, considering the stupendous reaches of the void and the colossal speeds involved, seems to me to transcend all other considerations.  But then, that is the subject matter for another article entirely.

It occurs to me, however, that readers of Astounding may be interested in some expansion of several of the things Mr. Ley mentions; and also I would like to take issue with him as to one or two of his statements.  Merely to list and briefly describe the many known factors that enter into gunnery would require pages, so I will confine myself to a few of those touched on in the article.

He spoke of the retarding effect of the air in the rifle bore ahead of the projectile.  I can cite an instance that illustrates that beautifully and it won’t be necessary to swamp you with graphs, formulae or statistics.  When the battleship Mississippi went into commission, Dr. Curtis of the physics department of the Bureau of Standards was one of the experts who went with us to Cuba to hold her experimental battery tests.  Among other things, he desired to measure muzzle velocity under shipboard conditions.  M.V. determination up to that time had been done only at the Proving Ground where it was possible to fire the shell through two successive screens hung in front of the gun.

Dr. Curtis rigged two metallic fingers at the muzzle of the gun, protruding slightly above the bottom of the rifling grooves, and also stretched a wire across the bore opening.  These were parts of two electrical circuits, each hooked up to oscillographs.  The idea was that the nose of the emerging shell would break the wire, thus interrupting one current, and that the bourrelet, or rotating hand, would wipe the fingers and complete the circuit of the other, thus producing two wiggles on the oscillograph tracing.  He knew, of course, the exact distance from the shell-top to the lending edge of the bourrelet

The first readings were absurdly low and Dr. Curtis correctly guessed that it was because the outrushing air had broken his wire before the shell got there.  He put in heavier wire.  Then a steel rod.  Believe It or not, it was not until he had worked up to an iron bar, of something like 3/8 of an inch by a couple of inches, set edgewise like a girder across the opening, that he found something that would stay there until the projectile emerged.  Even at that he had trouble with its fastenings.  Some breeze!

I note Mr. Ley’s complaint that designers simply do not pay attention to weight unless the question of transport is involved.  I assure him he Is quite mistaken.  If the guns of a battleship could be reduced in weight by so little as five per cent, it would mean the saving of many tons which could well be utilized for other purposes.  Actually, other characteristics of the gun being equal, gun weights have steadily declined – due chiefly to improvements In steel-making processes, notably heat treatment.  Presumably, the trend will continue as better methods and stronger alloys are found.

The reason for the present weight of guns is stark necessity.  It takes a lot of metal to withstand a suddenly applied force of upward of twenty tons to the square inch.  When he says that reducing the thickness of gun barrels shortens their service life, he is dead right.  It shortens it all right – is likely to cut it down to one terrific and fatal blast.  If he had had the opportunity as I had, of seeing many ruptured field guns lying on Southampton dock during 1917, he would not think the factor of safety overstressed.

As to the difference in thickness between a worn-out gun and a new one, it is almost imperceptible to the untrained eye.  Gunners keep a careful record of the number of rounds fired and star-gauge their guns often, for that is the only way they can keep track of the erosion.  A worn bore, and the wear may not exceed the thickness of this sheet of paper, permits the powder gases to escape past the projectile, thereby seriously reducing its velocity.  It also fends to promote wobble in flight.

In the vicinity of the breech not only are the pressures greater, but the temperatures are terrifically high, and I suspect that the lining of the powder chamber and the face of the breech-plug is for a moment In a virtually molten condition.  I witnessed a blowback once, through an infinitesimal hairline scratch on the seat of the gas-check seal.  It was a brand-new 14” gun under proof and the breech of it was ruined.  The gases escaping through that little hole blew I the metal out in a line spray, like butter under a blow torch.  Of course, the speed of the leaking gases added vastly to the damage, but it must be hot in there.

I doubt very much whether a strictly non-recoiling gun is possible.  The recoil begins much earlier than most people Imagine – shortly after the projectile has started moving within the barrel.

In regard to the “optimum” elevation of 45 degrees, I might say that that is the elevation that theoretically gives the maximum range.  I have seen heavy guns fired all the way up to fifty degrees, but there is little gain in range after the upper thirties, and a progressively greater loss of control.  The famous German long-range gun could only be effective against a target as large as the city of Paris.  Hitting somewhere within a ten-mile circle is not an artilleryman’s notion of marksmanship.

As to streamlining, that has been tried but is not practicable for several reasons.  However, that does not mean that the shape of the shell is unimportant.  The “coefficient of form” is an important one; long-pointed shells travel farther than short blunt ones.  Armor-piercing projectiles that have to be stubby are equipped with false noses for that reason.

Of course, I realize that all this quibbling is about Earthly conditions and is not very applicable to what happens in the void.  I am writing only because It may be of interest to our fans.  As to the extension of Space Warfare to take in such matters as scouting, range finding, tracking and spotting, I am very much tempted to break out as an article writer myself.  Then Mr. Ley can slip in a new ribbon and do a little sniping of his own. – Malcolm Jameson, 519 West 147th Street, New York, N.Y.

Maybe you can use rays, at that!

Dear Mr. Campbell:

I want to make a few comments about the August number of Astounding.

First point is Willy Ley’s article on the weapons of space combat.  Frankly, I’ll still stick to the flaming rays and scintillating screens; Mr. Ley’s argument against them starts off with a bit of a self-contradiction.  On page 74 he states: “That they (ray projectors) do not exist now is immaterial; science-fiction is not only concerned with things that are, but also with things that might be.”  And forthwith proceeds to argue them out of existence on the grounds that the equipment necessary to produce them would be so ponderous compared with present-day artillery as to make them impracticable.  Come, come, Mr. Ley!  Surely, if you admit-their scientifictional credibility, it won’t strain you too much to realize that there is just a possibility that those same projectors might not be either so weak or so sensitive to shaking or jarring as you seem to think.

You say the projector would need a power plant, and “power plants are notoriously heavy.”  O.K.  But it also appears to me that even an unarmed ship might need a fair-sized set of generators just to lift it into space; unless, of course, you insist on limiting the poor writer to the sort of chemical rocket that can he designed today.

You say that the ray generator would be sensitive, “since we have to assume tubes of some kind.”  Do we, now?  Let’s try a spot of assuming, and see what sort of power plant and ray projector we can dream up, even without going too far beyond our present scientific knowledge.

Power plant first.  Suppose we make it an atomic energy set-up, using the fission of uranium 235 under neutron bombardment.  We’ll need a source of neutrons to start off that reaction.  Cyclotron, perhaps, since you seem to like a heavy power plant; though I think that with U-235 a simple, light, insensitive radioactive source might work as well.  A cyclotron would have tubes to go out during an engagement, all right, but we needn’t worry about that; we’ll just use it to touch off the process at the start, and keep steam up afterward, since the reaction is self-perpetuating.  Probably need a direct hit now to put that job out of action.

Ray projector?  Well, I suppose we could turn the released energy into electricity, to be later transformed into some deadly radiation In a delicate ray generator.  It seems to me that a stream of those 200-million-volt atomic nuclei given off by disintegrating uranium, and released in the general direction of the enemy through refractory projectors would be just as deadly and a lot simpler.  That question of refractories Is a delicate one, I admit; but we’ll need them, anyway, for the power plant, so let’s not strain at gnats while swallowing camels.

Do I hear an objection from Mr. Ley?  “If there is an insulating material that holds out against the energies released at the giving end, it is hard to understand why the same insulator should not be usable to safeguard the bull of the ship that is being rayed.”

Same answer as to the question : Why not armor-plate the ship against solid and explosive projectiles from Mr. Ley’s heavy artillery?  Too heavy; and, perhaps, a whole lot more expensive than even the best nickel-steel armor.  But if you insist, I’ll make my ship invulnerable to ray attack; only you’ve got to reciprocate, and turn yours into a flying fort, complete with 30-inch plate all round.

This begins to look like stalemate.  So let’s compromise; fit out our warships of space with both rays and guns, ray screens, insulation, and armor-plate, and see what new forms of deviltry the boys can think up with that equipment.

It should be interesting. – A. Arthur Smith, 131 Aqueduct Street, Welland, Ontario, Canada.

Astounding Science Fiction

December, 1939 (p. 108)

To the defense of rays.

Dear Sir:

As a rule, your stories are good and your articles better; the article entitled “Space War,” by Wily Ley, is however, the exception that proves the rule.

Before I attempt to back up the above statement, perhaps I had better give my qualifications.  I have some sixty-odd hours of college chemistry, twenty-two hours of college physics, and thirty-four hours of college math.  I spent three years in the National Guard attached to a battery of 155 mm guns.

I am too lazy to attempt to check Herr Ley on his statements of armor weight, gun weight, et cetera, but they seem reasonable, so I will allow them to stand without argument – they would probably stand, anyway.

Taking up Herr Ley’s arguments in order, I wonder if it ever occurred to him that it would require quite a good power plant to lift a “fair-sized spaceship, about ninety yards long and twenty yards in diameter,” from the surface of the earth and then set it gently down again?  It seems to me that the weight of the mechanism required to divert part of this power from drive to ray generator would not be prohibitive.  Vacuum-tubes are delicate, but could be made stronger if necessary, and, if not, I believe would rather risk having a tube blow during the course of a battle and leave me without effective weapons than to have an enemy shell land in the ship’s magazine.

He kindly granted the possibility of dangerous rays and then stated that he did not believe they could be developed in the near future.  Micro-waves – radio – from 30 cm. down in wave length would be quite disconcerting if there were some 50,000 watts being fed into them.  You see, they are picked up by a metallic conductor as heat.  They may not be what the science-fiction author has in mind when he refers to heat rays, but they’ll work quite nicely, I believe, and they focus into the neatest tight beam.  As for ray shields, there is always heterodyning.

As to the impossibility of “holding a ray on a fast-moving distant target, that might be practically invisible with black paint against the background of black space,” just how many men could hit a black disk twenty yards in diameter on a dark night such a range and moving with such a velocity that a searchlight – just another ray – could not hold it?

In space a heat ray is an accumulative affair in that heat is dissipated only by radiation, which is a notoriously slow process at ordinary – 0-200 C-temperatures.  This would mean that the heat ray would not have to be held on the target.

As for the disadvantages of guns, Herr Ley has neglected to mention that in warfare on earth, when a heavy gun is firing at a target the gun is relatively motionless with respect to the target.  This simplifies aiming considerably.  Dog fights between planes are never long-range affairs because of their relative velocities.  Going back to ground fighting, however, a miss of twenty yards or so is as good as a hit because of the bursting range of the shell.  A miss of one cm. in space is as good as if the shell had not been fired.

When Herr Ley advocates the use of 75s in space, it is obvious that he has never been around them when they were fired.  I have, and I wouldn’t care to be in a closed room – even if it were evacuated – with one firing several rounds to the minute.

During the World War gas was used frequently so as to force the men to don gas masks.  The masks cut down the firing efficiency noticeably.  I wonder when effect a space suit would have on accuracy?

The science of exterior and interior ballistics is built around the presence of air and a fairly strong gravitational field.  It would take some time to develop a science of vacuum ballistics.

Reading this over it appears that I have laid the foundations – or destroyed them – for a good way – right here on earth between Herr Ley and me.  I’ll try to prepare myself for his counter-attack, because I don’t believe I destroyed him entirely.  – J.M. Cripps, Manhattan, Kansas

Astounding Science Fiction

May, 1940 (pp. 159-161)

Yes, but who’s going to use a slow spaceship if the enemy has fast ones?

Dear Mr. Campbell:

It seems now that the latest vogue in science-fiction stories is that of rocket-racing, and it is only natural that you should secure the best of that type yet published.  By this, I refer to the clever and well-written “Habit” by Lester del Rey in the November issue.  This excellent little piece has that “certain something” that sets it off as a typically Astounding story.  I honestly believe that were I given an armful of untitled, anonymous, and as yet unpublished manuscripts, I could tell within ninety percent or better which would find refuge in Astounding and which would go to your umpteen competitors.  It’s style, not plot, that makes Astounding the “class magazine” that it is.

May I add a line or two to the rumpus stirred up over the merits of the “General Swamp” serial.  To my mind it ranks with the best of any two-part serial yet published.  Its handling was so uniquely different that it captivated me from the very start.  It was realistic to the point of having me half believe I was reading actual reports and military accounts!  Kick on the hard-to-pronounce names?  Not me! surrounded as I am by left-over handles of the Indian period – Skowhegan, Messalonskee, Norridgewock, Kennebec, Mooselookmeguntick, Cobbseecontee, et cetera.  How does Arkgonactl and Golubhammon compare with these?

Space war articles and letters by Ley and Jameson appeal greatly to me, despite the fact that they hopelessly destroy – and quite logically, too – my pet dreams of flashing ray battles In the void.  But wouldn’t two ships traveling a parallel course at equal or near equal speeds be visible lo one another?  Jameson seems to think not.  Also comes up again the slow-speed spaceship theory that blasts the seven-mile-per-second principle – page 70 of “Space War Tactics” – off the records.  Still, Jameson accepts that, too, … – James S. Avery, 50 Middle Street, Skowhegan, Maine.

SCIENCE DISCUSSIONS

Experts transposed?

Dear. Mr. Campbell:

That the problems of spate war and space war tattles are infested with wide gaps of knowledge and with difficulties of all kinds is proven by one fact: I recommend guns, while an old gunnery expert like Malcolm Jameson prefers rocket torpedoes!  If it were the other way round, nobody would be surprised.

My reasons for recommending guns were already stated in my article “Space War,” the principal one being that guns with ammunition are lighter and less bulky than rocket torpedoes, provided that an appreciable number of rounds is to be carried.  And since my comparison was based on rocket’ torpedoes capable of attaining the same velocity as gun projectiles, I think that the argument is still valid, if the torpedoes were to attain higher speeds they would he still heavier and still bulkier.

Answering first to Mr. Jameson’s letter I hasten to assert that I do not think that the weight of large caliber guns could he reduced very much, unless by the use of new alloys.  I was speaking of small guns, 75 millimeter and less, and I still hold that I am right.  The new anti-tank guns in all armies prove that point; they are much lighter than anything built so far.  (I may add that those of the Swiss army are also equipped with a recoil eliminator.)  And that they are effective enough has meantime been demonstrated by the new 37-millimeter anti-tank guns of the U.S. army that “disintegrated” 1 ½-inch steel armor plate at a thousand yards without a moment’s hesitation.  That 1,000 yard range means, of course, in air – for space conditions it might safely be multiplied by a hundred or even more.

As far as tactics of combat are concerned, I, having neither experience nor theoretical training, have to be quiet.  I cannot help but feel, however, that the tactics of sea or aerial combat do not apply to a very great extent.  We always have to hear in mind that an orbit in space and a course in air or on the high seas are not exactly the same.  Spaceships are not steamers that travel at will, but rather canoes in swift and powerful currents.  These canoes have paddled that permit some movement at will and some steering, and If the “currents” were not as regular and ad calculable as they are the case would be hopeless.

Spaceships, therefore, will either pass each other in opposite directions and at such relative speeds that hardly anything could be done, or else they will follow about the same course and by necessity have about the same velocity.  It is the latter condition I had in mind, and it is in that condition where guns will he advantageous.  Mine laying is, of course, a nice idea, but again I do not quite see why mines should be superior to guns, generally speaking.  Mr. Jameson is trying to do something that is very hard to do when he proposes that the space mines, or iron pellets, should be “shot out of mine-laying tubes clustered about the main drive jets.  They would be shot out at right angles – and given a velocity exactly equal to the ship’s speed, so that they would hang motionless where they were dropped.  The latter does not hold true exactly; the pellets would at once start moving in the general direction of the Sun – If they are exactly motionless it would be the exact direction toward the Sun – but since that movement would he very slow at first and the enemy ship reaches the area of the mine field In a few seconds, that factor can he disregarded.  What bothers me is the problem how the mines could be shot out with a velocity exactly equal to the ship’s speed.  That speed is assumed to be about 20 – 25 miles per second.  Muzzle velocities of guns will be between one and – possibly – one and a half miles per second.  And even the gas molecules in the rocket exhaust do not travel faster than, say, three miles per second.  If a method could be found to shoot the space mines away from the ship with 20-25 miles per second, that method should be applied to throw shells.

Since I have started criticizing other people’s Ideas, I might as well say a few words about Robert Heinlein’s enjoyable story “Misfit.”  Generally speaking, I think that moving an asteroid for the purpose of using it as a station in space is a very wasteful business.  It would take much less fuel to transport building material to the chosen spot in space from Earth or Mars.  An asteroid possesses an awful amount of useless mass that has to be transported, and each pound of mass requires so and so much fuel.  It Is somewhat like moving a large mountain from one continent to another because there is a forest growing on top of the mountain and the larger trees of that forest are to be used to build a raft.

But even if we concede lo the waste of fuel to move the asteroid, there Is no reason to waste more than half of that fuel in giving “88” “a series of gentle pats, always on the side farthest from the Sun.”  What has to be accomplished is to slow down the orbital velocity of the asteroid so that the gravitational attraction of the Sun gets the upper hand and draws it closer.  Which is done most effectively in setting off the rocket charges in such a way that they point “ahead,” at right angles to the line drawn from the asteroid to the Sun.  The resulting movement would be along an elliptical curve – somewhat distorted, to be sure – but not a hyperbolic curve.  And there is no need for such unnecessary accuracy.  If the asteroid should finally possess a few hundred feet of orbital velocity more or less, is really unimportant.  It would make a difference of ten or twenty miles – or even fifty or a hundred – in the average distance from the Sun.  There is no reason why that should matter, just as it does not matter whether an island in the Atlantic Ocean is half a mile farther west or not; it only matters that captains know where It is.  Besides, the orbit of the asteroid could be corrected at any time, if desired.  But I wouldn’t move asteroids at all.

I wish to say “thank you” to Mr. E. Franklin of Jamaica Plain for his nice and interesting letter in the October issue.  The real trouble with articles is that they have to be shorter than the “Gray Lensman.” – Willey Ley, 35-33 20th St., Long Island City, N.Y.

Little Plastic Pieces: Stealth, Stealthier, Stealthiest – Testors’ 1/48 F-19 “Stealth” Fighter Plastic Model Kit, as Reported in The Wall Street Journal – 1986

Here’s an interesting item from the 1980s:  A “first” and probably “only” for The Wall Street Journal:  The newspaper’s 1986 report on the release of Testors’ 1/48 “F-19 Stealth Fighter,” an event which gained the attention of the national media in the context of the (then) novelty of Stealth Technology, the aura of mystery inherent to the classified nature of the actual aircraft (in reality, Lockheed’s F-117 Nighthawk) in use by the United States Air Force as far back as 1983, and in terms of both, the assumption – and an assumption only, it turned out to be! – that a relatively small firm had come up with a “scoop” well ahead of the major news media.  

The Journal’s article included an artist’s rendering of Testors’ F-19, probably based on the kit’s box art, composed in the speckled / shaded style characteristic of illustrations published in the newspaper.  

I do find it interesting that the article took a swipe at the two plastic model companies then preeminent in the United States (again, we’re talking the 1980s): Monogram Models and Revell.  (Unfortunately, Airfix, Tamiya, and Hasegawa weren’t approached for comment.)  “Testors’ competitors aren’t quite so complimentary. “Educated guesswork,” sniffs a spokesman for Monogram Models Inc., the largest military model maker.  Says Thomas West, marketing director of Revell, “I don’t think what Testors did was accurate.”  Despite the not-so-subtle dismissal of those firms’ responses to the release of Testors’ kit, the representatives of Monogram and Revell proved to be entirely correct.  The success of Testors’ F-19 seems to have been the result of fortuitous (or well-planned?) timing and canny marketing, and, a combination of misinformation and disinformation. 

The full text of the Journal article follows below…

Secret ‘Stealth’ Fighter Is a Best-Seller
(In 12-Inch Plastic – Assembly Required)

By BILL RICHARDS

Staff Reporter of THE WALL STREET JOURNAL

The Wall Street Journal
August 21, 1986

There’s no such thing as the F-19 “Stealth” fighter airplane – or so say the people at the Pentagon.

But the F-19 exists.  It’s at the local hobby shop.

Although the design of the radar-evading Stealth is top-secret, Testors Corp. of Rockford, Ill., has somehow managed to produce a 12-inch plastic model of it.  Since its introduction last month, the model has become an instant best-seller.

That’s great for the slumping model airplane industry, but terrible for the Air Force and Lockheed Corp., which builds the real Stealth.  At a recent congressional hearing on leaks of Lockheed documents concerning the Stealth program, Rep. Ronald Wyden waved Testors’ F-19 model in front of embarrassed Lockheed officials and the TV cameras.  If Testors could come up with details of the supersecret Stealth, wondered Mr. Wyden, an Oregon Democrat, could Soviet spies be far behind?

Probably not, says John Andrews, chief model-airplane designer for Testors.  “Once an airplane comes out of the hangar, people find out about it.”  Testors’ model, which Mr. Andrews estimates to be 80% accurate, comes from “bits, pieces, comments and friends you meet and know,” he says cryptically.

Awkward Moments

For Testors, a unit of RPM Inc. of Medina, Ohio, the events of recent weeks have been awkward.  Testors officials squirmed when federal investigations disclosed that hundreds of classified documents were missing from Lockheed’s Stealth program and used Testors’ F-19 to dramatize the leaks.  They were further distressed when a real F-19 crashed on a test run over California last month and several news organizations used Testors’ newly introduced model to illustrate their crash stories.  Then, to top it all off, FBI agents recently visited Testors after another model maker, Revell Corp., was mailed an apparently authentic drawing of Northrop Corp.’s classified Stealth bomber.

Charles Miller, Testors’ president and a former Marine pilot, insists the company isn’t privy to any classified secrets.  “We’re just a little company that made a model of what we think is the F-19,” he says.  “We’ve become an innocent bystander to a swirl of news.”

The flurry of publicity over the F-19 should give both Testors and the model industry some welcome attention.  Military model sales have been in a slump since Vietnam, and the entire model industry declined precipitously in the early 1980s when video arcades began attracting youngsters’ allowance money.

Although other model makers have replicated top-secret weaponry, Testors is especially aggressive in producing cutting-edge aircraft models.  Three years ago, for example, Testors produced a detailed version of Lockheed’s top-secret SR-71 “Blackbird” spy plane.  “We sat on the SR-71 for 10 years,” says David Miller, Testors’ executive vice president, until the company felt confident that the replica was accurate.  Testors officials say they also had detailed information about the U-2 spy plane well before the public had seen it.  And Mr. Andrews was able to take photographs of the A-12, the CIA’s version of the SR-71, while parts of that plane were still officially secret.

One competitor grudgingly calls Mr. Andrews, 53 years old, an “all-star” model designer, especially in the area of state-of-the-art aircraft.  His cluttered office, in an industrial park just north of San Diego, Calif., looks like the lair of a high-tech spy as well as a model builder.  Along with tiny aircraft models, his work tables are littered with satellite photographs of Stealth’s Nevada test site.  Aircraft industry trade journals and technical publications on esoteric subjects like microwave absorption and the fine points of radar transmission are piled around the office.

Mr. Andrews is also well-connected in Southern California’s close-knit aerospace community.  When a group of engineers, pilots and others who worked on the SR-71 gathered for a reunion several years ago, Mr. Andrews was one of the few outsiders invited.

Mr. Andrews says his first clue that Lockheed was getting ready to develop the Stealth fighter came from an item in a trade newsletter in 1976.  The story said Lockheed had recalled the retired chief of its so-called black programs, which involve top-secret aircraft and satellite projects, but gave no details.  Gradually, Mr. Andrews says, he accumulated a folder full of snippets about Stealth.  In 1978 he wrote to the Air Force asking about the project.  “They wrote back and said there wasn’t anything available,” he says.  “That really turned my lights on.”

A short time later Lockheed, in what Mr. Andrews says was an unusual burst of cooperation, allowed him to photograph one of its A-12 spy planes.  He now says the gesture may have been an effort to deflect his interest from Stealth.

It didn’t work.  Testors’ F-19 made its debut last February at a hobby industry trade show in Chicago.  Ironically, Testors managed to keep its own Stealth model so secret-company officials, for example, referred to it by its code name, “Super Tomcat” that few outsiders at the show understood what the company had succeeded in doing.

Mum’s the Word

Mr. Andrews is uncommunicative about some of his sources for the model.  But he acknowledges that one break came from a commercial pilot who got a good look at a Stealth fighter near the Air Force’s test site at Groom Lake, Nev., in 1983.  The pilot, an avid modeler, sent a sketch of what he saw to Mr. Andrews.

Lockheed is equally quiet about Mr. Andrews’s effort.  “He did a very clever thing,” says a spokesman for the aerospace company, declining to speculate on the accuracy of the model.  But, the spokesman adds, “if there is a Stealth fighter, most of the secrets are probably inside the plane anyway.”

However accurate it is, the model seems to have caught on big with one group of fans – Southern California aerospace workers.  Hobby shops near several big test facilities in the region quickly sold out of the F-19 when it went on the shelf last month.  One group of employees from Lockheed’s top-secret “Skunk Works,” which developed the F-19, ordered 100 of the models from the Far West hobby shop in Lancaster, Calif.  “I would assume the model is pretty accurate for that much interest,” says Larry Trumbull, owner of Far West.

Testors’ competitors aren’t quite so complimentary. “Educated guesswork,” sniffs a spokesman for Monogram Models Inc., the largest military model maker.  Says Thomas West, marketing director of Revell, “I don’t think what Testors did was accurate.”

That doesn’t bother Mr. Andrews, who has already moved on to a new interest – UFOs.  “Something is going on,” he says, indicating a thick folder of material he has been collecting on the subject for several years.  Possibly, he says, some UFO sightings were actually glimpses of another new-and very secret-aircraft. “I’m not sure what it looks like yet,” he says, “but if it flies, I’m interested.”

References

Testors F-19 Stealth Fighter 1/48 Plastic Model, at Fantastic Plastic

La aeronave más conocida que jamás existió, el caza stealth F-19 (“The best known aircraft that ever existed, the F-19 stealth fighter”), at No Barrell Rolls (Blog dedicado a aviones prototipos, abandonados o poco conocidos (“A blog dedicated to prototype aircraft, abandoned or little known.”))

“The F-19 stealth fighter: Would it have worked in the real world?”, at HushKit

“10 Fictional ‘Black Jet’ Toys, Models, And Video Games From The 1980s To Today – All I want for Christmas is an F-19 stealth super fighter,” by Brett Tingley, at TheDrive

Testors Corporation, at Wikipedia

Testors Corporation, at WikiMili

Testors Corporation: “So why did Testors exit the plastic kit market?”, at Hyperscale Forums

RPM International, at Wikipedia

– – Behind Paywall – –

Ciotti, Paul (1986-10-19) “Tempest in a Toy Box: The Stealth Fighter Is So Secret the Pentagon Won’t Admit It Exists.  John Andrews Shocked Everyone by Building a Model of It.  To Tell the Truth, He Says, It Wasn’t All That Much Trouble”, Los Angeles Times

War in Space, 1939 – II: “Space War Tactics” in Astounding Science Fiction, by Malcolm Jameson (November, 1939)


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Three months after the appearance of Willy Ley’s article “Space War” in the August, 1939 issue of Astounding Science Fiction, Malcolm Jameson penned (well, in all probability, he typed – remember typewriters?) a follow-up article of similar length and concept, but focused on a different aspect of spacecraft-to-spacecraft combat:  The actual tactics of battle.  Thus, Jameson – perhaps reflective of his background as a naval officer – accords attention to the maneuvers utilized by opposing spacecraft, only later in his article discussing weapons, and unlike Ley, being an advocate of “rocket torpedoes”.

Jameson’s article is supplemented by two diagrams which illustrate the trajectories of opposing spacecraft engaged in combat.  (You can see his signature at the lower right in each.)  In both diagrams – here limited to two dimensions, and viewed from “below” – the track of “our” spacecraft is on the left, and the enemy ship to the right. 

In the first diagram, our craft is on a straight trajectory, with the enemy ship taking an abrupt “right” turn at position “7”, the weapons employed by our spacecraft presumably being rocket-torpedoes. 

In the second diagram, the pair of spacecraft are on a converging trajectory, the weapons being mines as well as rocket-torpedoes.

Paralleling my post about Willy Ley’s article about space war, here are some general “take-aways” from Jameson’s article:

1) Military conflicts, regardless of the era or the nature of weapons employed, can be expected to follow the same general principles.  Thus, though “space” is by nature a setting different from arenas of battle in the traditional sense, the same concepts and assumptions can be expected to hold there, as well.

However, two primary differences stand out:  “Space” differs from taken-for-granted terrestrial settings (any planetary setting, really) in terms of its (apparently limitless) extent, and, the speed of the craft involved.  The implications and challenges of the latter, in terms of even the nominal possibility of maneuver, as well as locating, tracking, aiming, and firing at enemy craft, cannot be underestimated.

2) Given the speed of combat between spacecraft, gunnery computations (like Willy Ley’s August article, Jameson’s analysis is based on the assumption that spacecraft armament will comprise some form of weaponry firing either simple mass weapons or explosive projectiles, rather than an energy weapon of unknown design and function) will demand the use of a “differentia calculator”.  Though he does not elaborate, Jameson seems to have been either anticipating or conceptualizing such a device as ENIAC (Electronic Numerical Integrator and Computer), the existence of which was announced to the public ten months after his death.  

3)  The spacecraft’s armament is simple, whether by the standards of the late ‘thirties or 2021:  The craft shoots projectiles comprised of “a simple sphere of meteoric iron”.  Due to the velocities involved, explosives are entirely unnecessary: The momentum of such a projectile is entirely adequate to damage or destroy an enemy spacecraft.

4) A substantial portion of Jameson’s text – specifically pertaining to Figure 1 – pertains to the manner in which “our” spacecraft will locate, identify, and track the enemy vessel, and, plot a firing trajectory for its weapons.  Here, Jameson description of the craft’s “plotting room,” the “most vital spot in the ship,” seems (unsurprisingly, given his naval background) akin to a description of a battleship or aircraft carrier’s combat information center, “the counterpart of the brain”.    

Then, his essay gets really interesting, for – in the context of describing the tracks of two spacecraft engaged in combat, as diagrammed in Figure 2 – he postulates about the nature of space-borne rangefinders and target-bearing transmitters, suggesting for the former determining distance – “sounding” by radio waves – and the latter something akin to a thermoscope, or simply put, a device showing changes in temperature, against a given background. 

In other words, he seems to have been respectively anticipating both radar, and, what is now known as IRST: Infrared Search and Track.      

5) Interestingly, unlike Willy Ley, Jameson is also an advocate of the use of some form of what he dubs “rocket torpedoes” rather than shells, due to the latter’s “advantage of auto-acceleration” and the “ability to build up speed to any desired value after having been launched,” versus the delay inherent to the sequence of events involved in the the actual firing and movement of a shell from a gun.  Of course, even assuming the enemy vessel is attacked with “rocket torpedoes”, such devices – in the context and era of Jameson’s article – would have no internal guidance or tracking system of their own, their “flight” path being entirely dependent on course adjustments of the firing platform – “our” spacecraft – itself.      

5) Where mentioned, I’ve included conversions of given velocities (“miles per second”) to velocities per hour, in both English and Metric systems, the former in statue miles.  These are denoted by brackets.  (e.g., [90,000 mph / 144,840 kph]).

As in the post covering Ley’s article, the most notable passages of the text are italicized and in red, like these last twelve words in this sentence.  The post concludes with links to a variety of excellent videos covering spacecraft-versus-spacecraft battles, and “space war”, in greater detail, in light of (quite obviously!) contemporary knowledge.   

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You can read the Wikipedia article about Malcolm Jameson here, while the Internet Speculative Fiction Database compilation of his writing can be found here

Jameson’s memorial tribute (I guess penned by John W. Campbell, Jr.?) from the July 1945 issue of Astounding, follows:

MALCOLM JAMESON
December 21, 1891 – April 16, 1945

Malcolm Jameson, a man possessed of more shear courage than most of us will ever understand, died April 16, 1945, after an eight-year writing career, initiated when cancer of the throat forced him to give up the more active life he wanted.  Any author can tell you that you can’t write good stuff when you’re feeling sick.  Jamie never quite understood that – perhaps because he began when he did.  X-ray and radium treatment controlled the cancer for a time, but only at a price of permanent severely bad health.

He sold his first story to Astounding in 1938.  [“Eviction by Isotherm“, August, 1938.]  That was followed by such memorable and sparklingly light stories as “Admiral’s Inspection,” the whole Commander Bullard series, and his many other stories in UNKNOWN WORLDS.

The man who could accomplish that under the conditions imposed on him was not of ordinary mold.

The Commander Bullard series grew out of Jameson’s own experiences as a Lieutenant in the United States Navy from 1916 till his retirement in 1927.  He had much to do with the development of modern naval ordnance; his work is fighting in this war, though he himself was not permitted to do so.

He is survived by his wife, his daughter, Corporal Vida Jameson, of the WAC, his son, Major Malcolm Jameson, in the Infantry and now overseas, and his brother, House Jameson, better known as “Mr. Aldrich” of the “Aldrich Family” program.

The Editor.

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You’ll notice that Hubert Rogers’ iconic depiction of a space fleet control center (for E.E. Smith’s “Gray Lensman”) as the cover of the November, 1939 issue of Astounding, appears below.  Further down in the post are two interior illustrations – from the November, 1941, and February, 1948 issues of Astounding, in which Rogers created views of the same scene for Smith’s “Second Stage Lensman” and “Children of the Lens”, respectively.  (The image of the control center in the 1948 issue was scanned from an original copy, and photoshopifically “niced up” to bring out the details, for this post.)  You can view other images of this nature, and more, at my brother blog, WordsEnvisioned.       

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And so, on to Malcolm Jameson’s “Space War Tactics” from the month of November, in the year 1939…

SPACE WAR TACTICS

Expanding on Willy Ley’s recent article, Jameson brings out some important details – not the least of which is that a space battle fleet gets one shot at the enemy in months of maneuvering!

By Malcolm Jameson

Illustrated by Malcolm Jameson

Astounding Science Fiction
November, 1939

I.

Ship to Ship Engagement

A working knowledge of the game of chess is a useful adjunct in understanding the art of war.  War is not a series of haphazard encounters hut a definite understanding governed by principles that never change, however much the weapons and uniforms and the colors of the flags may.  Like chess it is a continuing struggle between two opponents, each trying to estimate the strength of the other and to divine his purposes and most probable objective, and what his next move will be.  It is a marauding and movement of forces, a series of threats and feints, of advances and withdrawals, punctuated by sharp conflict as one or the other forces the issue.

As the rules of chess govern the movement of each piece, so does the field of operations in war, whether it is rocky terrain or swampy, the open sea or the cloud-streaked skies, or the vast reaches of space itself.  Tactics, and in a measure the weapons, are rigidly determined by the controlling environment.

We can, therefore predict with some assurance the general nature of space warfare, for we already know something of the properties of the void and what characteristics ships that traverse it arc likely to have.  With such ships and in such a theater of operations, we have only to apply the principles of warfare developed by men through centuries of strife to arrive at an approximation of the tactics they will use.  We can be fairly certain of the kind of weapons and instruments they will have, for the very advent of spaceships is presumptive of continued advance in science along much the same lines we have already come.

There are two great factors in space warfare that will set it off sharply from anything else in human experience, and those two factors will modify fighting-ship types, strategy and tactics profoundly. They are: (a) the extent of space, and (b) the tremendous speed of the vessels.

At the risk of boring those who have already read and thought a good deal about travel in space and who feel that they long ago formed a satisfactory idea of what the limitless reaches of the void are like, I want to dwell a moment on the subject of the vastness of space.  It deserves all the emphasis we can give it.

Psychologists assert that it is beyond the capacity of the human mind to conceive of quantities, extents or durations beyond rather close limits.  We may nod understandingly at hearing mention of a billion-dollar appropriation, but we grasp the idea solely because we are thinking of those billion dollars as a unit sum of money.  If we tried to visualize them as coins we would fail utterly.  The mind cannot picture ten hundred thousands of thousands of silver disks.  “Many” is the best it can do – there are too many dollars there for one mindful.  And so it is with distance.

It has been my good fortune to have traveled extensively; I have crossed oceans as navigator, stepping off the miles made good each day or watching them slide by under the counter.  Thus I have a hazy notion of the size of the Earth – it is oppressively huge.  What, then, of the two or three million-mile straightaway covered in a single day’s run of a rocket-ship – represented by a quarter-inch pencil mark on the astragator’s chart of the ecliptic?  The Earth he left but yesterday had already dwindled to a small bright disk and before the week is over it will be seen only as a brilliant blue star.  In that incredibly vast celestial sphere in which lie is floating – stretching as it does without limit before, behind and to every side, above and below – where and how can we hope to find his enemy?

For even if he passed another ship close aboard, he would not so much as glimpse it.  Speeds in space are as stupendous as the spaces they traverse.  Needing seven miles per second to escape the Earth and another twenty to make any reasonable progress between the planets, even the slowest vessels will have speeds of twenty-five miles per second [90,000 mph / 144,840 kph].  Warships. presumably. according to type, will have correspondingly higher speeds – perhaps as high as fifty miles per second [180,000 mph / 289,682 kph … or, 0.000268 c] for the faster scouts.

Speeds of that order are as baffling to the imagination as the depths of the void.  When we recall that the fastest thing most of us are familiar with is the rifle bullet, whizzing along at a lazy half-mile per second [1,800 mph / 2,897 kph], we see that we do have a yardstick.  The ships mentioned above proceed at from fifty to one hundred times that fast – invisible, except under very special circumstances.  It is barely possible, we know, for a quick eye to pick up twelve-inch shells in flight if he knows just where, when and how to look, but a momentary glimpse is all he gets.

When we talk of gunfire or any other means of offense, we have to bear these dizzy speeds firmly in mind.  The conclusion is irresistible that scouting, tracking, range finding and relative bearings will all be observed otherwise than visually.  Even on the assumption of attack from the quarter, the most obvious approach – and for the same reason that aviators “get on the tail” – the overtaking vessel must necessarily have such an excess of speed that the visual contact can last but a few seconds.  Each of the combatants must compute the other’s course from blind bearings and ranges and lay their guns or point their torpedo tubes by means of a differentia calculator.

However, in this blind tracking there is one peculiarity of these ships that while it is in one sense a source of danger to them, is of distinct assistance.  In the fleeting minutes of their contact, neither can appreciably alter course or speed!  This is a point that writers of fiction frequently ignore for the sake of vivid action, but nevertheless it is an unavoidable characteristic of the [e]ther-borne [?!] ship.

The human body can withstand only so much acceleration and the momentum these vessels carry has been built up, hour after hour, by piling increment of speed on top of what had been attained before.  In space there is no resistance.  Once the rockets are cut, the ship will soar on forever at whatever velocity she had at the moment of cutting.  Her master may flip her end over end and reverse his acceleration, but his slowing will be as tedious and cautious as his working up to speed.  Jets flung out at right angles merely add another slight component to the velocity, checking nothing.

Rocket experts have stated that an acceleration of one hundred feet per second per second can be withstood by a human being – perhaps one hundred and fifty in an emergency.  The master of a vessel proceeding at forty miles per second [144,000 mph / 231,745 kph] applying such an acceleration at right angles would succeed in deflecting his flight about one hundred miles by the end of the first minute, during which he will have run twenty-four hundred – a negligible turn, if under fire.  Applied as a direct brake, that hundred miles of decreased velocity would slow him by one twenty-fourth – obviously not worth the doing if the emergency is imminent.

With these conditions in mind, let us imagine a light cruiser of the future bowling along at forty miles per second on the trail of an enemy.  The enemy is also a cruiser, one that has slipped through our screen and is approaching the earth for a fast raid on our cities.  He is already decelerating for his prospective descent and is thought to be about one hundred and fifty thousand miles ahead, proceeding at about thirty-five miles per second [126,000 mph / 202,777 kph].  Our cruiser is closing on him from a little on his port quarter, and trying to pick him up with its direction finders.

So far we have not “seen” him.  We only know from enciphered code messages received several days ago from our scouting force, now fifty millions astern of us, that he is up ahead.  It would take too long here to explain how the scouts secured the information they sent us.  The huge system of expanding spirals along which successive patrols searched the half billion cubic miles of dangerous space lying between us and the enemy planet is much too intricate for brief description.  It is sufficient for our purposes that the scouts did detect the passage of the hostile cruiser through their web and that they kept their instruments trained on him long enough to identify his trajectory.  Being neither in a position to attack advantageously nor well enough armed – for their function is the securing of information, and that only – they passed the enemy’s coordinates along to us.  This information is vital to us, for without it the probability of contact in the void is so remote as to be nonexistent.

The ship in which we are rushing to battle is not a large one.  She is a bare hundred meters [328 feet] in length, but highly powered.  Her multiple rocket tubes, now cold and dead, are grouped in the stern.  We have no desire for more speed, having all that is manageable already, for after the few seconds of our coming brush with the enemy our velocity is such that we will far overrun him and his destination as well.  It will require days of maximum deceleration for us to check our flight and be in a position to return to base.

Our ship’s armament, judged by today’s standards, will at first sight appear strangely inadequate.  Our most destructive weapon is the “mine,” a simple sphere of meteoric iron about the size of a billiard ball, containing no explosive and not fused.  The effectiveness of such mines depends upon the speed with which they are struck by the target ship – no explosive could add much to the damage done by a small lump of iron striking at upward of thirty miles a second.  Then there will he torpedo tubes amidships, and perhaps a few guns, but it may lie well to postpone a discussion of the armament until we have examined the conditions at the place of battle.

Although we know in a general way where the enemy is and where he is going, before we close with him we must determine his course and speed very accurately, for our ability to hit him at all is going to depend upon extremely nice calculations.  Our speeds are such that angular errors of so much as a second of arc will be fatal, and times must be computed to within hundredths of seconds.

This falls within the province of fire-control, a subject seldom if ever mentioned by fiction writers.  There is no blame to be attached to them for that, for the problems of fire-control are essentially those of pure mathematics, and mathematics is notoriously unthrilling to the majority of readers.  Yet hitting with guns – or even arrows, though the archer solves his difficulties by intuition – requires the solution of intricate problems involving the future positions and movements of at least two bodies, and nothing more elementary than the differential calculus will do the trick.  In these problems interior ballistics, for all its interesting physics, boils down to a single figure – the initial velocity of the projectile, while exterior ballistics evaporates for the most part the moment we propel our missile into a gravityless vacuum.  In space we are to be concerned with the swiftly changing relationship of two rapidly moving vessels and the interchange of equally swift projectiles between them, the tracks of all of them being complicated curves and not necessarily lying in a plane.

In its simplest statement the problem of long-range gunnery is this: where will the enemy be when my salvo gets there?  For we must remember that even in today’s battles the time the projectile spends en-route to its target is appreciable – fully a minute on occasion, at sea, during which the warship fired upon may move as much as half a mile.  Under such circumstances the gunner does not fire directly at his target, but at the place it is going to be.  That requires very accurate knowledge of where the enemy is headed and how fast he is moving.

At sea that is done by observing successive bearings and ranges and plotting them as polar coordinates, bearing in mind that the origin is continuously shifting due to the ship’s own motion.  This work of tracking – the subsequent range-keeping and prediction of future ranges and bearings – is done in our times in the plotting room.  This is the most vital spot in the ship, for if her weapons may be likened to fists and her motive power to legs, her optical and acoustical instruments to eyes and ears, then the plotting room is the counterpart of the brain.  There all the information is received, corrected, digested, and distributed throughout the ship.  Without that co-ordination and direction the ship would be as helpless as an idiot.

Well, hardly that helpless today.  Our individual units, such as turret crews, can struggle on alone, after a fashion.  But not so with the ship of the future.  There the plotting room is everything, and when it is put out of commission, the ship is blind and paralyzed.  It will, of course, be located within the center of the ship, surrounded by an armored shell of its own, and in there will also be the ship control stations.

The best way to approach the problems our descendants will have to face is to consider a simple problem in tracking that our own warships deal with daily.  It is an absurdly simple one compared to the warped spirals to be handled in space warfare, but it will serve to illustrate the principle.  In Fig. 1. it is shown graphically, but in actual practice the elements of the problem are set up on a motor-driven machine which thereupon continuously and correctly delivers the solutions of problems that would take an Einstein minutes to state.  As the situation outside changes, corrections are cranked into the machine, which instantly and uncomplainingly alters its calculations.

In the figure we have the tracks of two ships, ours the left-hand one.  For the sake of clarity and emphasis I have made the ratio of speeds three to one, but the same trends would be shown at the more usual ratio of, say, 20:19

At positions “1,” “2,” “3” and so on, we observe the range and hearing of the target, and plot them.  By noting the differences between successive readings and the second differences between those, we soon have an idea of the type of curve the rates of changes would plot into.  In a short time we can also note that the rates themselves are changing at a certain rate.  This is a rough sort of differentiation – by inspection – and to one familiar with such curves these trends have a definite meaning.

For example, it is apparent that the series of observed angles “Beta” are steadily opening, signifying that we are drawing past the target.  Any sudden alteration of the second differences, such as occurs at “8,” at once indicates a change of condition on the part of the enemy.  He has either turned sharply away or slowed to half speed, for the bearing suddenly opens nearly two degrees more than the predicted beating.  We learn which by consulting our ranges.  It could be a combination of changed course and changed speed.

The ranges during the first seven lime-intervals have been steadily decreasing, although the rate of decrease has been slowing up, indicating we are approaching the minimum range.  At “8,” though, the range not only fails to decrease, but the rate of change actually changes sign.  We know without doubt that the enemy has turned away.

The importance of having the machine grind out predicted bearings and ranges, aside from the desirability of speed and accuracy, is that at any moment smoke, a rain squall, or intervening ships may obscure the target.  In that event the gunners need never know the difference – their range and bearing indicators arc ticking away like taximeters, fed figures by the controlling range-keeper.  It would not have mattered if sight had been lost of the enemy at “4”; the gun- fire would have been just as accurate up to the time he changed course as if they had the target in plain sight, t

As a matter of fact, the guns are not pointed at the target at all, but in advance of it, as is shown in Fig. 1 (a), both range and bearing being altered to allow for the forward movements of the target while the shells are in the air.  The projectiles may be regarded as moving objects bandied on a “collision course” with regard to the enemy vessel.

Speaking of collision courses, it is an interesting property of relative bearings that when the bearing remains constant – except in the special case of the vessels being on parallel courses at identical speeds – the vessels will eventually collide, regardless of what their actual courses and speeds are.  Hence, from the time the shots of the salvo left their guns – Fig. 1 (a) – until they struck their target, the target bore a constant angle of thirteen degrees to the right of the nose of the shells.  (This knowledge has some utility in estimating the penetration of armor at the destination.)

In the example above, all the movement can be regarded as taking place in a plane; the ships follow straight courses and they maintain constant speeds.  Our terrestrial problems are in practice much complicated by zigzagging, slowing down and speeding up, but at that they are relatively child’s play compared to what the sky-warrior of the future must contend with.

His tracks are likely to be curved in three dimensions, like pieces of wire hacked out of a spiral bed spring, and whether or not they can be plotted in a plane, they will nowhere be straight.  Moreover, whatever changes of speeds occur will be in the form of steady accelerations and not in a succession of flat steps linked by brief accelerations such as we know.  Computing collision courses between two continually accelerating bodies is a much trickier piece of mathematical legerdemain than finding the unknown quantities in the family of plane trapeziums shown in Fig. I.  Yet projectiles must be given the course and speed necessary to insure collision.

The gunnery officer of the future is further handicapped by rarely ever being permitted a glimpse of his target, certainly not for the purpose of taking ranges and bearings.  In the beginning of the approach the distances between the ships is much too great, and by the time they have closed, their relative speed will generally forbid vision.

Since optical instruments are useless except for astrogational purposes, his rangefinders and target-bearing transmitters will have to be something else.  For bearings, his most accurate instrument will probably be the thermoscope – an improved heat-detector similar to those used by astronomers in comparing the heat emission of distant stars.  It will have a spherical mounting with a delicate micro-vernier.  A nearby spaceship is sure to radiate heat, for it is exposed constantly to full sunlight and must rid itself of the excess heat or its crew will die.  Once such a source of heat is picked up and identified, it can be followed very closely as to direction, although little can be told of its distance unless something is known of its intrinsic heat radiation.

Ranges will probably be determined by sounding space with radio waves, measuring the time interval to the return of reflected waves.  It is doubtful whether this means will have a high degree of accuracy much beyond ranges of one light-second on account of the movement of the two vessels while the wave is in transit both ways.  At long range the need for troublesome corrections is sure to enter.

Such observations, used in conjunction with one another, should give fairly accurate information as to the target’s trajectory and how he bears from us and how far he is away.  This data will be fed into a tracking and range-keeping machine capable of handling the twisted three-dimensional curves involved, and which will at once indicate the time and distance of the closest point of approach.  Both captains will at once begin planning the action.  They may also attempt to adjust their courses slightly, but since the rockets evolve great heat, neither can hope to keep his action from the knowledge of the other owing to the sensitiveness of the thermoscopes.

The rangekeeping instrument suggested, while far surpassing in complexity anything we know of today, will represent a much smaller technical advance than the rockets which drive the ships that house them.  We already have similar machines, so that their counterparts of the future would seem much less mysterious to us than, say, the Walschaert’s valve gear to Hero or Archimedes, or the Jacquard loom to the weavers of the Gobelin tapestries.

Assuming we have, by observation and plotting, full knowledge of the enemy’s path and have come almost into position to commence the engagement, we find ourselves confronted once more with the two overwhelming factors of space warfare – great distance and immense speeds – but this time in another aspect.  We have come up close to our foe – in fact we are within twenty seconds of intersecting his trajectory – and our distance apart is a mere four hundred miles [643 km].  It is when we get to close quarters that the tremendous problems raised by these lightning-like speeds manifest themselves most vividly.

Look at Fig. 2.

The elapsed time from the commencement of the engagement until the end is less than twenty seconds.  Our ship is making forty miles per second, the other fellow is doing thirty-three.  We will never be closer than fifty miles, even if we regard the curves as drawn as being in the same plane.  If one rides over or below the other, that minimum range will be greater.  What kind of projectile can cross the two or three hundred miles separating the two converging vessels in time to collide with the enemy?  Shooting cannon with velocities as low as a few miles per second would be like sending a squadron of snails out from the curb to intercept an oncoming motorcycle – it would be out of sight in the distance before they were well started.

Projectiles from guns, if they were to be given velocities in the same relation to ships’ speeds that prevail at present, would have to be stepped up to speeds of three to four thousand miles per second!  A manifest impossibility.  It would be difficult, indeed, to hurl any sort of projectile away from the ship at greater initial velocities than the ship’s own speed.  Such impulses, eighty times stronger than the propelling charge of today’s cannon, would cause shocks of incredible violence.  It follows from that that an overtaken ship is comparatively helpless – unless she is in a position to drop mines – for whatever missiles she fires have the forward inertia of the parent ship and will therefore be sluggish in their movement in any direction but ahead.

Another difficulty connected with gunfire is the slowness with which it comes into operation.  This may seem to some to be a startling statement, but we are dealing here with astonishing speeds.  When the firing key of a piece of modern artillery is closed, the gun promptly goes off with a bang.  To us that seems to be a practically instantaneous action.  Yet careful time studies show the following sequence of events: the primer fires, the powder is ignited and burns, the gases of combustion expand and start the shell moving down the tube.  The elapsed time from the “will to fire” to the emergence of the projectile from the muzzle is about one tenth of a second.  In Fig. 2 our target will have moved more than three miles while our shell is making its way to the mouth of the cannon!  It looks as if guns wouldn’t do.

I come to that conclusion very reluctantly, for I am quite partial to guns as amazingly flexible and reliable weapons, but when we consider that both powders and primers vary somewhat in their time of burning, there is also a variable error of serious proportions added to the above slowness.  It is more likely that the rocket-torpedoes suggested by Mr. Willy Ley in a recent article on space war will be the primary weapon of the future.  They have the advantage of auto-acceleration and can therefore build up speed to any desired value after having been launched.

The exact moment of their firing would have to be computed by the tracking machine, as no human brain could solve such a problem in the time allowed.  But even assuming machine accuracy, great delicacy in tube-laying and micro-timing, the chances of a direct hit cm the target with a single missile is virtually nil.  For all their advanced instruments, it is probable that all such attacks will be made in salvos, or continuous barrages, following the time-honored shotgun principle.  For the sake of simplicity, only two such salvos are shown on the diagram, but probably they would be as nearly continuous as the firing mechanisms of the tubes would permit.  Any reader with a flair for mathematics is invited to compute the trajectories of the torpedoes.  The ones shown were fired dead abeam in order to gain distance toward the enemy as rapidly as possible.

It is desirable that these torpedoes should vanish as soon as practicable after having overrun their target.  To that end their cases are made of thin magnesium, and between the head and the fuel compartment is a space filled with compressed oxygen and a small bursting charge The tip of the head is loaded with liquid mercury.  Such a massive projectile would penetrate any spaceship with ease, but if it missed it would burst as soon as the fuel supply was spent and then consume itself in brilliant flame, thus avoiding littering the Spaceways with dangerous fragments.

Spotting, as we know it, would be impossible, for the target would be invisible.  Hits would have to be registered by the thermoscope, utilizing the heat generated by the impact.  The gunnery officer could watch the flight of his torpedoes by their fiery wakes, and see his duds burst; that might give him an idea on which side of the enemy they passed in the event the thermoscopes registered no hits.

If there were guns – and they might be carried for stratosphere use – they could be brought into action at about “15,” firing broad on the starboard quarter.  The shells, also of self-destroying magnesium, would lose some of their forward velocity and drift along in the wake of the ship while at the same time making some distance toward the oncoming enemy.  These guns would be mounted in twin turrets, one on the roof and the other on the keel, cross-connected so that they would be trained and fired together.  It the ships center of gravity lay exactly between them, their being fired would not tend to put the ship into a spin in any direction.  What little torque there might be, due to inequalities in the firing charge, would be taken care of by the ship’s gyro stabilizer, an instrument also needed on board to furnish a sphere of reference so that the master could keep track of his orientation. 

If upon arriving at point “16” the enemy were still full of fight and desperate measures were called for, we could lay down mines.  These hard little pellets would be shot out of mine-laying tubes clustered about the main driving jets.  They would be shot out at slight angles from the fore-and-aft line, and given a velocity exactly equal to the ship’s speed, so that they would hang motionless where they were dropped.  Being cheap and small, they could be laid so thickly that the enemy could not fail to encounter several of them.  If she had survived up to this point, the end would come here.

The end, that is, of the cruiser as a fighting unit.  Riddled and torn, perhaps a shapeless mass of tangled wreckage, she would go hurtling on by, forever bound to her marauding trajectory.  The first duty of our cruiser would be to broadcast warnings to the System, reporting the location of its own mine-field, and giving the direction taken by the shattered derelict.  Sweepers would be summoned to collect the mines with powerful electromagnets, while tugs would pursue and clear the sky of the remnants of the defeated Martian.

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Illustration by Hubert Rogers, for “Second Stage Lensman – Part I“, by Edward E. Smith, PhD., from Astounding Science Fiction, November, 1941, page 35.  (Cover also by Rogers.)

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Illustration by Hubert Rogers, for “Children of the Lens – Conclusion“, by Edward E. Smith, PhD., from Astounding Science Fiction, February, 1948, page 122.  (Cover by Alejandro Canedo)

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— References and Related Readings —

Malcolm R. Jameson, at Wikipedia

Malcolm R. Jameson, at International Science Fiction Database

Hubert Rogers, at SciFiGuy

Hubert Rogers, at International Science Fiction Database

Space War, at Atomic Rockets

Vacation in the Golden Age of Science Fiction, by Jamie Todd Rubin

Warfare in Science Fiction, at Technovology

Weapons in Science Fiction, at Technovology

— Here’s a book —

Wysocki, Edward M., Jr., An ASTOUNDING War: Science Fiction and World War II, CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, April 16, 2015

— Lots of Cool Videos —

Because ScienceKyle Hill

Why Every Movie Space Battle Is Wrong ((at Nerdist) 5/11/17)

The Truth About Space War (4/12/18)

Curious DroidPaul Shillito

Electromagnetic Railguns – The U.S Military’s Future Superguns – 200 mile range Mach 7 projectiles (11/4/17)

Will Directed Energy Weapons be the Future? (6/12/20)

Generation Films – Allen Xie

Best Space Navies in Science Fiction (2/10/20)

5 Most Brilliant Battlefield Strategies in Science Fiction (5/8/20)

5 Things Movies Get Wrong About Space Combat (5/12/20)

6 More Things Movies Get Wrong About Space Battles (5/28/20)

Why “The Expanse” Has the Most Realistic Space Combat (6/21/20)

It’s Okay To Be SmartJoe Hanson

The Physics of Space Battles (9/22/14)

PBS SpaceTimeMatt O’Dowd

The Real Star Wars (7/19/17)

5 Ways to Stop a Killer Asteroid (11/18/15)

 Science & Futurism with Isaac Arthur (SFIA) – Isaac Arthur

Space Warfare (11/24/16)

Force Fields (7/27/17)

Interplanetary Warfare (8/31/17)

Interstellar Warfare (3/8/18)

Planetary Assaults & Invasions (5/17/18)

Attack of the Drones (9/13/18)

Battle for The Moon (11/15/18)

The Infographics Show

What If There Was War in Space? (12/23/18)

Railguns and More! – The Battle of Thoth Station, in “The Expanse”

Rocinante Attack on Thoth Station (Episode “Doors & Corners”) “The Expanse”, Season 2, Episode 2 (Air Date 2/1/17), at DailyMotion

List of “The Expanse” Episodes, at Wikipedia

War in Space, 1939 – I: “Space War”, in Astounding Science Fiction, by Willy Ley (August, 1939)


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So.

…lately, I’ve been perusing my collection of science-fiction pulps – Astounding Science Fiction; Analog; Galaxy Science Fiction; The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction; Startling Stories; Beyond Fantasy-Fiction, and more – admiring cover and interior art; acknowledging the enjoyment of paper and ink versus the stale purity of pixels; and especially (especially!) appreciating the contrast between the first time I read “such and such” a story in a paperback anthology – say, Fredric Brown’s “Arena“, in Volume I of The Science Fiction Hall of Fame – versus said story in its original incarnation in the June, 1944 issue of Astounding.

It seems.

…that the very contrast between things; events; images – as we remember them – and as they actually are, can be of deeper and more provocative impact that those very “things” themselves.

And.

…that “contrast” can easily extend to the taken-for-granted realms of ideas or technology.  In the of science fiction, striking examples of this – striking, in juxtaposition with the “world” of 2021 – appeared in Astounding Science Fiction in August and November  of 1939, in the form of articles by Willy Ley and Malcolm Jameson.  Respectively entitled “Space War” and “Space War Tactics”, both authors presented analyses of how battles between spacecraft (emphasizing individual ship-versus-ship combat) would actually be conducted – in the particular and obvious context of the nature of scientific knowledge and the technology of the late 1930s – versus how such conflict then and even in subsequent decades, was imagined.  (Or, anticipated?!)

Well.

…I enjoyed reading these articles.  And, in light of contemporary and ongoing news about “space” having become a realm of military activity – at a level even beyond what has already transpired since the early 1960s; at a level beyond that of reconnaissance alone – I thought you’d appreciate them, too.

Anyway.

….what I’ve done is fully transcribe both articles as two posts, one article per post – just as they appeared in Astounding back in ’39.  These posts include all illustrations and captions that appeared in the original articles, to which I’ve tossed in some videos (you’ll see what they are), links to additional sources of information, and a little information about one author (Malcolm Jameson) in particular.  In the Jameson article (in the next post), velocities listed in the text have been recalculated as miles (statue miles) and kilometers per hour.  

Purposefully.

…These posts are not primarily intended to critique the technological validity of the analyses and conclusions arrived at by Ley or Jameson.  Rather, they’re instead to open a window upon the intellectual, scientific, and even social “flavor” of the times.  While some of the authors’ analyses and conclusions will be incorrect, quaint, or utterly passe in light of scientific and technological developments that have occurred during the intervening eighty-two (gad, 82?!) years, I can’t help but wonder about the continuing relevance and validity of at least some of their insights, in terms of general concepts about kinetic – projectile – weapons versus “rays”, or, aspects of identification, tracking, and aiming by opposing spacecraft, in the context of speed, and, other factors.  So, each article is preceded by a summary of its central points, with the most notable passages of the text being italicized and in red text, like these last thirteen words in this sentence.  Both posts conclude with links to a variety of excellent videos covering spacecraft-versus-spacecraft battles, and “space war”, in greater detail, in light of (quite obviously!) contemporary knowledge.     

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Here’s Willy Ley’s “Space War” from August of 1939.

Some general “take-aways” from his article are:

1) The technology needed for spacecraft already exists, even in rudimentary form.

2) The possibility exists that civilization will progress to such a point where war will become outlawed.  Given ( – alas – ) human nature, in the more likely alternative, the potential and impetus for human conflict that has always existed on earth will continue as man explores space.  

3) By definition, space conflict will parallel aerial conflict by being manifested in three dimensions of movement.

4) In literary depictions of space warfare, a literary device and plot element has been that of energy weapons.  I think Ley is implying infrared projectors or beam weapons.

However, a weapon far, far more mundane and less dramatic, yet vastly more effective, practical, and solidly within the realm of technological development and practical use is some variant of: The gun.  “Well, I still believe that there is no better, more efficient and more deadly weapon for space warfare than an accurate gun with high muzzle velocity.  And I believe that an intelligent being from another planet, that is advanced enough to build or at least to understand spaceships, will look like a man – at least to somebody who does not see very well and cannot find his glasses.”

5)  The technology envisioned for energy or beam weapons – “ray projectors” – even if these can successfully be developed – is prohibitively heavy, bulky, and impractical for use in spacecraft.

6)  Assuming that some form of “gun” is used in space warfare, the projectiles fired by such weapons would be analogous to those used in conventional, “earth-bound” conflicts, albeit specifically relevant to spacecraft versus spacecraft battles.  These would be: 1) High explosive thin-walled shells, and 2) Shells containing large numbers of individual non-explosive projectiles.

7) Some science fiction depictions of space warfare rely on the concept of defensive “screens” (perhaps analogous to the use of “shields” in Star Trek?).  But, can “screens” of whatever nature – “gravity screens” in particular – be developed in theory, let alone technologically, in light of current and future knowledge about the nature of gravity?

8) Rockets would be a possible weapon in space battles, albeit this being 1939, Ley is discussing unguided rockets.  The disadvantages of such weapons are that they could be (relatively) easily spotted, and, the impracticality and danger in storing a relatively large quanitty of combustible and/ or explosive material aboard a spacecraft, let alone the size and mass of such weapons.

9)  Space battles would be characterized by craft camouflaged “night-black”, and using any possible measures to reduce their thermal signatures.

10) Paralleling this, ammunition would be used “sparingly” due to the eventual (!) danger of intact ordnance remaining in orbit around the Sun.  (Or, any old sun.)

11) It would be absolutely essential that the effects of the recoil of any specific weapon, or more likely combination of weapons located at disparate points on the spacecraft’s hull (think of an analogue to the five gun turrets (four remote-control) of a WW II B-29 Superfortress), on the spacecraft’s trajectory be compensated for by the craft’s main engine, or, maneuvering thrusters.

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Oh, before we start with Ley’s article, a comment about this issue’s cover art:  This is the only issue of Astounding Science Fiction for which the cover illustration – for which any illustration, really – was created by Virgil Finlay.  Given Finlay’s superb – sometimes astonishing; almost preternatural; in my opinion quite unparalleled – artistic skill, I’d long wondered why an artist of his caliber had no other association with the magazine most central to the development of science fiction as a literary genre. 

You can find the answer below, in an excerpt from a vastly larger post (link here) at my brother blog,  WordsEnvisioned.     

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VIRGIL FINLAY – Dean of Science Fiction Artists

by SAM MOSKOWITZ

Worlds of Tomorrow

November, 1965

Except for an unfortunate experience Finlay might have become a regular illustrator for Astounding Science-Fiction, then the field leader.

Street & Smith had launched a companion titled Unknown, to deal predominantly in fantasy.  Finlay had been commissioned to do several interior drawings for a novelette The Wisdom of the Ass, which finally appeared in the February, 1940 Unknown as the second in a series of tales based on modern Arabian mythology, written by the erudite wrestler and inventor, Silaki Ali Hassan.

John W. Campbell had come into considerable criticism for the unsatisfactory cover work of Graves Gladney on Astounding Science-Fiction during early 1939.  So it was with a note of triumph, in projecting the features of the August, 1939 issue, he announced to his detractors:

“The cover, incidentally, should please some few of you.  It’s being done by Virgil Finlay, and illustrates the engine room of a spaceship.  Gentlemen, we try to please!”

The cover proved a shocking disappointment.  Illustrating Lester del Rey’s The Luck of Ignatz, its crudely drawn wooden human figures depicted operating an uninspired machine would have drawn rebukes from the readers of an amateur science-fiction fan magazine.  The infinite detail and photographic intensity which trademarked Finlay was entirely missing.

No one was more sickened than Virgil Finlay.  He had been asked to paint a gigantic engine room, in which awesome machinery dwarfed the men with implications of illimitable power.  He had done just that; but the art director had taken a couple of square inches of his painting, blown it up to a full-size cover and discarded the rest.

The result was horrendous.  A repetition of it would have seriously damaged his reputation, so Finlay refused to draw for Street and Smith again.

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And so, now on to Willy Ley’s article…

SPACE WAR

Suggesting that rays, ray screens, and all super-potent weapons of science-fiction aren’t half as deadly as a weapon we already have.

By Willy Ley

Illustrated by Willy Ley

Astounding Science Fiction
August, 1939

ABOUT ten years ago, Professor Hermann Oberth, the famous rocket expert, made an interesting experiment which, although having to do with rockets, required neither laboratory nor proving ground.  It was a legal experiment.  Professor Oberth submitted to the German Patent Office a complete description, with drawings, of a “Space Rocket.”  It was, virtually, a spaceship with all the details he had been able to think of in many years of study.

After the usual acknowledgment, there was complete silence for some time.  Then one day a bulky letter arrived from the patent office, containing the expected rejection.  But it was more than just a rejection.  Patent offices do not reject things without explaining why.  And the staff of the patent office did explain.  They had pried the plans apart and patiently and expertly examined every part of them.  And after really tremendous research and labor they had arrived at the conclusion that Professor Oberth’s plans could not be patented because every part and device was known to engineering science and had been patented before in some country by somebody else. (1)

The decision, or rather the explanation given, was in a way more valuable than the granting of a patent would have been.  It proved that spaceships arc not so far beyond the horizon as most people think – the very conservative and very careful staff of a patent office had found that they existed already – only in parts scattered all over and throughout civilization.  Periscopes, air purifiers, air-proof hulls, automatic devices and instruments of all kinds, water regenerators, et cetera, et cetera – they all exist and not even the much-discussed rocket motors are really novel.  Devices very similar to those needed on a tremendous scale for spaceships have already been built on a small scale for gas turbines.

It is, of course, true that, in spite of the decision of the patent office, space-ships arc still to be invented.  Every one of the thousand and one parts needs special adaptation, re-designing and re-research. There is still a tremendous amount of work to be done, and much has to be “invented.”  Point is, however, that there is nothing new in principle that is needed for space travel.  It was almost the same story with airplanes forty years ago.  Everything needed to build an airplane existed.  There was steel tubing and the art of welding it.  There were sheet aluminum and rubber.  There were wheels and propellers, wings were known and gasoline engines could be bought.  The invention of the airplane was delayed because those engines were too weak – it is exactly the same with rocket motors.

With more powerful engines came airplanes.  And with airplanes came thoughts of military application.  At first only observing was contemplated.  Even in actual war – 1914 – airplanes did not combat each other at first.  They observed enemy movements were fired at from the ground and retaliated with primitive bombs.  But the pilots of two airplanes meeting in the air are said to have saluted each other – flying alone was dangerous enough.  Then one day somebody began to shoot with a pistol and soon planes were having machine- gun combats.

It is only logical to assume that space war will follow the advent of the spaceship as aerial warfare followed in the wake of the airplane.  Not from the very outset, probably, because the first space-ships will entail sufficient risk of life in themselves.  But later spaceships will have means to combat each other in space and one day somebody will find, or create, a reason to use these means.  It is possible, though not any too likely, that mankind will have progressed beyond the use of brute force when space travel has advanced to a fair degree of perfection.  And if by then war has already been successfully outlawed, there will be space police and blockade runners.  There will be combat, even if not war.

So much for the likeliness of battles in space – even without the famous invasion from an alien solar system.  How will these battles be fought?  New means of transportation bring new kinds of battle tactics.  Roman chariots fought in another manner than the horsemen of Dshingis Khan.  Byzantine galleys employed other tactics than Sir Francis Drake, and he had other ideas of naval battle than the commander of the U.S.S. Washington.

IN AERIAL BATTLE a new element became important, the maneuverability in three dimensions.  It was not the better gun or the faster plane that decided many single engagements, but the Immelmann turn.  Evidently space war will develop its own tactics – but tactics depend also to a very great extent on the type of armament in use.  That, of course, does not present any question to the science-fiction fan.  He knows it by heart from hundreds of stories, the authors of which neither overexerted their imagination nor perceive a need for too much originality.  Traditionally spaceships attack each other with heat-ray projectors of incredible temperature and tremendous capacity; they probe into each other’s vitals with searing needle rays.  They bombard each other’s screens with proton guns and barytron blasters.  They waste energy in appalling quantities, they do anything but shoot.

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Figure 1.  Pressure curves the barrels of guns.  

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To pull the lanyard of a shiny 75-millimeter nickel-steel gun would be too trivial a thing to do.  Just about as trivial, in fact, as to picture a race of bearded men in white silk dresses armed with crossbows on a planet of Beta Draconis.  The beings that live there must be walking octopi, waving heat guns and disintegrator pistols in their tentacles.  Normal human-looking people would not be hostile enough to the visitors from Terra, and spaceships with simple guns would certainly be ridiculous and puny.  Besides, guns would be to no avail against the ultrarefractory super alloys of the spaceships, and the shells would simply be deflected by force fields.

Well, I still believe that there is no better, more efficient and more deadly weapon for space warfare than an accurate gun with high muzzle velocity.  And I believe that an intelligent being from another planet, that is advanced enough to build or at least to understand spaceships, will look like a man – at least to somebody who does not see very well and cannot find his glasses.

Before going into detail about the advantages of guns it is advisable to contemplate the relative merits of ray projectors.  That they do not exist now is immaterial; science-fiction is not only concerned with things that are but also with those that might be.  How would they look if they did exist?  They would consist of two main parts, the mechanism that produces and projects the rays and the power plant that feeds said mechanism.

Power plants are notoriously heavy and, even if we assume atomic power, the power generator will not be just a vest-pocket affair.  It would probably need a lot of insulation and a powerful cooling device.  We can say with certainty that it would be heavy and bulky.  Also, it will probably be sensitive against shaking and jarring, and it would be unpleasant indeed to see all the atomic converters go out of action in the middle of a battle.  The ray generator itself would most certainly be sensitive since we have to assume tubes of some kind.  And these sensitive ray projectors would have to be in the outer hull of the ship – or even outside the outer hull – so that they do not damage the wrong hull.

So much for the “merits” of ray generators.  Now the rays themselves.  Even the most powerful and most fantastically destructive ray will need some time to inflict damage.  Which implies the need for complicated sighting and focusing devices.  How well the rays will focus is another question.  Almost invariably the beams will spread out with distance.  The farther the target is away the weaker the radiation becomes.  The weaker it becomes the longer it has to strike.  But holding a ray on a fast-moving distant target, that might be practically invisible with black paint against the background of black space, is no small job.

Besides, those rays are supposed to be more than mere searchlights.  They are supposed to have unpleasant destructive qualities, being twelve thousand degrees hot, for example.  Naturally the generator has to be able to endure its own heat.  But, if there is an insulating material that holds out against the energies released at the giving end, it is hard to understand why the same insulator should not be usable to safeguard the hull of the ship that is being rayed – especially since the energy concentration at the receiving end is only a fraction of that at the giving end.

John W. Campbell evaded all these troublesome questions nicely in his “Mightiest Machine” by introducing the transpon beams.  These rays are fairly innocent in themselves, but they have the ability of carrying a large variety and an enormous quantity of vicious radiations originating elsewhere and not touching the projectors.  It is possible that something like this might be accomplished one day, but ordinary rays, as they are usually featured in science-fiction stories, have no place in actual future space war.  Even if they could be generated they would not have any practical military value.

A GUN is a much nicer instrument.  It is compact and sturdy, cannot be damaged by anything less potent than a direct hit from another gun, and does not require a special power plant.  Compared to what one would have to carry around to produce even feeble rays the weight of a gun is small.  Besides, a gun is something we do know how to handle.  More than six centuries of continuous use have taught us how to take advantage of the fact that certain mixtures of chemicals burn with utmost rapidity and produce large quantities of gases while doing so.

That fact permits three main types of possible application, every one of them in use in ordinary warfare and fit to be used in space war, too.  The large volume of gas that is generated suddenly can either he used to destroy its container and whatever happens to be around – that’s the principle of the bomb.  Or it might be discharged comparatively slowly through a hole in the container so that the recoil moves the container – the principle of the rocket.  Finally it might be discharged suddenly through a tube which is blocked by a solid movable object that is then blown out vehemently at high speed just like a dart from a blow gun – the principle of the firearm.  All three, bomb, rocket and gun, were invented in rapid succession soon after the discovery of gunpowder.

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Figure 2.  Three types of explosive shells.  Type A is a light, bursting shell, for surface damage.  B, heavily cased with armor, is designed to penetrate steel and concrete armor before bursting.  C is a sort of “flying machine-gun,” a shrapnel shell to scatter hundreds of deadly pellets as bursting.  

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Figure 3.  Antirecoil device for gases.  The explosion gasses, turned backward, tend to kick the rifle forward as hard as the bullet’s recoil kicks it backward.  

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The latter was found in China around the year 1200 A.D., certainly not much earlier – the statements of old encyclopedias notwithstanding.  Bombs and powder rochets were used for the first time in 1232 during the bottle of Pien-king.  They were then “newly invented.”  As to guns we think that we even know the exact year of their invention.  The Memoriebook (chronicle) of the city of Ghent contains under the year 1313 the entry:

“Item, in dit jaer was aldereerst gevonden in Duitschland het gebruik der bussen van eenen mueninck.”  Translation: “By the way, during this year the use of bussen was discovered for the first time by a monk in Germany.”

“Bussen” meaning portable guns.  The oldest picture of a gun can be found in an Oxford manuscript, De Officiis Regum, from the year 1326.  Eighty years later guns were known in all civilized countries.

But it took more than four centuries until the science of ballistics came into being.  A great many other sciences, especially mathematics, had to be developed first before the performance of a gun could be predicted to a certain extent.

Ballistics arc extremely complicated, and it is hard to tell whether interior or exterior ballistics present fewer or lesser headaches.  The term “exterior ballistics” applies to the movement of the projectile from the moment it leaves the muzzle of the gun until it hits the target.  “Interior ballistics,” consequently means the movement of the projectile within the gun barrel.  The principles are simple in both cases.

The distance reached by a projectile is determined by its muzzle velocity that should be as high as possible and by the angle of elevation where 45 degrees represents the optimum.  High muzzle velocity is, therefore, the main goal, and the laws of interior ballistics tell how it can best be attained.  There are only a few forces at work.  The expanding gases that result from the explosion of the driving charge push the projectile ahead of them, the higher the pressure, the faster.  And the longer the barrel the more time to push.  Counteracting forces are the inertia of the projectile and its friction against the walls of the barrel.  It seems, therefore, that the barrel should he very long and very smooth, the pressure very high and the projectile very light.

Unfortunately it is not quite as simple as becomes apparent if we follow the events in a more detailed form.  The shot begins with the ignition of the driving charge.  It is here where things look most beautiful.  One kilogram of ordinary black gunpowder produces 285 liters of gas at the temperature of zero degrees centigrade, the freezing point of water.  One kilogram of TNT develops 592 liters, one kilogram of nitroglycerin 713 liters, and one kilogram of nitro-cellulose powder even 990 liters.  Now these volumes are valid for zero degrees centigrade.  But the gases are hot, their volume increases by about one third of the zero degree volume for each 100° C. rise.  And the temperature of combustion is high, about 2000° C. for black powder, 2600° C. for TNT, 3100° C. for nitroglycerin and 2200° C. for nitro-cellulose powder.  There is a limit as to what the barrel can stand and don’t forget that it is supposed to have a service life, too.  Things are a little easier if the powder burns rapidly but not instantaneously; the reason, incidentally, why only a very few known explosives can be used as driving charges.  A short moment after complete combustion of the driving charge the internal pressure reaches its highest point, afterward expansion alone works.

THE LENGTH of a barrel is usually expressed not in inches or centimeters, but in calibers, a word which came from the Arab, where it means “model” (standard).  Very short stubby mortar barrels are 12-15 calibers long, heavy naval gun 40-50 calibers and infantry rifles even 90 calibers.  They are not smooth but “rifled”, having a spiral groove which forces the projectiles to spin around their longitudinal axes.  Artillery shells fit the barrel loosely – the rifle effect and the gas tight fit are accomplished by copper rings laid around the shell.

We have arrived at the point where the gases drive the shell by their expansion only.  The speed of the projectile is still increasing then, but not for very long.  The infantry rifle 98 [referring to the German Gewehr 98 bolt action rifle?] that was and is in use in a number of European armies and has been investigated very thoroughly, may now serve as an example, its bore is 0.3 inches, the “bullet” weighs 10 grams, the driving charge 3.2 grams.  The barrel is 29.1 inches, or about 90 calibers long.

The bullet leaves the muzzle with a velocity of 2936 feet per second, involving a small loss of energy since the muzzle velocity could be 66 feet higher if the barrel were 45-4 inches or 150 calibers long.  These figures show how much the friction in the barrel retards the bullet.  To attain a speed of 2936 feet per second a barrel length of 90 calibers is required.  But an additional length of 60 calibers would increase the muzzle velocity by only 66 feet.  No wonder the designers preferred to save these 66 feet, and save weight and material.  If the barrel was much longer, the bullet would not leave it.  That’s what would happen in the case of rifle 98 if the length of the barrel surpassed 23 feet.

In special cases longer barrels were built: The 80-mile gun that fired at Paris from the forest of Crepy in March, 1918 (2) had a barrel that was 118 feet or 170 calibers long.  However, only three quarters of that barrel were rifled, the last 45 calibers of length were smooth.  Another retarding factor, not often mentioned and apparently not yet fully determined is the air above the shell in the barrel.  Since the projectile acquires supersonic speeds, that air cannot escape but has to be compressed, which might mean a considerable loss in the case of a long gun of large caliber.

Point one in favor of guns in space war: they do not have to spend that energy.

When the projectile leaves the muzzle the trouble really starts.  Older books say that the trajectory is a parabola – it is elliptical with the center of the Earth as one of the focal points of the ellipse.  The trajectory is influenced by the rotation of the Earth, by the attraction of large mountains, by barometric pressure and by the humidity of the air and by a number of other factors that might be avoided by careful design.  Incidentally, streamlining would be useless; we deal with supersonic velocities.  While the shell rises the velocity decreases until the peak of the flight is reached.  Then the velocity increases again, due to gravitational attraction, and decreases with mounting speed due to increasing air resistance.*

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*Most of these factors become noticeable only in long trajectories.  The changes in velocity are beautifully shown in the following table, calculated by Max Valler for the trajectory of the Paris Gun – authentic data are still secret.

angle distance (km) altitude (km) velocity (km/sec) time (sec)
54 0 0 1.5 0
53 3.45 4.67 1.3 4.2
50 10.83 14.00 1.06 14.3
45 19.70 23.72 .93 27.3
40 26.80 30.33 .86 38.2
25 43.07 41.04 .72 62.1
0 63.34 46.20 .65 94.5
25 83.55 41.60 .71 120.0
40 99.06 31.20 .84 150.5
50 115.99 16.60 .95 173.3
53 122.00 6.12 .94 191.0
58 126.00 0 0.86 199.0

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The main factors are therefore, gravity and resistance – two more points in favor of the use of guns in space.  There is no air resistance and the gravitational fields are weak where spaceships usually travel.

That bullet from infantry rifle 98 has near its muzzle 3000 foot pounds of kinetic energy.  When it hits a target 3280 feet (1 kilometer) from the muzzle its kinetic energy is only 336 foot pounds, and at 2 kilometers a mere 88 foot pounds.  The extreme range of that rifle is about 4 kilometers (2.5 miles), but if there were no air it would carry more than 70 kilometers (43.5 miles).  Rifles do not attain more than 5% of their vacuum range under normal surface conditions, field artillery pieces attain about 20%, heavy artillery shells about 25%, long naval rifles of large caliber 30%, and long-range guns up to 50%, because the longer part of their trajectory is situated in the near- vacuum of the stratosphere.

In space in a weak gravitational field, the infantry rifle bullet would arrive at a target 20 miles distant – you could hardly aim without a telescope at something farther away – with about 3020 foot pounds of kinetic energy.  No, “3020” is not a printing error, because the muzzle velocity would be higher, due to the lack of air resistance in the barrel!

AFTER being pleased so much with the performance of a portable rifle we’ll have a look at “real” guns.  There exists an especially nice field piece, La Soixante-quinze, the famous French 75 millimeter gun.  It has a 20-caliber barrel, about 7 feet 4 inches long.  Its shell weighs 14.3 pounds, the muzzle velocity in air is 1970 feet per second, the kinetic energy at the muzzle about 2,800,000 foot pounds. [!?]

The barrel of the .75 weighs about 680 pounds, each cartridge about 22 pounds, so that gun, additional equipment and 150 rounds of ammunition amount to about two tons – not excessive a weight for a ship that does not have to carry passengers or cargo – say a Patrol cruiser – but very impressive an armament for a spaceship.  Of course, the gun would not be a three-inch field piece.  In a French paper on Avions de gros bombardement it was very recently pointed out that guns are much heavier than necessary.

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Figure 4.  English war-rocket.  This rocket shell is listed in the official British tables of war equipment – a modern, practical rocket shell.

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Designers simply did not pay much attention to weight as long as the gun did not become too heavy for land transport, or if – in case it was too heavy – could be divided into easy loads.  Besides, military experts have their ideas about service life.  One of my closest friends once designed a new type of compass for a firm working for one of the large European navies.  After exhaustive tests that compass was rejected because it was too light!  It was later redesigned with parts and casings that were not stronger than the original parts, but multiplied the weight.  The weight of gun barrels, to get back to the topic, could be reduced to about half without visibly shortening of service life and it could be reduced to a quarter if a shorter service life would be accepted.  That brings even a six-inch long-range gun within reach for large cruisers that do patrol duty; for example, in circling planets.  “Six-inch long range,” incidentally, means just that in space, it could shoot at enemies farther away than a portable telescope could show.

So there is certain no need for a special weapon.  How about special shells?  On Earth three main types are in use: One that dumps as much high explosive as a thin-walled shell will hold on the enemy; one that has to pierce armor and has, therefore, thicker walls and a very strong tip, and one that contains little explosive and many lead balls to scatter around against living targets.

Your first guess is probably that the armor-piercing type is the given projectile for space war.  Which raises the question how much armor is to be pierced.  Terrestrial field guns are equipped with a shield supposed to protect the gun crew against rifle and machine-gun fire and smaller splinters.  Before the World War a shell of 3 millimeters was considered sufficient, but direct rifle fire from distances of a thousand feet or less penetrated them.

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Figure 5.  Cross-section of proposed space rocket shell.  To get striking power in a rocket equivalent to a 75 shell, the driving charge of the rocket would be inordinately heavy.  

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Light battle cruisers on the seas carry a six-inch armor around; it would afford protection against hits from fairly distant 75 mm. guns.  However, a six-inch armor is considered light; most warships carry ten-inch armor plate, and the heaviest battle wagons show up to 30 inches of armor.  Now a battleship has only an armor belt, protecting the sides where hits are most likely, and protecting those spots where hits would be most destructive.  A large section of the ship is protected by the water in which it floats.  Spaceships are not so lucky as to have vulnerable points: they are vulnerable all around.  Therefore, they need armor plate all over the hull.

The weight of such an armor is a nice example for mathematical enjoyment at breakfast or during a subway ride.  We’ll say that a fair-sized spaceship is 90 yards [82.3 meters; 270 feet] long and 20 yards [18.3 meters; 60 feet] in diameter.  To make matters easier we shall assume that the shape is cylindrical, to make up for the difference in surface between cylinder and cigar shape we’ll forget about top and bottom of the cylinder and restrict ourselves to the curved surface.  That surface is equal to the length of the cylinder, multiplied by the diameter, times pi which makes 5070 square yards.  One square yard of six-inch armor plate weighs not quite a ton.  Multiplied by the number oi square yards we arrive at, roughly, twelve million pounds!

You can cut down for the thickness of the armor as much as you want.  It will always be too heavy, until you arrive at plates of a thickness the outer hull would haw to have anyhow.

In short, a Spaceship cannot be protected by plate armor.  Its only defense is its offensive power, since it can always carry guns hundreds of times as powerful as the heaviest possible armor.  So we don’t need armor piercing projectiles, any projectile will penetrate the hull – even rifle bullets.

The important difference is that a spaceship cannot be sunk either – a fact not stressed enough by science-fiction authors.  When a battleship gets a few really serious holes, it is soon out of action and it is relatively unimportant whether the crew abandons ship or sinks with it firing as long as they are above water.  A few bad hits that struck a spaceship may disable it as a means of transportation, but it still does not disappear.  If every man wears a spacesuit the loss of air can be temporarily disregarded.  The various gun posts can and will continue firing until every man on board is disabled. (3)

Space war, therefore, calls for shells that either blast the enemy to smell pieces at once or for shells that quickly disable every man on board.  Which means that either high-explosive shells with thin walls and much H-E are used, or else those shells that contain large numbers of individual bullets should be steel balls and not lead balls, as in terrestrial warfare  If the range is short – as “short” ranges in space go – machine guns are not bad at all, or else that nice contraption that goes under the name of “Chicago Piano,” consisting of eight one-pounder rapid-fire guns mounted on one beam, each firing 200 rounds per minute.  [QF 2-pounder Mk VIII naval gun, a.k.a. “multiple pom-pom”.]  If a spaceship were subjected to the concert of a Chicago Piano for only one minute it would certainly look even worse than after a treatment with heat and disintegrator rays, especially since those rays are usually blocked in stories by adequate screens.

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“An eight gun 2-pounder QF Mk VIII anti-aircraft ‘Pom Pom’ gun installation.”  (From History of War.)

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 “If a spaceship were subjected to the concert of a Chicago Piano for only one minute it would certainly look even worse than after a treatment with heat and disintegrator rays…”

“The pods, assholes!”

(No other dialogue needed.)

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THOSE screens deserve a short discussion, too.  As far as ray screens against hostile rays are concerned, we do not need to worry for long.  Without effective rays there is no need for ray screens.  But it is another story with those fictive screens that are supposed to offer protection against flying pieces of matter charged with kinetic energy.  Could those force fields, or meteorite detectors, or whatever you like to call them be made to actually protect a spaceship?  Strong electric or magnetic fields can deflect material bodies, but the influence is much too weak to avail against bullets with supersonic speeds.  To create a field of such power and range would require equipment of such a ponderous mass and weight – even assuming atomic power – that nickel-steel armor might be lighter.  Only gravity screens would really afford protection.

A gravity screen is supposed to set up a difference in gravity potential and to create what might be called a gravity shadow.  A projectile that were to enter a gravity shadow would need as much kinetic energy as is normally required to overcome the difference of gravity potential in question.  Since it is also usually assumed that the power of gravity screens can be made to vary, the commander of the ship could “adjust” his screens according to enemy fire.

The trouble with gravity screens is not that we do not know how to make them, but that they cannot be made at all.  Devices that “shield off” gravity belong to the category of “permanent impossibilities,” things that cannot be done just as you cannot construct a seven-cornered polygon or trisect a given angle.  The problem of the gravity screen has to be regarded as having been solved just as the problem of the perpetuum mobile has been solved: negatively, it cannot be done.

All this applies, however, only to “gravity screens” of the cavorite type and similar marvelous compounds.  It does not hold true for what may be termed a “counter field.”  Unfortunately we do not know what gravity really is – but it is certainly a force of some kind.  If, one day, somebody discovers the truth about gravity he might also find a way to create gravity fields artificially.  Now we can conceive of a magnetic field that could eliminate the influence of Earth’s field if the latter were magnetic instead of gravitational.  (I am not speaking about Earth’s real magnetic field.)

Similarly we can conceive of a counter field eliminating the effects of the natural gravity fields.  To build up a field of the required strength needs lots of power, to be sure, but one might assume that the initial supply could be furnished by a stationary power plant.  Such a counter field would, of course, have most of the features of cavorite – among them the protection against projectiles of less kinetic energy than the difference of gravity potentials in question.

With this vague hope for possible protection of spaceships we may safely return to the original topic: means of destruction.  Guns and machine guns were found to do nicely – and rocket shells?

Rockets began as weapons of war, they were revived for this purpose by Sir William Congreve in 1804 when there was no other competition for them than smooth-barreled guns of tremendous weight that carried a mile without any accuracy worth mentioning.  In fact, Congreve’s rockets and Hale’s later stickless rockets were more accurate than the contemporary guns; hard to believe, but stated in many of the old reports on rocket tests.

And, contrary to popular belief, war rockets were retained in the Service by Great Britain even in the beginning of the twentieth century.  The “Treatise on Ammunition,” issued in 1905 [see 1915 edition at Archive.org; see illustrations in 1897 edition at Compass Library] by the (British) War Office, still stated: “Rockets are employed in the service for signaling, for display, as weapons of war, and in conjunction with the life-saving apparatus.”  The war rocket officially termed, “Rocket, War, 24-pr., Mark VII, (C). painted red,” was described as being made of steel tubing and cast iron.  The average range given was 1800 yards, they had no guiding stick but a device to make them rotate in flight.  If these rockets were still used in 1905 or later, they were probably used in colonial service.  Despite very many attempts made just at that time to revive war rockets, no army introduced them.  Rocket shells behaved, in all the tests that were made, even more erratically in the air than ordinary shells.

It would be different in space.  No air resistance would disturb the flight of a rocket-driven shell.  And instead of a heavy steel barrel only a thin-walled launched tube would be needed that could even be made of aluminum or magnesium alloys.

The first military objection against rocket shells would be that they could be more easily seen.  This, however, could be overcome in using a very high acceleration with short burning period.  The driving charge, incidentally, should be powder, not liquids.  Powder it not as powerful and not as adaptable as liquid fuel, to be sure, but easier to handle and less expensive because it eliminates the need for mechanisms like combustion chambers, injection nozzles, pressure devices and a host of valves.  Powder has the further advantage of having a natural tendency for shorter combustion periods and higher accelerations.

But guns are still superior, this time because of lesser weight!

If the shell part of the rocket shell shall be the same as that of a 75 mm. gun. and if the final velocity of the rocket shell, after complete combustion of the driving charge, shall be equal to that of a gun projectile the comparison of weights looks as follows:

GUN

weight of the gun – 880 pounds
weight of 100 cartridges – 2200 pounds

total weight – 3080 pounds

ROCKETS

launching tube, etc. – 45 pounds
100 shell heads – 1430 pounds
100 rockets with sufficient driving charge – 4300 pounds

total weight – 5775 pounds

Thin, of course, does not mean that rocket shells will not be built.  For patrol cruisers guns are better, but other ships will not carry 100 rounds of ammunition all the time, as soon as less than twenty rounds are carried, the rockets are lighter.  (There are a few story plots hidden in this statement.)  One might conceive of heavy space torpedoes built along the lines of rocket shells, 10 feet long and weighing 1 1/2 tons.  But I simply won’t like so much powder in one piece on board – and the construction of such a torpedo with present-day methods of manufacture is, by the way, impossible.

SPACE WAR certainly has its peculiar features, quite different from those pictured in stories, but peculiar just the same.  The story picture of shining ships that battle with searing rays and flaming screens is so highly improbable that it can simply be termed wrong.  There won’t be any rays and there won’t be screens, especially not the latter because you would be unable to shoot while you had them working.

Instead there would be ships painted night-black, the camouflage of space, carrying guns of incredible range and immensely destructive power.  The ships would be extremely vulnerable, but at the same time they could not sink and would be capable of inflicting fatal damage as long as a soul on board is alive.

They would not steam into battle with flying colors, but try to approach unseen with all lights extinguished, avoiding the light background of the Milky Way.  If the battle is finally opened ammunition would be used very sparingly, not only because the supply is limited, but because missing is almost as bad as being hit.  The 2000-3000 feet per second of muzzle velocity do not count very much as compared with the orbital speed of the planets and all the shells that missed show up again at the point of battle after one or two or three years when they have completed their full orbit around the Sun.

That their own fire throws them off course is another reason for few shots.  Each 75 mm. shell, weighing 14.3 pounds and leaving in space the muzzle with a velocity of say 2300 feet per second, produces a recoil of 1000 pounds.  And the powder charge, weighing, say, 6.5 pounds, and leaving the muzzle with approximately 6600 feet per second produces another 1300 pounds of recoil.  A single shot would naturally not influence the course of a 3000-ton patrol cruiser very much, but during a prolonged battle there will be deflections to be corrected by the rocket motors.

On second thought I take that back.  The guns do not have to have a recoil that influences the ship.  Several years ago Schneider in Creuzot (France) announced a recoil eliminator, based on the difference in speed between shell and driving gases.  Since the gases are between two and three times as fast as the shell, they overtake it as soon as it clears the muzzle.  The Schneider-Creuzot device was intended to catch these gases and to deflect them by 180 degrees so that their recoil counteracts that of the shell.  The example of the 75 mm. gun has shown that the gases, weighing only 6.5 pounds, produce theoretically 1300 pounds recoil, because they are about three times as fast as the 14.3-pound shell that produces only 1000 pounds of recoil.  If all the gases could be caught and deflected a full 180 degrees, the gun barrel would actually jerk forward with each shot.  Naturally some of the gas simply follows the shell – but tests have shown that the remaining recoil is very low.

There is one remark I wanted to make all through this article, but up to now 1 did not have an opportunity to do so.  What I wanted to say was that there was no talk of armament in Professor Oberth’s patent application.

(1) This decision was entirely in accordance with German patent laws.  In other countries a patent might have been granted under the same circumstances. 

(2) Usually miscalled “Rig Bertha”: the official name was “Kaiser Wilhelm Gun,” the common name “Paris Gun.”  “Big Bertha” was the tame of the mobile 17-inch mortar of Krupps.  Both guns were designed by Professor Rausenberger [Fritz Rausenberger]. 

(3) I recall only one story where this point was stressed.  Campbell’s “Mightiest Machine.”  The fact is also hinted at in Dr. E.E. Smith’s “Skylark III” during the first encounter with the Fenachrome, but it is not especially emphasized.

— References, Related Readings, and What-Not —

Willy O.O. Ley, at Wikipedia

Virgil W. Finlay, at Wikipedia

Space War, at Atomic Rockets

Warfare in Science Fiction, at Technovology

Weapons in Science Fiction, at Technovology

— Here’s a book —

Wysocki, Edward M., Jr., An ASTOUNDING War: Science Fiction and World War II, CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, April 16, 2015

— Lots of Cool Videos —

Because Science – Kyle Hill

Why Every Movie Space Battle Is Wrong ((at Nerdist) 5/11/17)

The Truth About Space War (4/12/18)

Curious Droid – Paul Shillito

Electromagnetic Railguns – The U.S Military’s Future Superguns – 200 mile range Mach 7 projectiles (11/4/17)

Will Directed Energy Weapons be the Future? (6/12/20)

Generation Films – Allen Xie

Best Space Navies in Science Fiction (2/10/20)

5 Most Brilliant Battlefield Strategies in Science Fiction (5/8/20)

5 Things Movies Get Wrong About Space Combat (5/12/20)

6 More Things Movies Get Wrong About Space Battles (5/28/20)

Why “The Expanse” Has the Most Realistic Space Combat (6/21/20)

It’s Okay To Be Smart – Joe Hanson

The Physics of Space Battles (9/22/14)

PBS SpaceTime – Matt O’Dowd

The Real Star Wars (7/19/17)

5 Ways to Stop a Killer Asteroid (11/18/15)

 Science & Futurism with Isaac Arthur (SFIA) – Isaac Arthur

Space Warfare (11/24/16)

Force Fields (7/27/17)

Interplanetary Warfare (8/31/17)

Interstellar Warfare (3/8/18)

Planetary Assaults & Invasions (5/17/18)

Attack of the Drones (9/13/18)

Battle for The Moon (11/15/18)

The Infographics Show

What If There Was War in Space? (12/23/18)

Railguns and more! – The Battle of Thoth Station, in “The Expanse”

Rocinante Attack on Thoth Station (Episode “Doors & Corners”) “The Expanse”, Season 2, Episode 2 (Air Date 2/1/17), at DailyMotion

List of “The Expanse” Episodes, at Wikipedia

Art: “The Luck of Ignatz” – Virgil Finlay’s Preliminary cover for Astounding Science Fiction, August, 1939

Pinterest

Artnet

 

Far Away, So Close: The Fall of B-24 Liberator “Marty the Rubble Maker” – Follow-up…

Back in late 2016, I created three posts (first, second, and third) about a series of stunning WW II Army Air Force photographs showing the loss of B-24H Liberator Marty the Rubble Maker (42-52096), an aircraft of the 722nd Bomb Squadron, 450th Bomb Group (the Cottontails), of the 15th Air Force, on May 12, 1944 – seventy-six years ago this month.

Recently, I received the following communication from aviation historian Brian Lindner:

Your story on Lt. J.C. Wood’s crew and their fate is truly excellent.   I have been researching their story at NARA and other sources and found your article completely accurate.

I am writing a book that will center around the fates of the crewmen from about 25 famous aviation photos at NARA.  My hope is to complete the research phase in late 2020 or early 2021.

Would it be possible to obtain permission to quote from your article?  If yes, how should it be credited?

Thank you in advance for your consideration.

PS:  The link to the photo showing Hodge and Platt doesn’t work.

I want to thank Brian for his very nice compliments about my post(s).

By all means, they certainly can be quoted from!

As far as crediting my work goes, hmmm, that’s a good question…

…perhaps the bibliographical reference should be in the format:

“Far Away, So Close: The Fall of a B-24 Liberator Off the Coast of Italy” (Parts I, II, and III), at ThePastPresented.com, December 29, 2016, accessed on such-and-such-calendar-dates(s)

(Thanks for the tip about the hyperlink: It’s repaired!)

On a related note, Brian has a story – Unwraveling the Mystery of the ‘Little Warrior’ – at the July, 2009 issue of Wicked.local, concerning Lt. Sidney Benson, a co-pilot in the 862nd Bomb Squadron, 493rd Bomb Group, 8th Air Force.  Lt. Benson’s plane, B-24H Liberator 42-94812 (“Little Warrior” – “8M * X”), piloted by 2 Lt. John H. Hansen, was shot down by flak on June 29, 1944.  The plane’s loss is covered in MACR 6721 and German Luftgaukommando Report KU 2389. 

Brian’s article is based on an official Army Air Force photo which I’m sure is very well known to those familiar with WW II aviation history, and just as much – WW II history – “in general”, for the photo has appeared in books and magazines over the past several decades.  For a time in the 1990s (?) the image (sans any explanatory information) was even used as a header illustration for advertisements for some sort of military book club, which appeared in the magazine section of some Sunday newspapers.

Akin to the image of Marty the Rubble Maker, I similarly first saw this photo in Steve Birdsall’s Log of the Liberators.  In 2012, I was able to scan (at 600 dpi) the official USAAF photo (53708AC) at the National Archives.  The picture is shown below. 

The perspective of the image is deceptive, for the USAAF photographic print is actually a cropped view from the original image, the latter revealing that the bomber is actually making an abrupt bank to the right rather than being in level flight.  A clue: The dark object in the upper left is actually the leading edge of the port fin of the B-24 from which the photo was taken.

Of greater importance than the plane is her crew.  

None returned. 

So, here are the men of the “Little Warrior”… 

Rear, L-R:

2 Lt. Jerome Levy, 0-703639, Navigator, Camden, N.J.
2 Lt. Sidney A. Benson, 0-818558, Co-Pilot, Marblehead, Ma.
2 Lt. John W. Hansen, 0-693976, Pilot, New York, N.Y.
2 Lt. Malcolm M. Stich, 0-697746, Bombardier, Brooklyn, N.Y.
T/Sgt. Vernon J. Polzin, 38367667, Flight Engineer, Taylor, Tx.

Front, L-R:

S/Sgt. Cyrus R. Aidala, 32707915, Ball Turret Gunner, Brooklyn, N.Y.
“Sandy Saunders, Top Turret Gunner”
(Same as S/Sgt. John E. Sanders?, 18191467, “Flexible Gunner”, Goose Creek, Tx.?)
S/Sgt. Walter A. Boykowski, 13171280, Tail Gunner, Pittock, Pa.
“Sgt. Ramos, Radio Operator” (not in crew during mission of June 29)
S/Sgt. Sylvanus G. Haksell, 39297646, Nose Gunner, El Centro, Ca.
Not in photograph:
S/Sgt. Billy B. Gomillion, 38424702, Radio Operator, Wichita Falls, Tx.

From my reading of the MACR, I realized that Lt. Benson escaped from the plane (how?) but didn’t survive.  I always had my “suspicions” but didn’t know – until reading Brian’s Wicked Local story – what actually happened to him after he safely parachuted to earth.

Alas, the story is sad; appalling; infuriating.

Yet, well told: Brian has done fine research, and relates the tale in a compelling manner.  You can also read about his research at the Boston Globe.

His forthcoming book should be interesting…!

The Missing Photos – III: Five Among the Missing: The Loss of a 38th Bomb Group B-25 Crew – “What will become of them no one knows…”

Nearly seventy-six years ago – on Wednesday, November 3, 1943 – an officer of the 823rd Bomb Squadron of the 38th “Sunsetter” Bomb Group made entries in his squadron’s historical records concerning that day’s central event:  A strike mission along the New Guinea coast from Alexishafen to Bogadjim, to attack barges, buildings, and concealed enemy troops. 

The outcome of the mission was reported as follows:

Our pilots and crews took off again to slap the little Jap off the map.  Nine B-25Gs took off at 0713L to blast out barges, possible large hideouts and buildings from Alexishafen south of Bogadjim, New Guinea.  Fighter cover was effected over Nadzab at an altitude of 3500 feet.  The fighter escort consisted of P-47s.  The flights were of three planes each and were led by the flights of the 822nd Squadron.  28 x 500 lb. 4-5 second delay demolition bombs were dropped in specific targets.  Many of the bombs scored direct hits on barges along the coast.  1 bomb dropped safe due to rack failure and 3 bombs were returned to base due to mechanical failure.  82 rounds of 75mm were fired on runs with a number scoring hits and the remainder with no visible results.  Villages and hideouts were thoroughly strafed with 6100 x .50 calibre and 1300 x .30 calibre ammunition.  Photos were taken of the strike.

Next followed remarks covering events experienced by specific aircraft and crews, focusing on battle damage, and, the loss of B-25G 42-64850:

The ack-ack encountered was moderate inaccurate and heavy coming from Madang, Alexishafen and Erimhafen Plantation.  Plane no. 769, piloted by Remshaw, received a hole in the bomb bay door from fragment of 20mm.  Plane No. 874, piloted by Shulich, received large hole in left vertical stabilizer from undetermined type of shell.  Plane No. 850, the crew of which were Smith F/O pilot, Newland O.T. co-pilot, Chapin R.D.  navigator, Anagos T. radio man, Boykin J.R. gunner crashed in water between Bili Bili Island and mainland.  Cause unknown but thought due to loss of power due to damage from ack-ack.  All five crew members last seen in life raft, apparently uninjured, rowing toward Bili Bili Island.

Throughout the attack no interception was encountered.  The remaining eight planes landed at Durand at 1135/L.

The next day – November 4 – no combat missions were flown by the 823rd Bomb Squadron.  This brief pause in operations gave the squadron historian time to ponder the fate of the missing crew, his brief notes encompassing the hope for their rescue against their more likely fate as captives of the Japanese.  Specifically:

All crew members express deep sorrow for the five crew members who were last seen in a life raft heading toward Bili Bili Island.  What will become of them no one knows.  Let’s hope that they are safe.

Alas, they were not safe.

They would never return. 

Today, the five crew members of B-25G #850 – Smith, Newland, Chapin, Anagos, and Boykin – remain among the over 73,000 American servicemen still missing from the Second World War.  Barring a fortuitous archival or archeological discovery, they will probably ever remain as such: “Missing in Action”. 

But, the historical record of this crew’s loss is singularly different from the overwhelming majority of accounts of Allied World War Two aviators lost in either the Pacific or European Theaters of War.  This is because the Missing Air Crew Report covering the crew’s loss – MACR 1087, to be specific – includes a photograph of the crew (albeit, as viewed from a distance) as last seen by fellow members of the 823rd Bomb Squadron en route back to the 38th Bomb Group’s base at Port Moresby. 

The photograph was first discovered as I was reviewing MACRs via Fold3.com, which database / website many readers of this post are probably well familiar.  The Fold3 version of this image is shown below: 

In August of 2014, I had the rare opportunity, during a visit to the National Archives in College Park, of viewing and digitizing the original (?) “physical” (!) MACR and the included photograph (see “The Missing Photos”). 

So, here is the above image, as copied via an EpsonPerfection V600 scanner.

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The “first” page of MACR 1087, covering the loss of B-25G 42-64850, a 75mm cannon-equipped ship – is shown below:

The following comments were recorded by the 823rd Bomb Squadron’s Statistical Officer, 2 Lt. Homer L. Cotham, and appear on the “second” page of the MACR:

(12) Plane, while flying formation at low altitude over target, suddenly lost altitude striking water.  The plane bounced twice, then sank immediately.  Entire crew seen in Life Raft making for island in near vicinity of accident.

(13) Plane crashed in water four miles south of Madang, three-quarters of a mile off shore, in near vicinity of Bili Bili Island, N.G.

(15) Extent of search:  Catalina flying boat attempted to reach vicinity of accident or crash the night of October [sic] third.  This attempt was incomplete due to weather.

The plane’s loss was described by Squadron Operations Officer Capt. William Brandon, who stated:

While flying on Mission number 306 H, Alexishafen to Bogadjim Road Barge Sweep, I was leading flight number one.  Flight Officer Smith was flying number three left wing position at the time that I took my flight in over the target.  When next I looked to check the planes in my formation I saw Flight Officer Smith’s plane in the water.

Circling the plane as it sank I dropped a life-raft.  This life-raft sank but the crew of the sunken plane were able to safely board the raft from their own plane.

When last sighted all members of the crew were observed aboard life-raft making towards the vicinity of Bili Bili Island, N.G., course undetermined.

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Unlike MACRs which specify the last-known latitude and longitude of a missing aircraft, the location of B-25G #850’s loss is simply given in words: “Off Bili Bili Island.”

To give you a frame of reference of the location of Bili Bili Island, here are two Google Maps – each having Google Maps’ red location pointer centered upon Bili Bili Island – showing the location of that tiny geographic feature.

This first map shows New Guinea and northern Australia, with – moving west to east – the Arafura Sea, Gulf of Carpentaria, and Coral Sea between the two land masses.  Bili Bili Island is located approximately 360 miles west-southwest of Rabaul, just off the eastern coast of New Guinea, and south of Madang. 

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In this second map, Bili Bili Island is not visible, but locations mentioned in the MACR – Alexishafen and Madang – are.  These towns lie along the western shore of Astrolabe Bay, which body of water remains unlabeled.

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Moving from the pixels of 2017 to the paper of 1943, MACR 1087 includes C.I.U. (Central Interpretation Unit) Map No. 36 of the Alexishafen area.  The location of the B-25’s loss, about half-way between Bili Bli Island and the New Guinea coast, is denoted by an “X” within a small circle.

(By way of comparison, here’s the map as it appears at Fold3.com.)

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At a slightly larger scale than the C.I.U. map is the Google map below.  This closer view reveals that Bili Bili Island is approximately 3 miles south of the southern limits of Madang, and about 1.3 miles east of the New Guinea mainland.  Oddly, Google Maps leaves the island un-named, with the designation “Bil-Bil” superimposed on the opposite shoreline.  Is there a village by that name at this location? 

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Finally, at the same scale as the preceding map, we come to a Google Earth view of Bili Bili Island and Astrolabe Bay.

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Pacific Wrecks clearly describes the loss of un-nicknamed B-25G 42-64850, surmising that the men were captured and died in captivity, while the Pacific Wrecks essay concerning the fate of allied POWs at Amron, New Guinea (Death at Amron – by Undersea Explorer / Documentary Film-Maker Walter Deas) suggests that the Smith crew may have murdered at that Japanese base, a “hilltop high-ground 16 kilometers north of Madang,” which served as a Japanese Army headquarters and Kempeitai facility. 

Pacific Wrecks’ history of the Japanese Army base at Amron, which served as a lookout point and headquarters for the 18th Army and Kempeitai, lists the names of eleven Allied airmen (nine Americans and two Australians) who were confirmed to have been murdered at that location, and, five others who probably suffered the same fate, all between June, 1943 and April, 1944. 

However, the members of the Smith crew are not listed among the sixteen.

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The Capture of the Smith Crew

The Smith crew were definitely captured.  This information comes from three sources.  

In reverse chronological order, these comprise the 2011 book Sun Setters of the Southwest Pacific Area – From Australia to Japan: An Illustrated History of the 38th Bombardment Group (m), 5th Air Force, World War II – 1941-1946, As Told and Photographed by the Men Who Were There (by Lawrence J. Hickey, Mark M. Janko, Stuart W. Goldberg, and Osamu Tagaya); 1944 newspaper articles in (unidentified) Buffalo area newspapers, and most strikingly, transcripts of English-language Japanese propaganda broadcasts to the western United States covering the mens’ capture

In 2011

As described in Sunsetters: “Capt. Bill Brandon led the 823rd Squadron, and when his flight of three planes reached Bili Bili, roughly halfway between Alexishafen and Bogadjim, he and his wingmen dropped their bombs between the area’s plantation and Bili Bili Island, just off the coast.  As his bomb bay doors were closing, Capt. Brandon looked out his window and was shocked to see that Flight Officer Richard Smith’s plane was in the water.

Brandon circled back and dropped a life raft to the downed crew.  Smith’s plane sunk immediately after hitting the water, but he and his crew escaped and climbed into the raft.  The men were last seen rowing toward Bili Bili Island, where they were captured and interrogated by the Kempei Tai, the Japanese Military Secret Police.  Major Nakamoto, the 18th Army Staff Intelligence Officer, led the interrogation, which lasted roughly a week.  Afterward they were taken a mile southwest to a POW compound, then transported to Wewak.  They were never heard from again.”  (Unfortunately, there no bibliographic reference for the source of this information.) 

Pacific Wrecks history of the Wewak POW Camp (Kreer POW Camp) lists the names of three airmen (members of Captain William L. “Kizzy” Kizzire’s crew, about whom see more below) who were confirmed as having been POWs there.  Neither they, nor any other Allied POWs presumed to have been held captive at that location – the Smith crew among them? – survived the war.    

Late 1943 and early 1944

News items concerning F/O Smith from The Buffalo Evening News.

The first news item simply mentions Smith’s “Missing in Action” status.

Flight Officer Richard Smith

Overseas since last March, Flt. O. Smith has been stationed in New Guinea and had been piloting a bomber.  His last letter to his mother was written Nov. 3, the day on which he was reported missing while on a mission over New Britain.  Graduated from District School 3, West Seneca, and West Seneca High School, he was a carrier for The Buffalo Evening News before entering the employ of the Bethlehem Steel Company.  He enlisted in the Air Forces June 28, 1941.

News about F/O Smith’s capture was published in February or March of 1944, in the context of news about the death of his cousin and fellow Buffalo resident, Army Private Floyd C. Smith.

WAR-SERVICE FLAG HONORING 4 SMITHS NOW HAS GOLD STAR

Patrolman Wayne Smith, a grizzled veteran of 20 years’ service as a West Seneca policeman, went about the sad task of replacing one of the four blue stars in the family’s service flag with a gold star today.  He has just been notified by the War Department that his son, Pvt. Floyd C. Smith, 19, who had been previously reported missing in action in Italy, now is known definitely to have been killed.

What makes the news even more tragic for the smith family is that over on the other side of the world Flight Officer Richard Smith, 23, a nephew of Patrolman Smith, is a prisoner of the Japs.  Richard is the son of Albert Smith, an electrician, of 17 Klass Ave., West Seneca, and was taken prisoner last Nov. 3, when a twin-engine bomber he was flying was forced down on a flight from New Guinea to New Britain.

Two other members of the Smith family are in the nation’s service.  One is Pvt. Wayne Smith Jr., 21, a brother of Floyd, who has been unheard of in recent weeks and is believed to be overseas, and the other is Seaman First Class Milton D. Smith, 38, an uncle of Floyd and Richard, who is now at sea.  Milton’s home address is 80 Hayden St., Buffalo.

“I guess the war is proving kind of hard on the Smiths,” commented Patrolman Smith in his home at 25 Harlem Rd., West Seneca.  “But I guess the same thing is happening to the Smiths all over the country.  I wish I were a little younger I’d go in and take Floyd’s place.  The last word we received from Floyd was about seven weeks ago when he wrote that ‘everything is swell’.  Shortly after that he was reported missing.  But we didn’t give up hope until the second telegram came.”

Floyd was inducted in the Army in April 1943 after he had been working at the Curtiss-Wright Corporation airport plant for about five months.  He was a native of West Seneca and was in his third year at West Seneca High School when he left school for war work.  Assigned to an infantry unit, he had been in North Africa before going to Italy.

News of his death has been kept from his grandmother, Mrs. Fannie Smith, who is ill and also lives at 25 Harlem Rd., West Seneca. (1)

A particular sentence in the article stands out:  “Richard … was taken prisoner last Nov. 3, when a twin-engine bomber he was flying was forced down on a flight from New Guinea to New Britain.”

How was this known by early 1944? 

Probably through English-language radio broadcasts transmitted from Tokyo, and beamed to the Western United States and Latin America, from…

November of 1943 through April of 1944.

Entitled “Message From the Front”, these broadcasts pertained to American aviators – members of the Marine Corps and Army Air Force – who had been captured in the Southwest Pacific between early 1943 and early 1944.    

Transcripts of these broadcasts are among records in the National Archives and Records Administration’s “Records of the Foreign Broadcast Intelligence Service.” 

The “Message From the Front” broadcasts were transmitted at 0330 hours, albeit transcripts of the programs don’t specify if “3:30 hours” means Greenwich Mean Time, the Western time zone of the United States, or, Tokyo Time.  The transcripts are headed by a surname, presumably that of the person who monitored and transcribed the program as it was received and monitored, in “real time”.  These people were Berman, Bernstein, Hanson, Keller, Litwin, Roth, Sachter, Searl, and Teel.

Though varying greatly in content and length, the broadcasts follow a generally similar “script,” albeit with substantial variation.  They generally commence with an introduction covering political or social effects of the war on American Society, as a whole.  Sometimes, emphasis is placed on the contrast between the hardships endured by American soldiers and civilians, in contrast with the attitude – as it were – of American military and political leaders.  

Then, the broadcasts focus upon the POWs themselves.

In all cases, the bulk of the broadcast is devoted to a presentation of detailed – quite detailed; very detailed – biographical information about the Prisoner of War, and may cover such topics as the circumstance under which he was shot down and captured, the type of aircraft he was flying, and his biography, the latter including his education and civilian vocation.  In virtually every case the broadcast concludes with a recitation of highly personal, information about his next of kin, comprising names and addresses of family members – whether wives, parents, or siblings – the material, financial, or emotional challenges they’re contending with, and, other facets of their lives.

In some cases – disquieting to read; still disquieting to contemplate, even decades later – special focus is accorded to the physical, psychological, and emotional reaction of the POW to captivity, sometimes including quotations of statements allegedly made by the POW to his captors.

It’s conjecture on my part, but I suppose that the information in the “Message From the Front” broadcasts was extracted from transcripts of interrogation sessions endured by the POWs, then provided to officials in the Japanese media responsible for disseminating propaganda.  The original text was edited to varying degrees for maximum dramatic effect.

In that sense, a consistent and unsurprising facet of the broadcasts is the complete absence of information about American military technology or tactics.  Unsurprising, in that the purpose of the broadcasts was probably psychological warfare:  To influence public opinion and therefore contribute to a sense of demoralization.  If this was so, this rested on an extremely naive understanding of the nature of American society.  (At least, as it existed eight decades ago.  But, that’s another subject.) 

In terms of the Smith crew, “Message From the Front” broadcasts pertain to Sgt. Boykin (February 9, 1944), Sgt. Anagos (February 16, 1944), Lt. Chapin (March 8, 1944), and F/O Smith (on March 29, 1944).  There is no record of a broadcast concerning F/O Newland.

For the purpose of this post, two transcripts will suffice.

Here is the broadcast covering Sergeant Anagos, transmitted on February 16, 1944, as transcribed by “Roth” and “Teel”:

A MESSAGE FROM THE FRONT

Your subject for today is the Boeing bomber that flew on without a pilot.  Hello listeners, this time Radio Tokyo presents an eye-witness report from a member of the Japanese army press participating at a certain front in the New Guinea sector.  Yes, it is a very strange story.  It is worth coming under the category of believe it or not.  It is an unusual story for the outsiders but it is [stunning] news for no other person than Mrs. Phyllis Anagnos, whose address is eight-four-one-seven North Military Avenue, Detroit, Michigan.  Should it happen that Mrs. Anagnos is listening to this broadcast, radio Tokyo advises here to keep up [word].  It is so far from being good news, but a very depressing [two words] can be seen.  Well, she may feel easy that her husband Sergeant Theodore Anagnos is no by means dead.  Instead of ending his life, he has been taken prisoner by the Japanese forces, [and being a prisoner] of war, he cannot return to his beloved wife so long as America does not make unconditional surrender to Japan.  If Mrs. Anagnos wishes to see her husband, she had better write a letter to Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt asking for help.  No doubt the sympathetic Mrs. Roosevelt might take it that she might be under the circumstances with the wife of [few words].  Mrs. Roosevelt [three words] cell every day at the White House wailing bitterly before President Roosevelt and insisting upon the release of Theodore Anagnos.  Well, wait a moment, Mrs. Theodore Anagnos is yet happy because her husband is enjoying good health at a prisoner’s camp of the Japanese Army.  One day he told a member of the Japanese Army [press], that he saw at a certain American movie show [three words] featuring Clark Gable.  He said Gable was [wonderful].  He went on to say I have a wife but to tell you the truth, I have [few words] how marvelous it would be if I could see [several words].  It is as if I am playing the very same role as Gable was in this film.  Sergeant Anagnos [few words].  Mrs. Anagnos can depend upon it that her husband is quite [jovial].  Radio Tokyo is not responsible for his relationship with [two words].  That is a matter for Mrs. Anagnos to conduct a cross examination of her husband in person, in the event he should come back to America.

[Remainder of commentary unintelligible.]

Here’s the broadcast covering Flight Officer Smith, transmitted on March 29, 1944, as transcribed by “Hanson”:

MESSAGE FROM THE FRONT

Once again we bring you information of the officers and men [seven words inaudible].

Radio Tokyo proposes to give you details that are not available from any other source.  Many of the folks back home are not told that a large number of their boys are being held prisoners of war in Japanese hands.  These boys are spending their daily life in an entirely different frame of mind – I say different in the sense that their outlook of life in general at the time when they sallied forth from the United States is no longer apparent.  Having become accustomed to their new environment, they have regained their presence of mind.  Yes, they have come down to earth.  They are now able to see through the realities of things in general.  Like an ancient philosopher, they have had an ample opportunity to reflect on the past and quietly analyze the present.

Here is the story of one of the men as brought to us by a Japanese Army correspondent.  His name is Richard Smith.  To be more concise, Richard Smith is a Second Lieutenant belonging to the Twentieth Bomber Squadron, and the Fifth Bomber Group of the United States Air Corps.  Smith is twenty-four years old and hails from Buffalo, New York.  The address is Seventeen Klaas Avenue, Buffalo, New York.  Second Lieutenant Richard Smith was a pilot at the time of his capture.

Anyone listening on this broadcast will be doing a great favor for Richard and his folks if he, or she, would notify Mr. Albert Smith, the father of Second Lieutenant Richard Smith, at Seventeen Klaas Avenue, Buffalo, New York, that his son is in good hands under the care of the Japanese army authorities.  The War Department at Washington may have listed him as missing, as they have done to hundreds of others.  But as far as Second Lieutenant Richard Smith is concerned, he is very much accounted for, and in good shape, as a prisoner of war of Japan.

One of the things that Second Lieutenant Richard Smith inquired of our Japanese army correspondent is whether or not there were other officers in active service who come from Annapolis.  By the way, I mean to add that Second Lieutenant Richard Smith is an Annapolis man.  He would like to know why it is that there were no other Annapolis men on the front line.  The officers that had come across were all reserve officers.  Second Lieutenant Smith is anxious to know whether it is the policy of the War Department at Washington to spare the services of all full-fledged academy men.  One can fully appreciate the complaint on the part of Smith of being placed on the front line while his colleagues are being given posts in [such safe] positions well to the rear.

Another point brought out by Second Lieutenant Richard Smith was the fact that there is too much favoritism given to the pilots over the ground troops.  One of his friends at Port Moresby was a member of the regular [crew].  According to Smith, the pilots are given two weeks furlough after serving two and a half months on the front lines; whereas, the ground forces are allowed but one week after four solid months of drudgery.

Here is a tip from Second Lieutenant Richard Smith to the young men back in the States.  “If you are ever counting on serving the United States Air Corps, stick to the flying end and steer clear of any jobs oiling and repairing planes, which one has no chance of flying [himself].”  Of course, as Smith would put it you are taking chances against one of the toughest enemies, the Japanese Zero fighter.  Whether you care to agree with Second Lieutenant Richard Smith or not, the fact remains that there is a wealth of difference between being a pilot and being just one of the boys in the ground force.

Another factor pointed out to our Japanese Army Correspondent by Second Lieutenant Smith that once you are sent out on the [word] front, there is no chance of knowing just what the score is.  It is common knowledge that the United States Army Air Corps is a fanatic stickler for the “hush hush” policy of keeping all things under cover.  I mean among the officers and men themselves.  According to Second Lieutenant Smith, he knows the name and rank of his squadron commander but he has yet to hear the name of his group commander.  Worse than that, he has never seen the face of his group commander.  None of his comrades seem to know for that matter.  Where is there any army that knows not the identity or the name of his superior officer?  Second Lieutenant Richard Smith is in dead earnest, as anyone can tell that he wasn’t telling a lie.  He really doesn’t know.  Here is the great American mystery of an officer who does not know, or rather, he is not told just who are his comrades even in [his adjoining fortress].

Asked why he could not become more intimate with the other officers, Second Lieutenant Richard Smith said that he had been warned by his superiors to avoid mixing with the other officers.  Hence, he had no knowledge as to the number or the designation or what had become of many of the officers once they [leave] [word or two].  The question naturally arises, “Why are the American air officers forbidden to associate with each other?”  The answer is simple.  It is the policy of secrecy.  The authorities are on pins and needles in trying to keep all information as to the personal losses from reaching the ears of the men.  Any divulgence of actual losses incurred by the United States Army Air Force [several words] would no doubt unbalance the morale of the rank and file.  So there you are.  It’s a mighty wise policy for a [word] which has lost quite a number of his valuable men to keep that information under a tight lip.  What chances are there for the people back home to know just what has become of their boys?  At least, the folks of Second Lieutenant Richard Smith can congratulate themselves on the fact that their boy is [quite safe and sound].

Though these two “Message From the Front” broadcasts were transmitted on February 16 and March 29, that fact does not imply that the POWs were still alive at that time.  Some “Message From the Front” broadcasts were transmitted on dates after the POWs to which they pertained were no longer alive. 

For example, 1 Lt. Joseph W. Hill (husband of Roberta Hill, of 602 Palmetto Ave., De Land, Florida) of the 70th Fighter Squadron, 18th Fighter Group, lost on August 26, 1943, while flying P-40F 41-19834

Captured and held captive at Rabaul, he was the subject of a broadcast on April 29, 1944.  Nearly two months before, on March 4 or 5, 1944, he was one of the 32 American and Australian POWs (19 USAAF, 5 USMC, and 8 RAAF) who were murdered during the “Tunnel Hill Incident”.  Lt. Hill’s flight school portrait, one of the thousands of similar images in the National Archives’ collection “Photographic Prints of Air Cadets and Officers, Air Crew, and Notables in the History of Aviation – NARA RG 18-PU”, appears below:

As for the Sunsetters, only one member of the Group survived captivity.  He was Major Willison Madison Cox, of Knoxville, Tennessee.  (3) 

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What then, of the Smith crew?

Akin to MACR 1423 for the crew of the 7th Air Force B-24D Liberator Dogpatch Express, covered in my earlier posts, “Upon An Endless Sea” and “Portraits of the Fallen: The Crew of the Dogpatch Express, in Photographs”, MACR 1087 (like many “early” (and not only “early”) Missing Aircrew Reports covering multi-place aircraft) carries neither the home addresses nor the names of the crewmens’ next-of-kin. 

The men are “anonymous”; they are simply names and serial numbers, without real identities.

However, akin to the crew of Dogpatch Express, it’s been possible to “reconstruct” nominal biographical information about these men.  This was done using War Department Bureau of Public Relations Press Branch Casualty List issued on 13 December, 1943 (from the United States National Archives) and especially – particularly – various databases at Ancestry.com.  Using these resources, the identities of the men’s next-of-kin, and wartime places of residence could be identified. 

So, briefly, this is who they were:

Pilot: Smith, Richard, F/O, T-186554
Mr. and Mrs. Albert R. [Died June 7, 1965] and Mary (Hellinger) Smith (parents), 17 Klass Ave., Buffalo, N.Y.
Mentioned in Buffalo Courier-Express December 14, 1943.  Mr. Albert Smith’s obituary appeared in the same newspaper on June 10, 1965. 

Co-Pilot: Newland, Otis Terrell, F/O, T-346
Born 1920, in Texas
Mr. and Mrs. Cam Alexander and Catherine C. Newland (parents), Joe L. Newland (brother), Route 3, Lone Oak, Tx.

Navigator: Chapin, Robert Dudley, Jr., 2 Lt., 0-671281
Born 1921
Lt. Cdr. and Mrs. Robert Dudley [May 20, 1876 – 1945] and Sara (Newton) [1882 – August 21, 1961] Chapin (parents); Linda Chapin [1907 – September 30, 1916] (sister), Cynthia (Chapin) Taylor (sister) [April 1, 1917 – September 12, 1982], 20 Huntington St., Hartford, Ct.

The above genealogical information about the Chapin family is by FindAGrave contributor C. Greer, whose memorial / biographical profile for 2 Lt. Chapin includes a photograph of his parents’ tombstone, on which the younger Chapin’s name is inscribed. 

Due to uncertainty about copyright, I won’t display the photo “here”!  Rather, you can view the image at this link.     

Radio-Operator / Gunner: Anagnos, Theodore, Sgt., 32503485
Born 1914, in Oregon
Mrs. Phyllis H. Anagnos (wife), 8417 North Military Ave., Detroit, Mi.
Mr. and Mrs. Speros and Evangeline Anagnos (parents), George and Peter (brothers), 1301 Hart Ave., Detroit, Mi.

Gunner: Boykin, Johnnie Rayford, Sgt., 18121719
Born May 27, 1922, in Swenson, Texas
Mrs. Berna Dean (Stephens) Boykin (wife) (Born July 28, 1925, Mountainair, N.M. – Died November, 1982)
Johnnie Dean Boykin (son; born August 18, 1943 – died 2007) Dexter, N.M.
Mr. and Mrs. Roy Hammel and Lillian (King) Boykin (parents), Lee Roy Boykin (brother), Hagerman, N.M. / 408 W. 6th St., Roswell, N.M.

Some Observations

Born in the 1910s and 20s, they were, unsurprisingly and typically, all “young” men, with Sgt. Anagos – born in 1914 – having been the oldest.

Akin to radio operator Johnnie Boykin (yet unlike pilot Smith, co-pilot Newland, and navigator Chapin) Anagos was married. 

Johnnie Boykin (assuming I’ve interpreted records at Ancestry.com correctly – well, I think I have!) became a father while overseas.  His son, Johnnie Dean Boykin, was born in August of 1943.  Only two and a half months old by November 3, 1943, father and son would never meet.  Johnnie Dean died in 2007, while his mother, Berna Dean, passed away in 1982. 

Though I have no knowledge of the numbers of sorties flown by the crew, their ranks (the pilot and co-pilot were Flight Officers) and the identical military awards received by each crew member (according to the ABMC website, each aviator was awarded the Air Medal and Purple Heart) suggest (?) that they were a relatively “new” crew, having flown – either as a unit, or individually – no more than ten combat missions. 

To signify that these men were more than “data”; more than mere names and serial numbers; more than statistics, here’s the one portrait I was able to find of a crew member: Sergeant Boykin.  His photograph and biography are among World War Two Records of the State of New Mexico, which can be accessed at Ancestry.com.

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The airmen’s names are memorialized on the Walls of the Missing at the Manila American Cemetery in Luzon.   

The ABMC website gives each man’s date death as December 15, 1945, which likely reflects a date arbitrarily established by the Army upon the closure of the postwar investigation of the crew’s fate.

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But, what of the impetus for this post – the photograph itself…?

Scanned at 1200 dpi, it’s shown below. 

The image has several notable qualities.

In a purely photographic sense, the picture is comprised of three “elements” that “balance” one another: 

B-25G 42-64851 captured in flight, in the right center. (2)

A glassily calm sea extending to the horizon, a vague curtain of clouds suspended above, in the distance.

And both significantly and ironically, the smallest element in the image: The Smith crew, in their raft, can be seen at center left, probably headed for Bili Bili Island.  Of particular note, the silhouette of the aviator on the right (it looks like he’s wearing his Mae West) is clearly distinguishable against the surface of a remarkably smooth sea. 

Whether by chance, skill, or both – unfortunately, the MACR doesn’t list the photographer’s name! – the combination of composition, focus, lighting, and perspective is remarkable. 

Given that neither the mainland nor the island are visible, the “direction” towards the horizon (as opposed to the direction of flight of the overlying B-25) is probably either to the north-northeast (so Bili Bili island is out of view to the “right”), or … south-southwest (thus, Bili Bili Island is out of view, to the “left”).

In this, the image is strikingly reminiscent of and similar to a photograph – below (in Lawrence Hickey’s Warpath Across the Pacific, from the Melvin L. Best collection) – showing the crew of Captain William L. Kizzire standing atop the rear fuselage of their B-25D Mitchell (41-30046 – Impatient Virgin) after their plane was ditched during a low-level attack mission to Boram Strip, near Wewak, a little over three weeks later: on November 27, 1943. 

As listed at both Pacific Wrecks and Warpath, the men are:

Pilot: Capt. William L. “Kizzy” Kizzire, 0-726787, Greybull, Wy.
Co-Pilot: 2 Lt. Charles G. Reynolds, 0-661563, Bridgeport, Oh.
Navigator: 1 Lt. Joseph W. Carroll, Jr., 0-665898, Dallas, Tx.
Flight Engineer: S/Sgt. Wilfred J. Paquette, 31127441, Northampton, Ma. (Killed while POW)
Radio Operator: S/Sgt. Roy E. Showers, Jr., 18075424, Pampa, Tx. (Killed while POW)
Gunner: S/Sgt. Fred D. Nightwine, 13085578, Slippery Rock, Pa. (Killed while POW)

Akin to members of F/O Smith’s crew, three members of Captain Kizzire’s crew – Sergeants Nightwine, Paquette, and Showers – were the subject of radio propaganda broadcasts, transcripts of which are available at Pacific Wrecks’ Radio Tokyo Broadcasts in English. (4)

______________________________

Finally, two photographs. 

First, an April 2010 image of Astrolabe Bay – looking east towards the Bismarck Sea – by Jan Messersmith, from his blog Madang – Ples Bilong Mi: A Daily Journal of a Permanent Resident of Paradise.  Perhaps the crews of the Sunsetters saw a vista akin to this – actually, strikingly beautiful – on the third of November in the year 1943.

Second, to close the story – though its ending will likely ever remain uncertain; it will probably never be fully “closed”  – the Smith crew, in their raft, floating between the New Guinea mainland and Bili Bili Island.    

I’m not in possession of Individual Deceased Personnel Files for members of the Smith crew, but considering that the definitive fate of the crew has never been established, I would suppose that those documents would offer little to resolve the men’s fate.       

Well, it may be a trite expression, but it’s true:  Times marches on – and it proceedes quickly. 

Now 2019, only twenty-four more years remain until the year 2043.  By then, a century will have transpired since the November day when crew of B-25G #850 flew into history.  It would be as predumptuous as it would be naive (and probably inaccurate, to boot, though it would be intriguing!) to predict the nature of “that” world, for who in 1943 could have predicted the nature of “our” world; of 2019?     

But, despite changes in technology, economics, and science, one constant will remain, and has always remained:  That of human nature.  And part of that nature is the need; actually very necessity, to remember the past and those who were part of it.

Notes

(1)  Pvt. Smith, a soldier in the 133rd Infantry Regiment of the 34th Infantry Division, was killed in action on January 28, 1944. He is buried at the Sicily-Rome American Cemetery in Nettuno, Italy, at Grave 56, Row 10, Plot I.

(2)  Well, enlarged, the serial number of the overflying B-25G seems to be 42-64851!  A check of the Aviation Archeology database (unfortunately inaccessible for some time), and a hunting expedition at DuckDuckGo reveal no information about this aircraft. 

Fortunately, a review of B-25s assigned to the 823rd Bomb Squadron, listed in Appendix III of Sunsetters of the Southwest Pacific, reveals the following for this aircraft: “Possibly flown overseas by 2 Lt. George J. Maturi crew.  (August, 1943)  Transferred to 4th Air Depot (January 8, 1944), Townsville, then to 822nd BS.”  The plane is consequently listed among B-25s assigned to the 822nd Bomb Squadron, specifically on February 26, 1944.  After a mid-air collision on August 1, 1944, the aircraft was transferred to the 376th Service Squadron for salvage.

In this 1200 dpi scan, the pilot is clearly visible, while the head of the gunner can be seen within the dorsal turret.  Other details of the plane – such as the plexiglass tail-cone, which seems to have been strangely truncated, and open to the air – are also evident.

(3) The pilot of B-25D 41-30118 (Elusive Lizzie / Miss America, covered in MACR 16113) Major Cox’s was shot down during a mission to Madang on August 5, 1943.  One member of his crew, S/Sgt. Raymond H. Zimmerman, was killed when the aircraft crashed. The four remaining crewmen were captured, and eventually murdered at Amron.  Portraits of Major Cox and his navigator, 1 Lt. Louis J. Ritacco (from Port Chester, N.Y.) are shown below.  Akin to the portrait of Lieutenant Hill, their pictures are from NARA’s “Photographic Prints of Air Cadets and Officers, Air Crew, and Notables in the History of Aviation – NARA RG 18-PU”.  

Flight Cadet Williston Madison Cox, Jr.

Cadet Louis James Ritacco

Major Cox’s loss is given notable attention in Garrett Middlebrook’s Air Combat At 20 Feet, the cover art of which I hope to (some day!) display in my brother blog, WordsEnvisioned, illustrating cover and interior art in books and pulp magazines from the 40s and 50s (and even more…).

(4)  Of the numerous members of the 345th Bomb Group – the “Air Apaches” – who were known to have been taken captive, eight survived the war. 

Listed by date of capture, they were:

McGuire, James, 1 Lt., 0-674314, Pilot (Grants Pass, Or.)
Captured March 30, 1945, while piloting B-25J 44-29350 (500th Bomb Squadron), covered in MACR 15450.

A remarkable and chilling photograph of Lt. McGuire’s B-25, on fire and diving towards Yulin Kan Bay, at the southern tip of Hainan Island, is shown below.  This image, from the collection of Samuel W. Bennett (via Kevin Mahoney) appears in Lawrence Hickey’s Warpath Across the Pacific.

The latitude and longitude coordinates given for 44-29350’s loss are listed in the 500th Bomb Squadron Mission Report for the March 30 mission, as 18-10-20 N, 109-33-00 E, but they’re not given in the crew’s postwar “fill-in” MACR, which was filed on 10 April, 1946, 

When plugging this location Google Maps, the location generated is about halfway between “Shendao” and “Jinmu Corner”, just off the point of land projecting west.

The 3-D aerial view below gives you a better idea of the crash location, which is identified by Google Maps’ red pointer.  Intriguingly, the location (of course, the coordinates should be understood as being approximate), appears to be at the very end of a breakwater / jetty projecting west into Yulin Bay, between Shendao and Jinmu Corner.

Here’s a closer 3-D view…

The elevated terrain to the west of the “Yalong Bay National Tourism Holiday Resort” (the dark color of terrain, compared to the light-colored low-lying terrain just to its west, may simply be an artifact of image processing) might correspond to the ridge visible behind the descending B-25, in the Bennett collection photo shown above. 

Finally, for completeness, here’s a map of Hainan Island…

________________

Lawlis, Merritt E., Capt., 0-432168, Navigator (Indianapolis, In.)
Muller, Benjamin T., S/Sgt., 18090388, Radio Operator (El Paso, Tx.)
Captured April 3, 1945.  Crew members of 1 Lt. William P. Simpson, from B-25J 43-27888 “Pensive” (500th Bomb Squadron), covered in MACR 14225.

________________

Shott, John, Cpl., 33421756, Tail Gunner (Aliquippa, Pa.)
Captured May 17, 1945.  Crew member of 2 Lt. James T. Lackey, from B-25J 44-30164 (500th Bomb Squadron), covered in MACR 14447.

________________

Hart, Ted U., 2 Lt., Oak Park, Il., 0-771709, Pilot (Oak Park, Il.)
Gatewood, Henry, 2 Lt., 0-812542, Co-Pilot (Holly Springs, Ms.)
Ehlers, Karl L., 2 Lt., 0-1017008, Navigator (Niagara Falls, N.Y.)
Beck, Theron Kenneth, Cpl., 15364114, Radio Operator (Louisville, Ky.)
Captured May 27, 1945.  Aircraft B-25J 44-28152Apache Princess”, (501st Bomb Squadron), covered in MACR 14524.

______________________________

A Digression: Missing Air Crew Reports and the Destiny of Historical Documentation

The historical importance of Missing Air Crew Reports has been apparent since the declassification of these records in the 1980s.  Though obviously of central use in resolving the fate of missing WW II Army Air Force personnel, the information in these reports extends to areas as military technology, aerial combat tactics, air-sea rescue, outdoor survival (in all manner of terrains and climates), escape and evasion, the experiences of POWs, war crimes, and even in a subtle way – perhaps inevitably, though indirectly – the postwar readjustment of veterans and military casualties to civilian life, and genealogy.   

As presented in my earlier post, The Missing Photos: Photographic Images in Missing Air Crew Reports, I was very fortunate in 2014 to have had the opportunity to examine Missing Air Crew Reports in their “original” physical – print – format, ultimately making digital copies of a small number of these documents: specifically, those MACRs which include photographs. 

Having first learned about MACRS in the mid-1980s, this was a marked change from the way I’d previously accessed and studied these documents.  That effort was first done using microfiche copies purchased from NARA, next through visits to the National Archives in College Park, and finally, in digital format, via Fold3. 

It was through latter format that I conducted the bulk of my research into these documents.  Ironically, though the nominal ability to access and study MACRs via Fold3 has been extraordinarily convenient (and hey, fewer road trips via I-95 – ugh! – to College Park) and productive (searching by MACR number, surname, or aircraft serial number is extremely useful), I discovered that the potential value of digitized MACRs on Fold3 is severely hampered by the quality of images of the MACRs, and, the design of the Fold3 MACR database. 

This problem was described by aviation historian Frank J. Olynyk in a 2012 post at the 12oclockhigh forum, which is worth reading in detail.

I can verify Mr. Olynyk’s observations.  

As he described, many Missing Aircrew Reports,are simply; completely absent from Fold3.  (An example: Try searching for MACRs 3500 and 3631, for B-24H 42-95064 (464th BG, 778th BS) piloted by 2 Lt. Edward J. Barres, or, search by the bomber’s serial number.  Good luuuck…!)  This is even true for reports far “higher” in the numerical sequence of the documents than the mid-3000 range.

In addition, the quality of some scans, primarily among low-numbered MACRs (and even among some higher numbered MACRs) is extremely poor – sometimes so much as to render some digitized MACRs to be, well, er, uh…useless. 

This is particularly ironic in light of Fold3’s company history, which states, “The concept for Fold3 is rooted in the company’s years of experience in the digitization business as iArchives, Inc.  Starting in 1999, iArchives digitized historical newspapers and other archive content for leading universities, libraries and media companies across the United States.

From the beginning, the iArchives team developed a unique understanding of the value of creating an online repository for the world’s original source documents.  Leveraging the proprietary systems and patented processes built for the digitization of paper, microfilm and microfiche collections, the management team made a strategic decision:  Use the iArchives platform to provide access to these historically significant and valuable collections.

Uh?  Okay.

Conjecture:  These problems seem to have resulted from two factors. 

First, the primary source material seems to have been the fiche version of the MACRs, rather than the original documents themselves.

Second, perhaps the low-numbered documents (er … um … I mean fiche) comprised the start of the learning curve by which the processors (who? where? when? how?) became familiar with procedures for digitization.  If so, once digitizing and data entry had been systemized, any poor quality scans eventuating from the initial efforts at scanning – of low-numbered MACRs – were never replaced by a “second round” of suitable, better quality images.  Similarly, errors or gaps from the processing of higher-numbered MACRs were likewise not corrected.

(Admittedly, conjecture on my part.)

What’s not uncertain is the potential – in terms of ease of searchability and quality of both images and information – that could have resulted from a better-designed and implemented effort at document processing and scanning.  Given what I observed of the physical quality of the original MACRs (they’ve held up very well over nearly eight decades) the original documents could have been (carefully; conscientiously) scanned at high resolution, and, in color.  Paralleling this, the database by which the MACRs are accessed could have been designed with an altogether different primary key (as per Mr. Olynyk’s suggestion), or, multiple primary keys. 

In this, I’m reminded of the database of the National Archives of Australia, or that of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, which in terms of aesthetic design, ease of use, presentation of results to the user, and quality of digital files, are very, very (very) impressive.

While obviously Fold3’s MACR collection is only one of numerous repositories of digital documents available through that website (owned by Ancestry.com since 2010), not a stand-alone collection with a dedicated website, the potential held for something much better.  

In summary, though this digital resource is certainly valuable and useful, it is absolutely nowhere near what it could have been – in terms of quality, usability, and accuracy – had the design and creation of the product really been undergirded by measures of thought, planning, and quality control.

References

Books

Grover, Roy C., Incidents in the Life of a B-25 Pilot, AuthorHouse, October 19, 2006

Hickey, Lawrence J.; Janko, Mark M.; Goldberg, Stuart W., and Tagaya, Osamu, Sun Setters of the Southwest Pacific Area – From Australia to Japan: An Illustrated History of the 38th Bombardment Group (m), 5th Air Force, World War II – 1941-1946, As Told and Photographed by the Men Who Were There, International Historical Research Associates, Boulder, Co. (and) The 38th Bomb Group Association – (or) Albert A. Kennedy, Sr. (or) David Gunn, 2011

Hickey, Lawrence J., Warpath Across the Pacific: The Illustrated History of the 345th Bombardment Group During World War II, International Research and Publishing Corporation, Boulder, Co., 1984

Maurer Maurer, Air Force Combat Units of World War Two, Office of Air Force History, Washington, D.C. (Reprint from United States Government Printing Office, 1961), 1983

Middlebrook, Garrett, Air Combat At 20 Feet – Selected Missions From A Strafer Pilot’s Diary (A World War II Autobiography), Garrett Middlebrook, Fort Worth, Tx., 1989

“Message From the Front” – Japanese Radio Broadcasts from Tokyo to Western United States.  Transcript within Records of the Foreign Broadcast Intelligence Service

Aircraft Histories

B-25D 41-30018, at Pacific Wrecks

B-25G 42-64850, at Pacific Wrecks

Aviation Archeology

38th Bomb Group

38th Bomb Group

823rd Bomb Squadron, 38th Bomb Group

Missing in Action and Prisoners of War

Tunnel Hill Massacre

Japanese Military Installation at Amron, New Guinea

POWs at Amron, New Guinea

United States Defense POW / MIA Accounting Agency

Australian War Memorial

Alexishafen, New Guinea, Central Interpretation Unit (C.I.U.) Maps, at Australian War Memorial

United States National Archives

Records of the Foreign Broadcast Intelligence Service
Records Group 262, Entry 3, 530/17/11-13/00, Box 699.

War Department Bureau of Public Relations Press Branch Casualty Lists  of 13 December, 1943

Pilots’ Pause: “Pancakes for Breakfast” – Fighter Pilots of the 65th Fighter Squadron, in North Africa, 1942 and 1943, in Parade – Middle East Weekly Magazine

As American military newspapers of the First and Second World Wars were epitomized by the Stars and Stripes – which continues in publication today – so, naturally, have other nations provided news for their own servicemen.  One such example from the Second World War was England’s Parade magazine, which served the British military in North Africa, Middle East, and the Mediterranean area as a whole. 

First released in mid-August of 1940, Parade (edited by A.W. Parsons and Captain D.H. Flockhart) was published by the “Inter-Service Publications Directorate for the Joint Publications Board”.  The magazine was printed in Cairo by the firm of Al Hilal, which was – according to the masthead – the magazine’s “Sole Distributor for Egypt, Sudan, Syria, Palestine and Cyprus”.  As indicated by its intended distribution, Parade’s news coverage focused upon British military activity in the Mediterranean Theater, but in time, the magazine expanded its scope to cover news from other theaters of British military action.  A central aspect of the magazine was the abundance of its photographic essays about the many national, ethnic, and religious groups of the Middle East, as well as military, cultural, and social news from the British Isles.  And (!), the back page of many issues featured a full-page pin-up of a prominent (or not so prominent?!) British film actress.

Though Parade’s military news coverage naturally centered upon the activities of Britain’s military, given the vast scope of the multi-national Allied war effort in North Africa and the Middle East, it was natural that the magazine would also cover military activities and servicemen of other Allied nations.

One such example – the curiously titled photo essay “Pancakes for Breakfast”, about an American P-40 fighter squadron in North Africa – appeared in the magazine’s issue of July 3, 1943.

The anonymous author initially focused upon rations provided to American troops in the context of the American fighter squadron, and then discussed the pilots’ general living conditions, specifically mentioning the reticence of the squadron’s (anonymous) leading (7 victory) ace about discussing his aerial experiences.  Based on a review of 65th Fighter Squadron aerial victories, this un-named captain was probably Roy E. Whittaker (0-431582), who attained two victories on Oct. 26, 1942, one victory on Oct.. 27, and four victories on April 18, 1943.

Though the pictures in the article (unfortunately!) have no captions, one photograph provides “the” central clue about the squadron’s identity: An image of the squadron bar shows a placard decorated with swastikas (designating aerial victories), pilots’ surnames, and primarily, a very distinctive painting of cartoon gamecock: The insignia of the 65th Fighter Squadron (Flying Cocks) of the 57th Fighter Group.

Though the roving reporter didn’t specify the date when he visited the Gamecocks, two clues in the photographs reveal the time frame of his visit.

One picture shows a discarded newspaper from Buffalo, New York (amidst a bunch of what are probably British 50 Pound Mark I aircraft bombs) with the fragmentary headline “Nazis in Tunis…” Given that Axis resistance ceased in Tunis occurred by May 13, 1943, this argues for a time-frame of late April to Early May of that year.

Another picture includes a view of the April 23, 1943 issue of Stars and Stripes, with the headline “Nazi Air Convoy Smashed”.  This refers to what is commonly known as the “Palm Sunday Massacre” of April 18, 1943, in which the three squadrons of the 57th Fighter Group are credited with 49 aerial victories.

Much more information about that aerial battle is available at the 57th Fighter Group, while the first page of that very issue of the Stars and Stripes (from the 57th Fighter Group website) is shown below:

At the time, based on the Movement map of the 57th, the fighter group was based at Hani – or, “Sidi El Hani” – Tunisia, which is location number 15 on the map below (also from the 57th FG):

And so, here are the article and photos…

PANCAKES FOR BREAKFAST

How do the U.S. forces differ from the British in the way they spend spare time, the things they eat?  A “Parade” reporter visited a U.S. Air Force unit, describes differences he noticed

It was our first visit to the American Air Force, to any Yanks in the field anywhere.  There were similarities and there were differences comparing them with the R.A.F.  The similarity seemed to spring from complete identity of job; they had the same modesty and sort of involuntary exclusiveness that the airman acquires, his operational element being other.  The many differences were superficial.  The food, for instance.  For breakfast tomato juice, oatmeal (not the same as porridge), or pancakes with syrup, dehydrated eggs, peanut butter and coffee.  Lunch menu was ‘Spam’ (meatcake) mealies, a sort of potato, the inevitable peanut butter and cocoa.  For dinner hamburgers, vegetables and biscuits (our scones).  There is the officers’ mess, where you eat, and the club where you sit and read Life, the American Parade, Stars and Stripes, innumerable shiny covered issues of Pocket Editions Incorporated; where you write letters and play poker, but very rarely drink anything, except, perhaps, iced water (many of these messes have refrigerators).  Yanks are addicts to candy (candies are issued in their rations).

The Mess Sergeant

There is and there is not ceremonial.  Not much saluting is done, and the officers often wear their metal bars, oak-leaves and other insignia of rank hidden under the collars of their jackets.  The mess sergeant is a man of more formidable prestige than with us.  You arrive a minute late for a meal and he lets you have it.’  He speaks merrily with officers, a cigar sticking out of the corner of his mouth, a slice of cake in his hand.  He looks like a man behind a talkie ice-cream soda bar.

Mess conversation is much the same the world over.  A difference among the Americans, though, is the ardour that comes into their voices when they talk about motorcars – automobiles to them.  The convertible Cadillac is a name they conjure with indeed.  The post-war ambition of one and all.

American airmen do not tell the world about their exploits.  The captain I spoke to who was ‘ace’ of his squadron, with seven swastikas on the side of his P.40 fighter, made me feel like an inquisitor.  He was waiting to take off on his second patrol that day.  He must have been one of the youngest officers in the Wing.  Not at all like a pilot in an American film.  No more so than American newspapermen run true to their film types.  He was quiet, almost self-effacing.  These Parade pictures show an average day on a forward landing ground.  It’s a dull day, punctuated by 1 ½ hour spells of excitement, perhaps one, perhaps two, perhaps three.  Off duty there’s not much to do except read and play cards.  Chief humorous item is listening to daily word dose under the auspices of Doctor Gobbels, a sort of fireside talk to Americans in North Africa, a wheedling address.   The American airmen had their best opportunity to answer when they helped make hay of those Messerschmitts over Pantelleria.

______________________________

The photos accompanying the article appear below. 

These three photographs show pilots of the 65th.  Unfortunately (and unsurprisingly!) no names are given.

“Four pilots live in one tent.  These three were friends back in their home town before the war so a letter from home – well, most of it anyway – is read out for the other two to hear all the news as they while while off duty.”

______________________________

These images are two different views of the interior of the squadron’s recreation tent, which also includes the squadron bar. 

This “first” image shows as pilot appearing to perform some sort of mission-planning work.  Next to him, the above-mentioned (April 23) issue of Stars and Stripes, with the headline clearly visible.  Note the tail-fin assembly of a German bomb, to the left of the table, which now serves as a trashcan. 

“Between sorties they write letters home, read large variety of magazines and newspapers – “Life,” “New Yorker,” “Reader’s Digest,” are favourites from home – with innumerable shiny issues of Pocket Editions Incorporated.”

______________________________

For this next mage, the reporter has stepped further into the tent.  The tail assembly of a even larger German aircraft bomb serves as the support for a radio (probably of British or (captured) German manufacture) which is attracting the attention of one of the pilots.

Repairing the radio is everybody’s hobby.  It is an eight-valve super-heterodyne, but is usually out of order.  When it does work they tune in to see what laughs Goebells can provide.  Bar serves genuine cold water, a favourite drink.”

______________________________

“They rest, read newspaper.  Crepe boots are preferred to the issue ones.”

______________________________

Now we come to the squadron bar, which is faintly visible is the upper center of the preceding photo.  The 65th Fighter Squadron Fighting Cocks insignia is clearly visible, albeit one of the pilots has carefully positioned himself to hide the squadron logo!  Pilot’s names appear at the top of the board, though they’re not actually legible in this image.  Unfortunately (deliberately? – accidentally?) the pilots’ names are not legible.

“Swastikas mean German aircraft down; plate was present from R.A.F.”

______________________________

A discarded Buffalo newspaper, amidst some British 50-pound Mark I aircraft bombs.

“This was the home town paper of one of the American airmen, eagerly read when it arrived, now forgotten, torn and abandoned amid the coarse scrub.”

______________________________

But wait, there’s more!…

On December 11, 1942, American newspapers carried the following photograph, which shows an earlier version of the Fighting Gamecocks’ bar.  The unattributed image (it’s not an Army Air Force photograph – I checked Fold3 and wrote to NARA!) is captioned:

“OASIS – American officers based in western Egypt pictured as they relax between raids on Axis bases.  Left to right seated are: Lieutenant C.F. Costanzo, of Manchester, N.H.; Lieutenant J.L. Morris, of Silver City, N.C.; and Lieutenant A.D. Jaqua, of South Bend, In.  Behind bar, left to right are: Lieutenant H.M. Cohn, of Springfield, Ma.; Lieutenant D.F. Smith, of New York; Lieutenant Walter Reed, of Reading, Pa.; Lieutenant Clair D. Knopp, Meadville, Pa.”

Here’s the image, scanned from 35mm microfilm at 300 dpi.

A little more information about the men in the picture.  They are:

Seated

Costanzo, Charles F., 2 Lt., 0-791285; 1 Victory Jan. 11, 1943
Jaqua, Arnold D., 1 Lt., 0-440839; 2 Victories Dec. 8, 1942; KIA March 29, 1943 – No MACR

Behind Bar

Cohn, Herbert M., 2Lt., 0-791283; KIA Dec. 13, 1942, P-40 #93 – No MACR
Reed, Walter H, 1 Lt., 0-441017; 1 Victory April 18, 1943

And…”Knopp” is actually “Knapp“, Clair D., Lt

The resolution of the original print image is very good, such that many of the pilots’ surnames on the bar are legible.  The names indicate:

First Row (Top)

__?__
Thomas (Gordon F. or Herbert M.) (If “Gordon F.”, then he was a Major, 0-397559; 1 Victory April 18, 1943)
Clark (Thomas W., Capt., 0-406233; 4 Victories)
Sneed (Marshall M., Capt., 0-427779; 1 Victory Jan. 20, 1943; KIA Feb. 27, 1943 – No MACR)
Margolian (Leon B., Capt., 0-420749; POW Dec. 10, 1942; P-40 #54 “Tiger Lil” – No MACR)
Whittaker (Roy E., Capt., 0-431582; 7 Victories – see above)
Wymond (Gilbert O., Jr., 1 Lt., 0-431591; 3 Victories)
O’Neill (William W., Jr.)
Mitchell (Delbert V., 1 Lt., 0421007; 1 Victory Nov. 7, 1942)

Second Row

Jaqua (Arnold D., 1 Lt., 0-440839; 2 Victories Dec. 8, 1942 – KIA March 29, 1943 – No MACR)
Stanford (Harry H. Jr., 1 Lt., 0-442298; 3 Victories April 18, 1943)
Weaver (Edwin R., 1 Lt., 0-441053; 2 Victories April 18, 1943)
Reed (Walter H., 1 Lt., 0-441017; 1 Victory April 18, 1943
Rideout (Harold C., Jr. – KIA?)
Metcalf (Robert L., 1 Lt., 0-442290; 1 Victory Oct. 26, 1942)
Kimball (Richard W., 2 Lt., 0-442139; 1 Victory Oct. 31, 1942)
Paulsen (Richard B.)

Third Row

Duncan (Harold)
Goldcamp (Robert J.)
Knapp (Clair D., Lt. – see above)
Migell” – (McGill, William F.?)
__?__
Randall (William J., 1 Lt., 0-727543 – KIA April 18, 1943)
Richie” (Ritchie, Dudley W.)
Loughran (Fred J.)
Grogan (Charles E., Lt. Col., 0-22355; 1 Victory in 79th FG June 10, 1943)

Fourth Row (Bottom)

Flickenor (George J., Jr.)

Given the presence of Cohn and Jaqua in the image, and, the date of the picture’s publication, the picture was probably taken in Libya during early to mid-December of 1942, at the very latest.  If so, the squadron’s then location would have been in Libya, either at Martuba (from November 16 through December 6) or Belandah (from December 2, 1942, through January 9, 1943).

References

USAF Credits for the Destruction of Enemy Aircraft, World War II – USAF Historical Study No. 85, Albert F. Simpson Historical Research Center, Air University, 1978

Maurer, Maurer, Combat Squadrons of the Air Force – World War II,

57th Fighter Group

British 50 Pound Mark I aircraft bombs, at MichealHiske.de

 

Portraits of the Fallen: The Crew of the Dogpatch Express, in Photographs

The world we live in is, by nature, unpredictable.  Some events appear – by all standards of understanding and reason – to present us with seemingly irrevocable and misfortune and challenge.  Other situations and experiences can carry us – by all measures of sense and logic – to a horizon of apparently good fortune.  But then, in time, what appears to have been misfortune may actually – albeit unknown to us, at the time – be a reprieve and “second chance”, while what seems to have been bountiful luck may – in a way of which we are comfortably unaware – presage a much more dire outcome.

If this is so during “conventional” times, then vastly more so during a time of war, when the pace, sweep, and nature of events – and the danger inherent to those events – is magnified many fold.

Some 75 years ago, such a situation transpired in the life of the pilot of a B-24 Liberator bomber. 

But first, an explanation.

______________________________

In March and April of 2017, I created two blog posts concerning photographs I’d discovered at the United States National Archives in MACR (Missing Air Crew Report) number 1423.  This MACR covers the loss of a B-24D Liberator (41-24214 – Dogpatch Express) of the 11th Bomb Group’s 42nd Bomb Squadron, over the Central Pacific Ocean, after a mission to the atoll of Taroa Island, in the Maloelap Atoll of the Marshall Islands, on December 21, 1943.

A particular image appearing in the “first” post is a very high resolution (2400 dpi) cropped scan of one of the photographs, showing the damaged bomber shortly before it crashed into the sea…

The “second” blog post includes an image accompanying the FindAGrave biographical profile of T/Sgt. Roy T. Gearon, the bomber’s radio operator, via FindAGrave contributor Patrick Maher, Sgt. Gearon’s cousin.  The picture shows most of the ill-fated bomber’s crew, as they appeared some months prior to the December twenty-first mission.  The image is captioned: “Roy’s crew picture taken a few months before they were shot down.  T/Sgt. Roy Thomas Gearon bottom left.”  While T/Sgt. Gearon’s FindAGrave profile gives no further information about this image, in light of recently acquired information and photographs (see much more below…), it’s seen that T/Sgt. Gearon is at the far left, standing.

Though my prior posts list the names of the plane’s crew members (from MACR 1423 – the first sheet is below), in the absence of other information it was then impossible to attach “names to faces”.

Thus, the men in the photograph remained, in senses both symbolic and very real, “unknown”.

______________________________

Well, time passes.

Sometimes; all too often (especially in the world of 2018) time can drape a veil of forgetfulness over history.

But, on occasion, the passage of time can actually bring the past into clarity, memory, and awareness.  Fortunately, such has happened with the names of the crewmen of Dogpatch Express.

Recently, I was contacted by Richard “Rich” Thomspon, Jr., through whom I learned that the officer in the center of the above photo – the fellow seated in the wheelchair – was his father, Second Lieutenant Richard (“Dick”) Sydney Thomspon, Sr.  At the time the image was taken, Dick, severely wounded during the 11th Bomb Group’s mission to Wake Island, on July 24, 1943, was recovering from his injuries, probably at Oahu, Hawaii.  As indicated by Roy Gearon’s FindAGrave biography, Dick indeed was being visited by his crewmen. 

All but two of the men in the photo – aboard Dogpatch Express five months later – would not survive the war.

Rich has created a detailed, profusely illustrated, and well-written account of his father’s military experiences and postwar life, entitled Wicked Witch, which he has kindly shared with me.  A few of the many evocative images from this document appear below.

As a result, through Rich’s assistance and enthusiasm, I’m now able to “attach” names to faces, and, casting aside time’s anonymity, definitively identify each airman.  The mens’ identities have thus become more than the nominal information – “name, serial number, and next of kin” – typical of Missing Air Crew Reports and Casualty Lists.

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Dick Thompson was born in Boston on December 9, 1918.  His family eventually moved to Pennsylvania, residing at 25 Rolling Road in West Park Station, a suburb of Carrol Park, near Philadelphia’s Overbrook Park section.  

Dick entered the military in 1941 (prior to which time he’d been an iron-worker), before Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor.  He was eventually assigned to the “22nd Military Police” of the 1st Armored Division, and was stationed in Louisiana.

In time – though the details and specific dates are unknown – Dick entered the Army Air Force.  Having completed training as an Aviation Cadet, he was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant on the 12th of December (Saturday), 1942.  The other significant – if not greater – transition in his life was his marriage the next day to Elizabeth Marie McCaffrey, of Philadelphia.

Though the details are unknown, Dick spent the Winter and Spring of 1943 doing further training in the southwestern United States.  According to Rich, it’s unknown,when his crew was assigned or how much stateside “bonding” they got in before leaving for Hawaii.”

In any event, his crew initially – almost certainly – consisted of:

2 Lt. John E. Lowry, Jr. – co-pilot
2 Lt. Carl A. “Mort” Mortenson – navigator
Lt. Lori – bombardier
Technical Sergeant Clarence T. Sopko – Flight Engineer
Staff Sergeant Arnold J. Paradise – Radio Operator
Staff Sergeant Carl N. Dell – gunner
Staff Sergeant Earl D. Neilsen – gunner
Sergeant Del Vickio (spelling uncertain – could be “Del Vechio”, or, “Del Vecchio”) – gunner

Rich notes that each of the enlisted men wore at least four sergeant’s stripes, indicating that they may well have accrued more service time than their own four officers.  The crew eventually arrived at Kualoa, Hawaii (specific date unknown – probably mid-June), where they were assigned to the 11th Bomb Group’s (the “Grey Geese”) 42nd Bomb Squadron. 

On June 16, 1943, they flew aircraft 42-20688, the WICKED WITCH, as verified from data at the Oak Trust Library.  Lt. George W. Smith, who would pilot the ill-fated DOGPATCH EXPRESS six months later, is known to have piloted the WITCH earlier – on June 7 – for a test of the plane’s automatic flight control equipment.

The 11th Bomb Group’s second combat mission since June of 1942 (the first having been a bombing and photo reconnaissance mission, staged from Funafuti (in the Ellice Island Group) to Makin and the Jaluit Islands), scheduled for July 24, 1943, was to be to Wake Island.  For this purpose, the 11th staged at Fongafele Island, at Funafuti.  Prior to that time the 11th Bomb Group was engaged in organizing itself as a combat organization, and, flying practice and patrol missions around the Hawaiian Islands.

Here’s an image of Dick having briefly “gone native” near the Funafuti Island church…

The July 24 mission would be Dick’s first opportunity to fly the WITCH since June 16.  As noted by Rich (via historian Bob Livingstone of Brisbane, a member of the Aviation Historical Society of Australia and author of two books on the B-24), “…when a new crew came in with a new plane, the other air crews would “seize” their plane and give the new crew one of the ratty old planes that was pretty well used up.  Hard to argue after seeing what happened to the “WITCH”  as it did 6 missions in the 5 weeks dad was there but with Lieutenants Deasy, Stay, and Sands.”  (In the time intervening since his arrival, Dick had piloted 9 other B-24s on a total of 18 missions.)  Rich has also suggested that the allocation of new planes to veteran crews was, “…part of the training for a new crew.  If they just got to fly a new plane all the time, they would likely as not have any mechanical issues to deal with. … Flying the older planes, especially during training and sea search missions would give them a chance to think and interact as a team trying to survive under extenuating circumstances.  I think this was all by design of the bomb group commander, Colonel William J. Holzapfel, Jr., At this point in the war, he was responsible to ensure his airman were trained in the skills to win the war and he was learning right along with his air crews.”

As noted by Richard, “in terms of aerial warfare, [the mission to Wake Island] was just one more mission with nothing to distinguish it from others.  Conducted by Liberators of the reconstituted 11th, it was a “nuisance raid” ordered by the navy to relieve pressure in the South Pacific and to confuse the enemy as to where the next blow would fall.”

“12 planes were scheduled, 10 took off and eight went over the target to drop seven 500 pound general purpose bombs, 55 fragmentation bomb clusters and three 650 pound depth charges.  Hits were scored on Wake’s oil storage areas, barracks and a gun emplacement.”

“When Lt. Richard Thompson’s WICKED WITCH got to Midway from Hawaii to stage for the Wake raid, their tail gunner, S/Sgt. Earl D. Nielsen, required an emergency appendectomy.  When … Colonel Holzapfel asked the Marines for a replacement, there were more than 200 volunteers.  So, the name of Sgt. William C. Campbell was drawn out of the hat.  A Marine Captain offered $1,000 to take the Sergeant’s place, but was refused and Sgt. Campbell took over the tail guns of WICKED WITCH and over Wake, he downed a Zero.  (The eight-plane raid claimed nine Zeroes destroyed, four probable and three damaged.)”

The Wake Island mission cost the 11th Bomb Group two B-24s and twelve airmen.

One aircraft, B-24D 42-40676 (Cabin in the Sky), piloted by First Lieutenant James R. Cason, was struck in the port fin and rudder by a Zero (whether accidentally or deliberately will remain unknown), crashing into the sea with no survivors.  The plane’s loss is covered in Missing Air Crew Report 314. 

Lieutenant Richard W. Lipman, whose detailed, frank, and often moving diary (encompassing November, 1942, through December, 1944) appears in Grey Geese Calling, recorded that, “Cason had his rear stabilizer rammed by a Zero and he spiraled down shooting all the way to explode upon hitting the water.  I don’t know but I can’t seem to swallow the fact that the guys I know so well and the ship I flew in from Kualoa to Midway are gone forever.  Clean cut Cason, good natured Thompson, “Slick” Moore, McConnell and Kane [?] just out of Cadets.  Man, this ain’t for me!”

Along with Cason, the plane’s crew comprised:

1 Lt. Loren E. Thompson – Co-Pilot (Nehama County, Nebraska)
2 Lt. Robert B. McConnell – Navigator (Multnomah County, Oregon)
2 Lt. Ernest W. Moore – Bombardier (Anderson County, South Carolina)
T/Sgt. Lee R. Sterner – Flight Engineer (Muscatine County, Iowa)
S/Sgt. Lloyd R. Taylor – Radio Operator (Wilson County, Kansas)
S/Sgt. James W. Strope – Gunner (Chicago, Illinois)
Sgt. Louis N. Lane – Gunner (Lenawee County, Michigan)
S/Sgt. Harlan G. Davis – Gunner (Harrison County, West Virginia)
Sgt. Robert O. Stephens – Gunner (Los Angeles, California)
Cpl. Walter F. Kowalski – Photographer (Lackawanna County, Pennsylvania)

Here’s a photograph of eight members of James Cason’s crew, reportedly taken a few hours before this mission, from Cason’s FindAGrave biographical profile, provided by contributor Terry Woodward.  The image comes from the scrapbook of Bill Morrison.  Unfortunately, no names – “who is who?” – are listed.

…and, also from Bill Morrison’s scrapbook, we find an image of Lt. Cason, as seen in Hawaii in the summer of 1943 (also contributed by Terry Woodward):

Aboard another B-24D, 41-23983, 1 Lt. Joseph A. Gall’s Daisy Mae, two crew members were killed and two wounded during attacks by Zero fighters.  Lt. Gall and F/O Van Horn crash-landed their bomber at Sand Island, one of the three islands comprising the Midway Atoll (the others are Eastern and Spit Islands).

Included in Lt. Gall’s crew were:

F/O John N. Van Horn – Co-Pilot
2 Lt. Benjamin I. Weiss – Navigator – Wounded
2 Lt. Myron W. Jensen – Bombardier – Died of Wounds (Douglas County, Nebraska)
S/Sgt. Arvid B. Ambur – Flight Engineer / Waist Gunner – Wounded
T/Sgt. Thomas Wyckoff – Top Turret Gunner – Wounded
S/Sgt. Robert L. Patterson – Radio Operator / Waist Gunner
S/Sgt. Francis J. Perkins, Jr. – Gunner
S/Sgt. Robert B. Storts – Nose Gunner
S/Sgt. Earl W. Conley – Tail Gunner
Sgt. Joseph P. Evans – Photographer – Killed in Action (Tom Green County, Texas)

As described by Lt. Lipman, “Gall got shot up plenty.  His ship I mean.  Jenson [sic] got hit in the gut, shoulder and wrist – has a 50-50 chance of living.  Sgt. Evans, photographer, got a gut wound and died before returning.  There were 2 other injuries on board.  There were 200 holes in “Daisy Mae”.  I went over and saw it where Gall pulled to a stop on its nose 2 inches from the ocean at the end of the runway.  He came in with 3 engines and no brakes.”

Here’s a view of the Midway Atoll taken on November 24, 1941, 14 days before December 7, 1941.  (Image 80-G-451086)  Eastern Island is in the foreground, and Sand Island is across the entrance channel, in the center background.

These two images, from B-24 Best Web, show Daisy Mae after her crash-landing, at the water’s edge.  Not visible in the lower photograph is the presence of a nose turret (a grafted-on B-24 tail turret) which replaced the bombardier’s “birdcage” typical of B-24Ds.

Lt. Jensen’s obituary, from his FindAGrave biographical profile, (contributed by Loren Bender) appears below:

Despite Daisy Mae’s return, Lt. Jensen’s name is commemorated on the Courts of the Missing at the Honolulu Memorial.  Quite strangely, it appears that he has no actual grave. 

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And, aboard the WICKED WITCH?

During the attack by intercepting Zero fighters, the aircraft was struck by a projectile which penetrated the left forward fuselage, directly through the location of the painted WITCH’s left arm.  (See photo below.)   The shell penetrated Dick’s calf left leg and thigh, the pain and loss of blood rendering him unconscious.  According to bombardier Lt. Thrasher, another projectile entered the WITCH in front of the nose wheel, passing between his legs and knocking him away from his bombsight. 

Lieutenant John Lowry, Dick’s co-pilot, took control of the aircraft, bringing it safely back to Funafuti.  After repairs, the WITCH would bear the symbol of one Japanese flag, for the Zero shot down by Sgt. Campbell.

Lt. Thrasher described both projectiles as having been 20mm cannon shells (from the Zeros fighters’ Type 99-1 cannon).  Though it’s a point of conjecture, given the destructive explosive power of such shells and the evident (fortunate!) seeming absence of a actual explosions within the aircraft, I wonder if the plane was actually struck by .303 machine-gun bullets.  Just an idea.  If so, this would be consistent with a letter of 30 July sent to Dick’s wife from Adjutant General J.A. Ulio, which specifically states that, “Lieutenant Thompson sustained gunshot wounds…”

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This photo, taken some months before the July mission, shows Dick in the cockpit of the WITCH.  Note the name “BETTINA” – evidently inspired by the name of his wife, Betty – below the cockpit.  A name (“MUGGSIE”) also appeared under the co-pilot’s window, possibly the nickname of John Lowry’s wife, Margaret.

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The WITCH was destroyed during a Japanese air raid on Funafuti on November 17, 1943, her incinerated remains being the subject of Army Air Force photos 62903AC / 3A43074 and B-62903AC / A43076, shown below, respectively.  While most of the plane has been reduced to aluminum cinders, some parts, such as engines, oxygen bottles, landing gear wheel hubs, the supporting truss for the Sperry ball turret, machine guns, as well as belts of .50 caliber ammunition, are identifiable.

With the demise of the WITCH, Dick’s crew were assigned to the DOGPATCH EXPRESS, the subject of the two prior posts. 

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The following three photos, via Rich, show Dick being visited by his crew at Oahu.  The men were identified through communication with Rich, and, a close examination the these images.  Along with Dick, two men in the photo – (Lt. Jim Thrasher, the bombardier, and Sgt. Larson, a gunner) were not aboard the DOGPATCH EXPRESS on December 21.

So, at last and at least, we finally know “who” they are…

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This “first” picture is identical to the crew photo appearing at Sgt. Roy Gearon’s FindAGrave biographical profile, albeit of much higher resolution.  The men are, left to right:

Front row (kneeling):
T/Sgt. Clarence T. Sopko, gunner
Sgt. Larson (first name unknown) – gunner
S/Sgt. Carl N. Dell – tail gunner
Rear row (standing)
T/Sgt. Roy T. Gearon – Radio Operator
S/Sgt. Earl D. Nielsen – waist gunner
2 Lt. Carl. A. “Mort” Mortenson – navigator
Lt. Jim Thrasher – bombardier
S/Sgt. Arnold J. Paradise – gunner / radio operator
2 Lt. John E. “Jack” Lowry, Jr. – co-pilot

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In the picture below, the men have shifted positions.   Given that all crew members are visible in the image, the picture must have been taken by an anonymous photographer “behind the camera”, perhaps a member of the hospital staff. 

All are standing behind Dick, while S/Sgt. Earl D. Nielsen is kneeling in the front.  The men are (left to right):

Sgt. Larson
T/Sgt. Clarence T. Sopko
T/Sgt. Roy T. Gearon
2 Lt. Carl. A. “Mort” Mortenson
Lt. Jim Thrasher
S/Sgt. Arnold J. Paradise
2 Lt. John E. “Jack” Lowry, Jr.
S/Sgt. Carl N. Dell

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Here’s a superb photo of the crew’s officer’s.  Behind Dick stand:

Lt. Jim Thrasher
(Further information about Lt. Thrasher is unknown)

2 Lt. Carl. A. “Mort” Mortenson, 0-738872,  Navigator
Mr. Harry Walter Mortenson (brother), 1380 Riverside Drive, Lakewood, Oh.

2 Lt. John E. “Jack” Lowry, Jr., 0-800907, Co-Pilot
Mrs. Margaret E. Lowry, Jr. (wife), Spring St., Smyrna, Ga.

Along with the loss of the Cason and Gall crews, Lt. Lipman made note of Dick’s injury, and, Lt. Lowry’s return of the plane to Midway: “Dick Thompson was wounded in the leg at several places and by now he’s probably back at Oahu via an LB-30.  It was only a miracle that Lowry was able to land that one OK and on Midway instead of 200 miles out.”

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First Lieutenants George W. Smith and Ralph P. Ortiz, the pilot and bombardier of DOGPATCH EXPRESS on December 21, do not appear in these photos.  As such, they were almost certainly shifted from other crews to “fill-in” for Dick and Lt. Jim Thrasher on that date, with Lt. Smith perhaps “taking over” for Dick’s crew after the latter’s July 24 injury.  Smith’s receipt of the Air Medal and Purple Heart, and Ortiz’ receipt of the Air Medal, two Oak Leaf Clusters, and Purple Heart, would suggest that they respectively completed from five to ten, and fifteen to twenty, combat missions, prior to December 21.

However, it is known that Smith had been injured almost six months previously.  As recorded for June 14, 1943, by Lieutenant Lipman, “Well here’s the big story.  Today 3 of our ships were to take off for an important photographic mission in the S.W. Pacific.  All three were terrifically loaded down – the first two used every foot of the runway and barely cleared the trees then came #3 with me right alongside the runway in a jeep.   About half-way down the runway its nose went down and it skidded for about 100 yards till it swerved off onto the highway.  Two of its propellers flying off onto the adjacent beach.  Well I can tell you that I spotted my underwear then and there.  My first thought was to speed over there to see if I could help any of the crew to get out of the plane or to get to the hospital and off I flew in the jeep towards the plane about when I was 50 feet away flames broke out in engine #2 and off I went in the opposite direction only this time twice as fast because the uncomfortable vision of exploding hi-octane gas and exploding ammunition appeared in my mind.

The fire was put out, however, and the only person really hurt was Smith, the pilot, whose arm was quite smashed by a flying propeller.

Man some experience!  I took a lot of pictures but Capt. Peairs of S-2 is going to see them – I hope to get them back.”

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Dick’s wartime scrapbook includes images of his crew’s enlisted men, possibly taken while his crew was undergoing training in the United States.  (Further information may – ?- be forthcoming.)  Fortunately, Dick had the foresight to record the names of each enlisted man below that man’s individual portrait. 

That scrapbook page, which includes a group photo of the enlisted men, is shown below.

In this group photo, the men are (left to right):

S/Sgt. Carl N. Dell
Sgt. Del Vickio (“Del Vechio” – “Del Vecchio”?)
S/Sgt. Earl D. Neilsen
T/Sgt. Clarence T. Sopko
S/Sgt. Arnold J. Paradise

The men’s individual portraits follow…

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S/Sgt. Carl N. Dell, 13038323, Gunner

Born 4/19/20
Mr. William J. Dell (father), Route 1, Middle Road, Pittsburgh, Pa.
Memorial Tombstone at Saint Mary’s Cemetery, Pittsburgh, Pa. (Photo by “Genealogy-Detective”)

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Sgt. Del Vickio (“Del Vechio” – “Del Vecchio”?)

Like Lt. Thrasher and Sgt. Larson, Sgt. Del Vickio was also not a member of the Dogpatch Express crew on December 21. 

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S/Sgt. Earl Dewayne Nielsen, 39831608, Gunner (Tail Gunner?)

Born 7/29/21, Thatcher, Idaho
Mr. and Mrs. Albert (6/5/91 – 2/3/65) and Vera Charlotte (Panter) Nielsen (9/1/97 – 5/11/68) (parents); Albert, Earl, Phyllis, and Wilda (brothers and sisters)
Cleveland, Idaho
Memorial Tombstone at Cleveland Cemetery, Franklin County, Idaho (Photo by Bill E. Doman)  Note that the tombstone does not carry the actual date of his death.  This date, identical to that appearing on the website of the American Battle Monuments Commission, probably represents the date on which he was declared dead for legal purposes, according to Section 5 of Public Law 490.  Such date discrepancies can be found for many servicemen still missing from the Second World War, particularly still-missing airmen and naval personnel who were casualties in the Pacific Theater and Asia.  (And sometimes, Europe as well.)

Here are two portraits of Sgt. Nielsen.  The first, uploaded by Dianne Roberts to his FindAGrave biographical profile, and the second, at the Nielsen family tree, at Ancestors Family Search.

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T/Sgt. Clarence T. Sopko, 35308715, Flight Engineer

Born 1/22/20
Mrs. Mary S. Sopko (mother), 2138 West 26th St., Cleveland, Oh.
Memorial Tombstone at Ohio Western Reserve National Cemetery – Section M, Plot 6 (Photo by Douglas King)

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S/Sgt. Arnold J. Paradise, 36264577, Gunner


Mrs. Fern Paradise (mother), Garden Acres, Chippewa Falls, Wi.
WW II Memorial – June Havel (sister)

From Dick’s album, here’s a picture of Sergeants Dell and Paradise at the native church on Funafuti, around the time of the 11th’s mission to Makin and Jaluit.  They seem to have “gone native”, like their pilot, Dick.

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S/Sgt. Jesse Harvey Hudman, S/Sgt., 12146959, Assistant Engineer (Gunner)

S/Sgt. Jesse H. Hudman was evidently not a regular member of the Thompson crew, and does not appear in the above photos.  However, here’s an image of his memorial tombstone, at Dale Cemetery in Ossining, New York, followed by a news item from the Citizen-Register, of Ossining, N.Y., on May 22, 1946, regarding memorial services in his honor, which were held on Sunday, May 20, of that year.


Born 1918
Mrs. Florence L. Hudman (wife), 10 Marble Place, Ossining, N.Y.
Mrs. Carrie Hudman (mother), Gilbert Park, N.Y.
Memorial Tombstone – at Dale Cemetery, Ossining, N.Y. (photo by Jean Sutherland)
Notices about Sgt. Hudman appeared in the Citizen-Register, of Ossining, N.Y., on May 22 (above) and 25, 1946.  His name also appeared in an honor roll of WW I, WW II, and Korean War military casualties from Ossining which was published in the Citizen-Register on February 21, 1952.

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Due to the severity of his wounds, Rick would fly no more combat missions.  He faced a very lengthy period of recovery.

This telegraph to his wife, at her family’s Boyer Street address in Philadelphia, dated July 28, informed Elizabeth Thompson of her husband’s injuries:

REGRET TO INFORM YOU YOUR HUSBAND SECOND LIEUTENANT RICHARD S THOMPSON WAS SERIOUSLY WOUNDED IN ACTION ON TWENTY FOUR JULY IN THE PACIFIC AREA  REPORT FURTHER STATES MAKING NORMAL IMPROVEMENT   YOU WILL BE ADVISED AS REPORTS OF CASUALTIES ARE RECEIVED

ULIO THE ADJUTANT GENERAL

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Dick’s name appears (top right) in this casualty list published by the Philadelphia Inquirer on August 12, 1943, which represents only a part of the larger, nationwide casualty list released that day by the War Department.

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Rich surmises that his father was well enough to travel back to the United States by October of 1943, based on a telegram – from Dick to Elizabeth – dated on the 18th of that month. 

Some time around Christmas, 1943, while recovering at Brooke Army Hospital (now Brooke Army Medical Center) at Fort Sam Houston, Texas, Dick was featured in a broadcast on Armed Forces Radio. 

In the photo below, the civilian holding the microphone is Dick Smith, the officer is Brooke Army Hospital Commander Brigadier General B.C. Beach, and the nurse is 1 Lt. Florence E. Judd, who made a full career as a military nurse, eventually rising to the rank of Major.  According to George E. Omer’s 1957 article in Kansas History (“An Army Hospital: From Horses to Helicopters”), she, “…became the Fort Riley hospital chief nurse following an assignment at Walter Reed Army Hospital. Major Judd earned her R.N. degree in 1934 from Saint Mary’s Hospital in East Saint Louis and her postgraduate studies have earned a B.S. in nursing education from Columbia University and an M.S. in hospital administration from Baylor University.”

An excerpt of this interview follows this image of Dick, who appears to have an understandably pensive expression.  Note especially the text…

[Dick cut this part out: It’s a pretty sight, that flack, red and green fire bursting in the air around you.],” which presumably was never broadcast. 

…and…

SMITH:  That must have been a wonderful crew you had.

THOMPSON:  They were swell.  And I have been pretty upset about the latest news I’ve had about them.  I got shipped home with this leg but they – they stayed in the fight.  I’ve been told recently the plane is missing and that means all of the crew too.

Well, there are some events for which the fewer words, the better. 

The transcript of the broadcast follows…

SMITH:  Wherever our forces go, the Army Nurses Corps follows.  Wherever the fighting is, they are near by – and these boys in this hospital can tell you it is a wonderful thing to have them.  When a man is wounded, it is comforting indeed, to know they are present, to be in their capable, responsible hands.  Many of the nurses here in Brooke General Hospital have seen duty overseas.  For instance, here is First Lieutenant Florence E. Judd.  She put in a year’s service in a base hospital in the Fiji Islands.  It was a magnificent job you nurses did there, Lt. Judd.  I spent some time in that hospital you were in – and I say thank you.

JUDD:  You needn’t thank me or any other Nurse.  I often think the hard work we did there, night and day, was its own reward.  The lives we saved in those hospitals were worth all the work – and we felt that we were actually doing something in this fight for freedom everybody is always talking about.

SMITH:  You had to work hard in those hospitals.

JUDD:  Yes – everything was difficult because at that time we were starting from scratch.  We were rushed there immediately after Pearl Harbor and had with us only such equipment as could be carried quickly.  It was a rush job but I’m proud to say that it was also a good job.  Some facilities were not comparable to those here at home, but we had the best equipment, best doctors, the best trained corpsmen – and it was amazing to see how rapidly the boys recovered from their injuries.

SMITH:  You want to be sent overseas again?

JUDD:  Definitely.  Once you have seen the war at close hand, you feel strange in the ordinary, peaceful atmosphere of home again.  You keep recalling all the suffering you have seen.  You want to get back into it to see that you can do to lessen it.  You feel guilty enjoying anything when you know how miserable, how dreadful are the things our men must face.  Maybe what you do is very little, but at least, you are in it.

SMITH:  Don’t you feel you are in it here, serving in this hospital which is receiving overseas casualties?

JUDD:  Of course, I do.  But this is home.  Over there the men are far from home.  It is a terrible thing to be wounded far from home.

SMITH:  It must be.

JUDD:  But we never heard the boys complain.  They were the best patients I ever worked with.  They were appreciative of even the- least attention.

THOMPSON: And they should have been.  They had the best nurses in the world to give them attention.

JUDD:  Thank you, sir.

THOMPSON:  I’m Lieutenant Richard S. Thompson, Mr. Smith.  I want to say a thing or two on this broadcast, if I may.

SMITH:  Of course, you may.

THOMPSON:  Just something I’ve had on my chest.

SMITH:  Go ahead.

THOMPSON: I was in the Air Force, pilot of a bomber on patrols out of Hawaii.

SMITH:  Is that where you were wounded?

THOMPSON:  Oh, no.  I got mine, flying in a nuisance raid over Wake Island.

SMITH:  Tell us about that.

THOMPSON:  Well, you know Wake is a pretty small island –

SMITH:  But a famous one.

THOMPSON:  That’s right.  It cost the Japs plenty to take it from our Marines, and they have it well defended today.  They mean to make it cost us when we take it back.  We went over on our raid one day about noon.  And we were very lucky.  We caught twenty Japanese Zero planus on the ground.  I’m pleased to report our aim was good and we put all of them out of commission.  But we didn’t get away scot free – at least I didn’t.

SMITH:  What happened?

THOMPSON:  Well, there were thirty Zeros which weren’t on the ground – and they weren’t out of commission either.  They settled on us like hornets.  The flack was bad, too[Dick cut this part out: It’s a pretty sight, that flack, red and green fire bursting in the air around you.]  And it scares the devil out of you.  It’s meant for you.  Just a few more feet in your direction – and it is yours forever.

SMITH:  Was it flack which wounded you?

THOMPSON:  No – gun fire from one of the Zeros.  Ripped right through my leg.  I passed out: so I missed most of the excitement.  The co-pilot later told me they downed nine of those thirty Zeros.

SMITH:  That must have been a wonderful crew you had.

THOMPSON:  They were swell.  And I have been pretty upset about the latest news I’ve had about them.  I got shipped home with this leg but they – they stayed in the fight.  I’ve been told recently the plane is missing and that means all of the crew too.

SMITH:  That’s not very good news.

THOMPSON:  But that isn’t what I had on my mind to say.  I’ve get a baby boy, three months old.at home, and I’ve never seen him.

SMITH:  Surely you’ll get to see him soon.

THOMPSON:  Yes, right away.  But think of the thousands of other American men overseas who won’t get to see their children soon – even for a year or so, maybe never.  Millions of men, average American fellows like the boys you have talked with tonight, are spending the best years of their life away from the people they love, away from the opportunities they had planned to take advantage of.  We all know it’s got to be that way.  And you don’t hear those men complaining, though I can tell you they get pretty burned up sometimes at the softness and blindness of certain people back home, people whom the war has never touched and who don’t know what it is like to fight an enemy who isn’t playing a game with you but means to kill you for keeps.  Yeah, I’ve got an injured leg, but at that I came out light.  Those boys who talked to you a little while ago didn’t tell you all the things they know about that jungle warfare going on – right this minute – in the South Pacific.  They talked about foxholes.  You know what those foxholes are like?  They’re not nice, clean holes in the earth.  They are holes that the jungle rains fill with water and mud – and yet those boys have to stay in them.  Sometimes they fill up with blood and you are in that, too.  Those filthy, muddy holes become a man’s home.  And that jungle they talk about.  It is as bad as an enemy; it’s no pretty green land of palms and flowers.  It is a matted mass of vines and trees and at times the ground beneath your feet is not ground but mud up to your knees and up to your thighs.  And worst of all it hides an enemy you can’t see – all around you, sniping at you from a tree top or hiding on the ground right under you.  And that enemy – the boys didn’t tell you all they know about him either.  They didn’t tell you about those wounded men the Japs had found and slashed to shreds before our medical corpsmen could get them back to the aid stations.  I listen to the radio and read the newspapers and they talk about what a good investment War Bonds are and how if you buy them you’re keeping down inflation.  Frankly, I don’t get it.  Does the government have to beg you to buy War Bonds?  If you had seen sore of the things we’ve seen, you’d jump at the chance to get ammunition and other supplies to the men overseas.  What is all this begging you to buy War Bonds anyhow?  I know a lot of people are buying plenty of War Bonds, but what’s wrong with the rest of you?  I don’t get it.

SIIITH:  We return you now to our downtown studio.

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Here’s a wartime article from an un-named (probably Philadelphia-area) neighborhood newspaper, covering the experiences of Dick and his brother Arthur.  Note that the story mentions Dick having piloted a “Fortress” (!) back to Funafuti, when the aircraft was actually (!) a B-24, and Lieutenant Lowry took control of the plane.

And, here are two photos of the Thompson family, at Brooke Army Hospital.  Brother Art and his wife Kay stand at rear, while Dick, Betty, and baby son Richard, Jr. (born in September, 1943) in foreground. 

Unfortunately, Dick’s leg would never completely heal.  It was amputated in 1946, with Dick being medically retired from the military.  

______________________________

Life moves forward. 

Here’s a picture of Dick in a 1974 advertisement for the Sun Petroleum Company.  However, there’s no actual recollection of how he came to work for Sun.  As remembered by Rich, his grandfather [Dick’s father], “…Everett sold Cabot paints so being around a salesman must have turned him into one.  His brother Art had a paint store in Long Beach, CA so that sort of thing was in their DNA.  …  It’s easy for me to say he was very good at it as he was chosen to appear in trade magazines representing Sunoco.   …He enjoyed working for Sun for at least most of his career.  I seem to remember however, that towards the end of his career, it was like they were trying to push out the good old boys and their way of doing business over 3 martini lunches – but that’s just my take.  I think he was about ready for more golf, flying to Myrtle Beach for more golf, visiting his brother in CA and doing things not possible while raising a family.”

This image, from the late 1970s, was taken at Pearson Airport, Vancouver, Washington.  Rich, “lived on the hill behind the airport in late ‘70s and dad really liked being able to sit in the house or porch and look across the field at “Joliet” (“four niner J”) while he was having a martini.”

Though the Second World War changed Dick’s life, it did not dominate it.  For example, though letters were naturally exchanged with his family after his wound in 1943, he did not keep a diary.  According to Dick, “He didn’t have any really bad / negative things to say about his situation or the enemy (e.g. I have one letter where his mother makes mention of “those dirty japs”!)”

Similarly, Dick’s discussions of and attitude about the war remained “light”.  Rich remembers, “…photos of him shortly after the amputation of him showing off his “stump” at family gatherings and waving it like his arm at folks that were there.

“While growing up, I remember waking up one night when the folks had an adult poker party going and his prostheses was in the center of the table to cover a bet.

“I took him to a party here in Oregon while he was visiting where there was a pool in the back yard.  One of the smart-asses among the guests … took the liberty of pushing him into the pool – fully dressed.  He could swim like a fish and came back over to the edge of the pool where the ‘perp’ was standing, took off his leg and threw it up in the deck and said – ‘Now look what you’ve done!’  One of the few times I’ve ever known that guest to be speechless.

But, he did seem to have been particularly close to co-pilot, John Lowry, in whose memory he was proud to have named his second son, John.  In time, John Thompson attended college in Atlanta, and became friends (“…he was given V.I.P. treatment…”) with Lowry’s wife Margaret, who had remarried and had twin daughters and lived in Smyrna.

As remembered by John, “There were two family ‘reunions’ with Margaret Lowry / Mellon.  The first was in 1966 when Mom came down to pick me up after my first year at college.  There was a relationship between the two wives which indicates that they were together during some part (training)? of Dad and Jack’s early military career.  The second and last reunion … was in 1969 when my parents … drove down for my graduation.”

______________________________

The past remains within the present.  In June of 2015, this took the form of a visit by the Collings Foundation Wings of Freedom Tour to Portland, Oregon.  Rich, “…got there Sunday afternoon and didn’t even get to see the planes in the air but vowed to return at next opportunity and participate in what they call a “flight experience” and actually take a ride in the B-24 WITCHCRAFT.  

“During the visit, the flight engineer found me and three other people up on the flight deck.  He wanted us out of there and apologized that they forget to put the ‘NO ENTRY’ rope across the opening.  While talking with one of the people – an elderly gentleman accompanied by his family – the engineer learned that this fellow flew B-24s during WW II training pilots, and became very cordial, telling the old pilot, have a seat, stay as long as he liked, and insisted he leave a note and sign his log book. 

Then I saw my chance and dug out an old photo of dad with his head out the pilot’s window on the WICKED WITCH.  He asked “Who is this”?  I said, “My Father”.  His jaw dropped to the floor!  Once recomposed, he squatted down and looked down the bomb bay catwalk, now crowded with people and told them he had a pilot and the son of another pilot on the flight deck and asked for their patience while we finished up.

I met the engineer later and showed him the photos you’ve been looking at and gave him a big THANK YOU.

Great day!”

The memory of that 2015 day – full circle from July of 1943 – is shown below. 

______________________________

Looking back, Rich’s father, “…was always quick to relate how lucky he was to have only lost his leg and that the whole crew went out on the next mission and ended up missing in action.” 

And that brings us to a story that, whether true or apocryphal, is deep with meaning, carrying a message universal and perhaps eternal.  Curiously, it is a very old Chinese Taoist story about a simple farmer in a poor country village. 

While such a tale nature appears – on first reading – to be completely unrelated to aviation and military history, on contemplation, it actually encompasses both, and much more. 

For, it is a tale about the nature of life.

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He [the farmer] was considered very well-to-do, because he owned a horse which he used for plowing and for transportation.

One day his horse ran away.
All the neighbors exclaimed how terrible this was, but the farmer simply said,

“Maybe.”

A few days later the horse returned and brought two wild horses with it.

The neighbors all rejoiced at his good fortune, but the farmer just said,

“Maybe.”

The next day the farmer’s son tried to ride one of the wild horses; the horse threw him and broke his leg.

The neighbors all offered their sympathy for his misfortune, but the farmer again said,

“Maybe.”

The next week conscription officers came to the village to take young men for the army.

They rejected the farmer’s son because of his broken leg.

When the neighbors told him how lucky he was, the farmer replied,

“Maybe.”

(Maybe.)

– February, 2019

Acknowledgements

I’d like to extend my deep appreciation to Rich Thompson and his brother and sister, for sharing the photographs, documents, and information that have made this blog post possible. 

References and Suggested Readings

Bell, Dana, Air Force Colors – Pacific and Home Front, 1942-47, Squadron / Signal Publications, Carrollton, Tx., 1997

Birdsall, Steve, B-24 Liberator in Action – Aircraft Number 21, Squadron / Signal Publications Inc., Warren, Mi., 1975

Blue, Allan G., The B-24 Liberator – A Pictorial History, Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York, N.Y., 1975

Cleveland, W.M., Grey Geese Calling : Pacific Air War History of the 11th Bombardment Group (H), 1940-1945, Portsmouth, N.H., 1992

Davis, Larry, B-24 Liberator in Action – Aircraft Number 80, Squadron / Signal Publications Inc., Carrollton, Tx., 1987

Forman, Wallace R., B-24 Nose Art Name Directory – Includes Group, Squadron and Aircraft Serial Numbers and Photo Availability, Specialty Press, North Branch, Mn., 1996

Howard, Clive and Whitley, Joe, One Damned Island After Another, The University of North Carolina Press, Chapel Hill, N.C., 1946

Livingstone, Bob, Under the Southern Cross: The B-24 Liberator in the South Pacific, Turner Publishing Company, Paducah, Ky., 1998

Rust, Kenn C., Seventh Air Force Story, Historical Aviation Album, Temple City, Ca., 1979

Rust, Kenn C. and Bell, Dana, Thirteenth Air Force Story, Historical Aviation Album, Temple City, Ca., 1981 (The Grey Geese were assigned to the 13th AF from January through May of 1943.  Subsequently, they were part of the 7th AF.)

The Ediphone: June 13, 1918

We have the Dictaphone.

Now, here’s an advertisement for the the competitor of the Dictaphone: The Ediphone. 

Though similar in concept to the former, the difference between the two systems was, according to ObsoleteMedia.org, “…the recording method, with Edison using ‘hill and dale’ recording, while the Graphophone used lateral (side to side) recording.  The cylinders could have a layer of wax shaved off, to enable re-use.” 

The advertisement below, which appeared in The New York Times on June 13, 1918, is (hey, unsurprisingly!) strikingly similar in image and message to the three advertisements for the Dictaphone:  A pensive business owner or supervisor looks over the office floor, and noting three unoccupied desks – each with a placard prominently denoting that the worker is on (?! – gasp!) “Vacation”, muses upon the need to hire inadequately trained substitute employees (temps?) to accomplish the work of trained personnel.  To the rescue?  The Ediphone!

Intriguingly, the advertisement closes – again, as did the three ads for the Dictaphone – with the suggestion that the prospective customer obtain a copy of the Ediphone company’s free publication, “Better Letters Magazine”.

Scroll down to read the transcribed text of the advertisement…


Don’t worry about “substitute” stenographers

Vacation time is looming up.  Usually that means strange faces trying to handle strange jobs – never a good or satisfactory combination.

This summer your problem is multiplied.  You are short of regular help – it looks impossible to get good substitutes to fill in.  And you are using the shorthand system to boot.

Right you are.  If The Ediphone were on duty in your office all the time you would not be wrinkling your brow on “what to do”.

You would be right side up because you would be able to handle your correspondence efficiently and economically right through the summer.  That’s a plain truth you will discover as soon as you know The Ediphone.

THE GENUINE EDISON DICTATING MACHINE

The Ediphone

BUILT BY EDISON FOR BETTER LETTERS

Call Barnes – Rector 3598

Edwin C. Barnes & Bros.

114 Liberty Street

“Build by Edison – Installed by Barnes”
Ask for Edison’s Better Letters Magazine
Newark office: 207 Market Street (Tel. Market 8053)

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This video, by Shawn Borri, demonstrates how to use the Ediphone…

This video, by “The Victrola Guy“, is a presentation of a complete Edison Ediphone and Transcription Machine…

References

Dictation Machine  (at Wikipedia)

Ediphone (at Museum of Obsolete Media)

Shawn Borri’s YouTube Channel (“Postings of music, and experiments, even daily thoughts of Shawn Borri, controversial ” Mad Audio Scientist”.)

TheVictrolaGuy’s YouTube Channel (“This is an ongoing series of experiments of recording on the Edison Cylinder Phonograph…”)

Pilot Radio: October, 1945

It’s late 1945.  The war has just ended. 

G.I.s are returning.  Many have already returned.

Consumer products are once again becoming available.  In abundance.  In quality.  In variety.

Time for a return to normalcy.  (Albeit, in the retrospect of 2017, a fortuitous, temporary, historically anomalous, overly romanticized normalcy.  Hey, it was nice while it lasted.)

And so we encounter an optimistic, symbolic advertisement from Pilot Radio.  The company was founded in 1919 in Brooklyn, New York by former test pilot Isidore Goldberg, as the Pilot Electronic Manufacturing Company, the name changing in 1932 to “Pilot Radio”.  The company was acquired by Emerson Radio in 1965.   

The advertisement is symbolic and optimistic, with the curious image of an hourglass – denoting the march of time – before a receding horizon.  No actual products are promoted or described.  Rather, the ad’s message is one of pride:  “We’re back”…(note the “To Be Opened Soon” gift box) to manufacture radio and televisions for the consumer market. 

Tested by time in countless homes throughout the world, Pilot Radio has scored a triumph for dependability and unfaltering performance through the war years.  Let the satisfaction of present and past Pilot Radio owners be your guide to greater listening pleasure in the future.

Remember the Pilot Radio trademark.  You’ll be seeing it soon on radio sets that combine the experience of many years in the science of electronics with the artistry of quality production.  It will pay you to wait for a Pilot Radio.

Pilot Radio has also pioneered in television since 1928 and will soon bring you television in its most perfected form.  If you would like to receive further information about Pilot Radio’s activities in television, fill out and mail the coupon below.

“Symbol of Quality”
PILOT RADIO

Pioneers in Frequency Modulation and Television

PILOT RADIO-PHONOGRAOH COMBINATIONS   PILOT AM-FM RADIOS   PILOT PORTABLE RADIOS   PILOT RADIO-TELEVISON RECEIVERS

Reference

Early Television Museum – Pilot Radio Corporation History (at Early Television)

Emerson Radio (at Wikipedia)


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