Tag Archives: 1967

[June 6, 1967] Blood in the Streets of West Berlin: The Shah Visit and the Shooting of Benno Ohnesorg


by Cora Buhlert

Aftermath

Last month, I reported about the devastating fire at the À l'Innovation department store in Brussels, which completely destroyed the historic Art Noveau building and cost the lives of more than three hundred people.

Recovery work and investigations regarding the cause of the fire are ongoing. The exact number of the dead is still not known and identifying the victims of the fire is difficult, since many were burned beyond recognition. The unidentified dead were interred in a mass grave on a Brussels cemetery.

Victims of the Innovation fire being buried
Unidentified victims of the À l'Innovation fire are being buried in a mass grave in Brussels

On May 30, a memorial service for the victims of the fire was held at the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur church. The young Belgian King Baudouin and Queen Fabiola attended the service. Earlier, King Baudouin had also visited the site of the fire only a few minutes from the royal palace.

King Baudouin and Queen Fabiola
King Baudouin and Queen Fabiola of Belgium attend the memorial service for the victims of the À l'Innovation fire.
King Baudouin at the stire of the Innovation fire
King Baudouin of Belgium visits the site of the À l'Innovation fire

I had hoped to have a more cheerful article for you this month – especially since I found Lin Carter's latest novel Flame of Iridar in the spinner rack of my local import store. However, this was not to be, because not quite two weeks after the Brussels fire, another terrible event struck West Germany, specifically West Berlin.

Fairy Tale Princesses and Dictators

On May 28, 1967, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, the Shah of Iran, and his third wife Farah Diba arrived in West Germany on a state visit. Normally, this would not be particularly remarkable, since foreign heads of state regularly visit West Germany.

However, the West German tabloid press has a particularly interest in the royal house of Iran, for Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi's second wife Soraya Esfandiary-Bakhtiary is the daughter of the Iranian ambassador to West Germany and his German wife, grew up in Berlin and was educated in Switzerland. And when the barely eighteen-year-old Soraya married the Shah in 1951, the tabloid press eagerly reported about "the German girl on the peacock throne".

Shah and Soraya
Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, his second wife Princess Soraya and Princess Shanaz, the Shah's daughter from his first marriage.
Soraya Esfandiary-Bakhtiary
Soraya Esfandiary-Bakhtiary after her divorce

The marriage did not last long and the imperial couple divorced in 1958, when Soraya failed to produce an heir, which did not diminish the tabloids' interest in her at all. However, the gossip press also quickly focussed on her successor, Farah Diba, another young western educated Iranian woman from an upper class background.

Shah and Farah Diba
Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi marries his third wife Farah Diba in 1959.

Again, this is not particularly remarkable, because the tabloid press likes to print gossip about royalty. However, most of what West German citizens know about the Imperial State of Iran is gossip of questionable veracity about its royal house, filtered through the eyes of two privileged western-educated upper class women. What these gossipy articles – a remarkable number of which are published in the magazines and newspapers of the Axel Springer Verlag – ignore is that Iran is not just a fairy tale land of princesses and peacock thrones. It is also a brutal authoritarian state, ruled with an iron hand by Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, especially since the coup against the democratically elected prime minister Mohammad Mossadegh in 1953, which was backed by the US and the UK, because Mossadegh intended to nationalise the Iranian oil industry, cutting out British and US oil companies.

One of the rare critical articles about the Iranian regime appeared in the June issue of the student magazine konkret, where Ulrike Meinhof, a brilliant young investigative journalist, penned an open letter to Farah Diba criticising the situation in Iran in response to a fawning interview with the Iranian Empress in the gossip magazine Neue Revue. This was not the first frank article Meinhof has written about the Iranian regime. Three years ago, she reported about a hunger strike of Iranian students in West Germany to protest human rights violations in their homeland as well as a state visit of West German president Heinrich Lübke to Iran.

Ulrike Meinhof konkret
Journalist Ulrike Meinhof at her desk at the student magazine konkret

Students versus the Shah

In 1960, Iranian students in West Germany founded the Confederation of Iranian Students (CIS), a leftwing group critical of the Shah and his government. Encouraged by his friend, writer Hans Magnus Enzensberger (whose former wife and brother are members of the leftwing Kommune 1 and were responsible for the disgusting pamphlets about the À l'Innovation fire), CIS co-founder Bahman Nirumand published a critical book about the Imperial State of Iran entitled Persien, Modell eines Entwicklungslandes oder Die Diktatur der Freien Welt (Persia: Model of a Developing Country, or Dictatorship in the Free World) earlier this year. While the book received little notice among the wider West German society, it was widely read among politically interested students and together with the open letter to Farah Diba in konkret galvanised the students of the Free University of (West) Berlin.

On June 2, the Shah and his wife were due to visit West Berlin. Therefore, the student parliament of the Free University organised a panel discussion about the Iranian regime on the day before. Among those invited to speak at the meeting was Bahman Nirumand. The Iranian embassy in West Germany was incensed and demanded that the panel discussion be cancelled. However, the chancellor of the Free University refused, citing the rights to freedom of speech and freedom of assembly. This is not the first time that the Iranian government has tried to suppress criticism in West Germany, by the way. They have also repeatedly invoked a lese-majeste law dating from the days of the Second German Empire (which ended fifty years ago) in order to have unfavourable news articles retracted.

Bahman Nirumand Free University Berlin
Iranian activist Bahman Nirumand speaks at the Free University of (West) Berlin.

In the days running up to the panel discussion and the state visit, pamphlets condemning the Shah appeared on the campus of the Free University, including a Wanted poster accusing the Shah of murder. The Kommune 1 felt compelled to interrupt their cheering about the deaths of more than three hundred people in Brussels to publish a pamphlet in which they threatened to pee on the Shah, which is a step up from threatening to throw pudding at US Vice President Hubert H. Humphrey. In another pamphlet, the Kommune 1 also condemned other leftwing groups for not being radical enough. Anti-Shah pamphlets had also been distributed by students at a protest in Munich during the Shah’s visit there.

Pamphlet Wanted poster
An anti-Shah pamphlet in the form of a Wanted poster accusing the Shah of murder.
Kommune 1 pamphlet
The Kommune 1's pamphlet about the Shah visit mostly criticises other leftwing organisations of being not radical enough.

The leftwing student organisation Sozialistischer Deutscher Studentenbund (SDS) had been planning a protest against the war in Vietnam on June 3. However, Nirumand's speech during the panel discussion at the Free University of Berlin galvanised the roughly five thousand students in attendance and it was spontaneously decided to bring the planned protest forward by a day and protest against the Shah's visit. Because – as radical student activist Rudi Dutschke said – fighting against oppression in Iran is also a fight against the war in Vietnam.

No Worries

Among the five thousand students at the panel discussion inside the Audimax auditorium on the campus of the Free University was also Benno Ohnesorg, a 26-year-old student of German and Romance languages and aspiring writer. Ohnesorg had only just married his girlfriend Christa six weeks before and the couple were expecting their first child. Like many students present, Benno Ohnesorg had read Bahman Nirumand's book and was galvanised by the man's speech at the panel discussion.

Benno Ohnesorg and Uwe Timm
Happier times: Benno Ohnesorg and his friend Uwe Timm in Hannover.

Benno Ohnesorg was politically interested, a pacifist and member of the Lutheran student church. He had only attended a single protest in favour of education reform before. However, Nirumand's speech persuaded Ohnesorg to take part in the protests planned for the following day. His wife Christa was worried, because there were reports about increasing police brutality during political protests. Ohnesorg (whose surname means "without worries" in German), however, dispelled her fears. It certainly wouldn't be that bad. And so the young couple agreed to attend the protest.

Shah and Heinrich Albertz in We
Shah Mohammad Rez Pahlavi and West Berlin mayor Heinrich Albertz walk past a parade of West Berlin police officers upon the Shah's arrival in West Berlin.

Cheering Persians

However, the students of the Free University of Berlin were not the only ones planning a rally on the occasion of the Shah’s visit to West Berlin. A pro-Shah group of Iranian expats filed for permission to hold a rally outside the Schöneberger Rathaus, where the Shah and his wife were due to sign West Berlin’s official visitor book. This group was remarkably well organised and bussed in some 150 Shah supporters, many of them young men in dark suits. They were carrying placards and portraits of the Shah attached to wooden sticks. It later turned out that these Shah supporters were not regular Iranian expats at all, but members of the Iranian secret police SAVAK who had been explicitly flown in. Others had been paid to attend the rally and cheer for the Shah. The press has since called them "Jubelperser", i.e. cheering Persians.

Cheering Persians
The pro-Shah Iranian expat group since dubbed the "cheering Persians" outside the Schöneberger Rathaus.

Meanwhile, the student protesters were also congregating outside the Schöneberger Rathaus, on the very same spot where John F. Kennedy held his famous "Ich bin ein Berliner" speech almost four years ago. Several of the students wore paper bags with stylised portraits of the Shah and Farah Diba over their heads. Also present were many overwhelmingly elderly Berliner housewives hoping to catch a glimpse of the tabloid empress Farah Diba.

Elderly ladies and student protesters
Elderly ladies hope to catch a glimpse of Farah Diba outside the Schöneberger Rathaus, while student protesters unroll a banner criticising the torture of political prisoners in Iran.
Student protesters 1967
Student protesters stage a sit-in outside the Schöneberger Rathaus, wearing paperbags with stylised portraits of the Shah and Farah Diba over their heads.

The key to managing protests by rival groups is to keep protesters and counter-protesters separated to prevent clashes. The West Berlin police completely failed in this, even though they had orders to keep Shah supporters and anti-Shah protesters apart. Furthermore, the West Berlin police were on edge, because there had been rumours about a planned attempt on the Shah's life as well as the Kommune 1 threatening to pee on the Shah. And so the John-F-Kennedy-Platz in front of the Schöneberger Rathaus quickly descended into scenes of pandemonium.

Student protesters and housewives
Students protesters and spectators mingle outside the Schöneberger Rathaus.

When the Shah and his wife arrived, the cheering Persians did what they had been hired to do and cheered on the Shah. The student protesters countered by chanting "Murderer, Murderer", while the elderly housewives still hoped to catch a glimpse of Farah Diba. So far, it was still a normal, if lively and noisy protest.

Cheering Persians versus student protesters
The cheering Persians begin to clash with the student protesters.

But then, the Shah supporters tore the placards from the wooden sticks, broke through the police lines and started beating up the student protesters, seriously injuring many protesters and even bystanders, while the West Berlin police stood by and did… absolutely nothing. The only people arrested were five student protesters. None of the cheering Persians were arrested. There even are reports that some police officers cheered on the battering Persians and started beating up students themselves.

Cheering Persians attack protesters
The cheering Persians show their true face and attack students protesters with wooden sticks.
Cheering Persians and student protesters clash
The cheering Persians attack the student protesters outside the Schöneberger Rathaus.

Up to this point, I had been fairly neutral about the Shah of Iran and his visit to West Germany. Make no mistake, the Shah is a dictator, but there are many terrible regimes and dictators in the world and when they chance to visit West Germany, they have to be treated like any other head of state. However, when a foreign politician visits West Germany, they also have to accept that we have freedom of speech and freedom of assembly here and that yes, there might be angry protesters chanting unpleasant things.

West Berlin traffic cop escorts elderly lady to safety
A West Berlin traffic cop escorts an elderly lady who was injured during the riot outside the Schöneberger Rathaus to safety.

But once I saw footage from the riot outside the Schöneberger Rathaus and heard reports from a friend who was there, I found myself seething with rage at the Shah and his cheering Persians. For while no one in West Germany can stop the Shah and his secret police from beating up protesters in Iran, they have no right to beat up protesters here in West Germany. The West Berlin police should have arrested those cheering and battering Persians and put them on the next plane back to Iran. And they should have sent the bloody Shah and his wife back as well, since royalty or not, even a Shah can't just flaunt our laws.

But things got even worse…

Fox Hunting Outside the Deutsche Oper

That evening, the Shah and his wife were due to attend a performance of Mozart's The Magic Flute at the Deutsche Oper opera house together with West German president Heinrich Lübke and West Berlin mayor Heinrich Albertz. Given Lübke's nigh legendary lack of education, I would almost have felt sorry for the Shah and Farah Diba for having to endure such a stupid man, if not for the terrible scenes in front of the Schöneberger Rathaus.

Shah and Farah Diba in Schloss Charlottenburg
The Shah and Farah Diba at a reception of the West Berlin mayor in Schloss Charlottenburg
Shah, Farah Diba, Lübke and Albertz inside the Deutsche Oper
The Shah, Farah Diba, West German President Heinrich Lübke and his wife as well as West Berlin mayor Heinrich Albertz enjoy a performance of "The Magic Flute" at the Deutsche Oper, while all hell breaks lose outside.

The student protesters congregated outside the Deutsche Oper, among them Benno Ohnesorg and his wife Christa. The West Berlin police were also there in force to cordon off the area in front of the opera house, so the honoured guests could enter without being troubled by chanting students. Shortly before the Shah himself appeared, the cheering Persians arrived at the opera house in two rented busses, once again remarkably well organised for an expat group that had only been founded one day before.

Student protesters outside the Deutsche Oper
Student protesters behind a police barrier outside the Deutsche Oper
Student protesters outside the Deutsche Oper
The police attempt to hold back student protesters outside the Deutsche Oper.

The student protesters chanted slogans and some of them threw eggs and tomatoes taken from a van parked at the curb as well as rubber rings "borrowed" from a building site onto the road outside the opera house, though none of the missiles even came close to hitting the Shah or any of the other opera guests. The cheering Persians started a counter chant, as the Shah and his wife entered the opera.

Police and student protesters
Student protesters argue with the West Berlin police outside the Deutsche Oper

This time around, the West Berlin police did not just stand by and do nothing, but actively grabbed individual student protesters, alleged ringleaders, from the crowd to beat them up on the street, a tactic that the West Berlin police had also employed during previous protests. Infuriated, some students started hurling stones from a nearby building site at the police. A police officer received a cut to the scalp, which bled heavily.

Police officers carry off a student protester
West Berlin police officers carry off a student protester outside the Deutsche Oper.
West Berlin police beats up protester
West Berlin police officers beat up a student protesters on the Bismarckstraße in front of the Deutsche Oper.

Once the Shah was inside the opera house, many of the students prepared to go home, since the performance would take three hours and few wanted to wait so long for the Shah to emerge. Among the students heading home was also the five months pregnant Christa Ohnesorg, who was appalled by the violence and feared for her safety and that of her unborn child. Her husband Benno stayed behind. It was the last time Christa would see him.

Around this time, rumours spread that a police officer had been stabbed by a protester. This rumour was false, but nonetheless all hell broke loose, as the police decided they would go "hunting foxes" as they put it.

Student falls over barricade while trying to flee
A student falls over a barricade, while trying to flee the aggressive West Berlin police.
Student in chokehold
West Berlin police officers arrest a student protester outside the Deutsche Oper, holding him in a choke hold.

The police officers surrounded the students and began indiscriminately beating up the protesters with the cheering Persians joining in. Hereby, the West Berlin police did not care whether the students were ringleaders or bystanders, male or female, whether they were aggressive or cowering in fear. They beat everybody they could get their hands on with their truncheons. Even passers-by who had not been part of the protest at all were attacked, when they tried to help injured or fallen students or simply if they got in the way of the police officers. Not even nurses and paramedics trying to help the wounded were safe from attack. Meanwhile, protesters who were taken to hospital often found themselves subjected to further abuse, particularly young women, who were called "sluts" for daring to wear short skirts, the mini-skirt apparently still being a new and shocking thing in the isolated enclave of West Berlin.

Bleeding student
A bleeding young woman who was injured during the protest.
Pollice officer escorts bleeding woman
A police officer escorts a bleeding young woman, whether to jail or hospital is unknown.

Erich Duensing, a former officer in Hitler's general staff who is now chief of the West Berlin police, cynically described the actions of his officers as "liverwurst tactic" – puncture it in the middle and the contents will be squeezed out on the sides. Cynical as it is, this is also an accurate description of what happened. Horrified by the violence, the student protesters ran away and the police gave chase, beating anybody they could grab hold off.

Erich Duensing and Ernst Reuter
Erich Duensing, former Nazi officer turned chief of the West Berlin police, with former mayor Ernst Reuter.

A Shot in the Night

Among the students who ran away was also Benno Ohnesorg. Together with other students, Benno Ohnesorg found himself driven into a narrow street opposite the opera house called Krumme Straße (Crooked Street). He witnessed police officers grabbing a student and carrying him off into a backyard just off the Krumme Straße, beating him all the way. Together with other students, Benno Ohnesorg followed in order to help or at least try to persuade the police to leave the student alone.

Police officers beat up student protesters
Police officers beat up fleeing students.

One of the reporters on site noticed the group of students following the police officers into the backyard and informed other police officers – whether maliciously or out of genuine concern for everybody's safety is not clear. At any rate, the police cordoned off the backyard, trapping the students, including Benno Ohnesorg. Then they began beating up their prey. Nine-year-old Hansi B., who witnessed the entire scene from his bedroom window, later reported that it was like a real life game of cops and robbers or cowboys and Indians.

According to eye witness reports, Benno Ohnesorg hung back and did not attack or provoke the police officers. He then attempted to flee, but was held back and beaten up by the West Berlin police. Benno Ohnesorg raised his hands and on a tape recorded by the radio station Südwestdeutscher Rundfunk SWR, someone – likely Ohnesorg himself – can be heard saying, "Please don't shoot." Then, around half past eight, a shot rang out in the Berlin evening, and Benno Ohnesorg collapsed onto the pavement of the backyard off the Krumme Straße. The young witness Hansi B. said that only when "the man in the red shirt" did not get up again, did he realise that what he'd just witnessed from his bedroom window was not a game of cops and robbers at all, but deadly serious.

On the SWR tape, the voice of a police officer can be heard shouting "Are you crazy shooting in here?" "It just went off," another voice answered. This voice, as we now know, belongs to Karl-Heinz K., a 39-year-old plainclothes officer of the West Berlin police. "Go to the back. Quickly," the first voice ordered.

While the police officers were arguing, Friederike Dollinger, a 22-year-old student of history and Latin, bent over the fatally injured Benno Ohnesorg, put her handbag under his bleeding head and yelled at the police officers to call an ambulance, a scene that was caught on camera by photographer Jürgen Henschel.

Friederike Dollinger holds the dying Benno Ohnesorg
22-year-old student Friederike Dollinger holds the dying Benno Ohnesorg in her arms.
Police officers stand around Benno Ohnesorg
West Berlin police officers, among them shooter Karl-Heinz K., stand around the dying Benno Ohnesorg and refuse to help.
Police officer and nurse load Benno Ohnesorg into an ambulance
A police officer and a nurse carry the fatally wounded Benno Ohnesorg into an ambulance. The nurse was beaten up for her attempts to give Benno Ohnesorg first aid.

The police officers refused to call an ambulance and even attacked a nurse and a medical student, who attempted to give first aid to Benno Ohnesorg. And so it took twenty minutes after the fatal shot, until an ambulance finally arrived to take Benno Ohnesorg to hospital. And because two nearby hospitals were already filled to capacity with injured protesters, it took forty-five minutes until Benno Ohnesorg finally arrived at the Moabit hospital. By that time, he was dead.

Lies and Cover-ups

The death certificate of Benno Ohnesorg lists a basal skull fracture, sustained as he fell to the pavement, as the cause of death. However, a post-mortem carried out the following day revealed a bullet wound in the back of Benno Ohnesorg's head, fired at a distance of approximately one and a half meters. During the post-mortem, it was also discovered that a part of Benno Ohnesorg's skull, the part with the bullet hole, had gone missing during the night, most likely to cover up the true cause of death, though the bullet itself was still stuck inside Ohnesorg's brain.

Meanwhile, police officer Karl-Heinz K. came up with a new explanation for why he shot an unarmed man in the head every other hour. Initially, Karl-Heinz K. claimed that he had fired a single warning shot, then it was two warning shots, then one warning shot and a second shot, which accidentally went off. Finally, Karl-Heinz K. claimed that several students were threatening him with knives, whereupon he drew his gun, fired and hit Ohnesorg. However, according to Hansi B., probably the closest thing to a neutral witness in this case, there were no students armed with knives. Instead, "the man in the suit [Karl-Heinz K.] drew a pistol and shot the man in the red shirt [Ohnesorg]".

The West Berlin police, aided and abetted by the West Berlin senate and the tabloid press, tried to portray Benno Ohnesorg as a ringleader and aggressive radical, who brought his fate upon himself. Once again, this is demonstrably wrong, since everybody who knew Ohnesorg described him as a quiet pacifist, politically interested but not a radical. And even if you don't want to believe the people who actually knew Ohnesorg, the fact that he was shot in the back of the head belies claims that he threatened Karl-Heinz K.

Students in West Berlin and all of West Germany were understandably furious both at the police violence and at what many of them consider a political murder. Protests and solidarity marches were held in many West German cities, except for West Berlin itself, where the police and the courts banned all public protests. They also tried to ban meetings and protests on the campus of the Free University, but once again the chancellor and several deans refused, citing the fact that freedom of assembly and freedom of speech are guaranteed rights in the West German constitution.

Student protest in Muncih following the death of Benno Ohnesorg
Students in Munich protest the shooting of Benno Ohnesorg.

A Dark Day

June 2, 1967 was a dark day for the Federal Republic of West Germany. Not only were peaceful protesters beaten and attacked by the very police force supposed to protect them, but the secret police of a foreign country was also allowed to run riot in the streets of a West German city. Even worse, a 26-year-old young man, an aspiring writer and teacher, a new husband and father-to-be, senselessly lost his life.

There are fears that the shooting of Benno Ohnesorg will further radicalise the student movement. These fears are not without justification. Because more and more students realise that their protests are not only ignored, but met with violence. So far, those who call for more radical actions are fringe elements, like the Kommune 1. But their numbers might well grow.

Furthermore, West Germany needs to rethink its relationship with dictators like the Shah of Iran. Because right now, even the worst dictator is welcomed with open arms, as long as they are not communist and have something to sell that West Germany wants or needs, oil in the case of Iran. Foreign heads of state must also accept that when they visit West Germany, they are bound by our laws and cannot just have protests banned or have their own secret police beat up West German citizens in the streets of a West German city.

We also need to tackle the problem of former Nazis in positions of authority in West Germany more than twenty years after the end of the Third Reich. It is well known that the West Berlin police force, probably the most militarised in the country, consists to more than fifty percent of former Wehrmacht members and officers who already served during the Third Reich. And the fact that many of the student protesters reported that police officers hurled not just anti-communist but antisemitic slurs at them shows that these leopards have not changed their spots.

Moreover, we need to discuss the role of the tabloid press, particularly the newspapers and magazines published by the conservative Axel Springer Verlag, in both fawning over the Shah and his wife and demonising the student protesters as Communists, terrorists or worse.

Finally, the shooting of Benno Ohnesorg must be investigated thoroughly and without bias and police officer Karl-Heinz K. must stand trial for shooting an unarmed man in the head. Because only justice for Benno Ohnesorg will calm the enraged Left in West Germany.

Students in Muncih place a wreath at the monument for the victims of the Nazis
Students in Munich place a wreath for Benno Ohnesorg as well as a banner calling him a victim of police terror at the official monument for the victims of the Nazi terror.





[June 4, 1967] The Daleks Stoop To A New Low… Vehicle Theft! (Doctor Who: The Evil Of The Daleks [Part 1])


By Jessica Holmes

EX-TER-MIN-ATE! I hope you aren’t tired of Daleks, because we’ve got angry pepperpots aplenty in the latest Doctor Who serial– and this one’s a long-haul. Will the Daleks quickly wear out their welcome or leave us begging for more? Let’s find out as we watch David Whittaker’s Victorian spin on the ever-popular villains, The Evil Of The Daleks.

EPISODE ONE

The Doctor and Jamie can’t catch a break, can they? Fresh off the whole palaver with the Chameleons, they try and return to the TARDIS only to find that it’s been stolen! Trailing their suspect to a warehouse, the Doctor and Jamie soon realise that they’re being led into a trap, and the TARDIS is bait–but they have no choice if they ever want to get it back.

But who has taken the TARDIS? Another man out of time. Enter Waterfield (John Bailey), a dealer of Victorian antiques who seems to belong to the period himself. He’s very anxious to bring the Doctor to his shop, obeying the orders of an unseen master… Give you three guesses who that’ll turn out to be.

However, it doesn’t seem that he pays his lackeys well enough, because the rogue who nicked the TARDIS for him comes snooping around his parlour looking for extra compensation, and gets rather more than he bargained for. A hidden room– and a deadly foe.

Enter the real villains–the Daleks!

EPISODE TWO

The Dalek in the secret room kills the intruder before vanishing, leaving the Doctor and Jamie unaware as they arrive for their meeting with Waterfield. Noticing that all these Victorian ‘antiques’ appear to be brand-new, yet somehow genuine, the pair begin to suspect they’re dealing with another time-traveller.

Meanwhile, Waterfield finds his dead lackey (much to his horror). He realises he’s definitely in too deep–but there’s no backing out for him, for reasons that will later become clear.

The Doctor and Jamie discover the body a few minutes later, and believe that Waterfield has murdered the man. Soon finding the hidden room themselves, they inadvertently set off a booby trap that knocks them out—and then Waterfield makes the three of them disappear.

When the Doctor wakes up, he finds himself nursing a cracking headache in Waterfield’s house–and he’s been transported to Victorian times. 1866, to be precise. Waterfield introduces him to his colleague, Maxtible (Marius Goring), and the pair explain that they’re in big trouble. While conducting experiments into time travel, they accidentally opened the door to horrors beyond imagining. I dearly love the look of dawning horror on Troughton’s face as the Doctor, hearing the familiar scream of the Daleks, realises what the pair have unleashed. It’s a great little moment of acting.

The Daleks, unusually for them, don’t want to kill the Doctor. Not yet, anyway. They require him to assist them with an experiment. After however-many attempts to conquer humanity, the Daleks have realised they need a change of tactic. They want to understand what makes humanity tick–that unknown human factor that they can transplant into themselves, and thus become unstoppable.

The Doctor has little choice but to assist. If not, the Daleks will kill Waterfield’s daughter, Victoria (Deborah Watling).

However, he’s not so keen when it turns out that Jamie is to be the Daleks’ test subject.

While all this has been going on, Jamie has woken up in the other room, met Maxtible’s daughter Ruth (Brigit Forsyth), and worked out what year it is. Before he can snoop any further, however, a man breaks in and abducts him!

The Doctor arrives to find him missing, the unconscious maid in his place. He needs to find Jamie, fast. Any delay in starting the experiment will result in Victoria’s death.

EPISODE THREE

So, what’s happened to Jamie? He wakes up in a stable and finds that his kidnapper acted on the instructions of another: a posh bloke called Terrall (Gary Watson). Terrall doesn’t seem to have any better idea of what’s going on than Jamie. Though he had apparently promised to pay the kidnapper, he refuses, claiming to know nothing of this. It doesn’t get much clearer from there. One moment he’s asking about the whereabouts of Victoria, then the next he’s claiming to be sure she’s gone to Paris. He’s quite all over the place.

The Doctor catches up to them before long, so we don’t get any better idea of what this bloke’s problem is. Perhaps it will become clear in due course. Until then, I’m just going to call it a bit of a plot cul-de-sac.

The pair return to the house. The Doctor leaves Jamie with the maid, Mollie, while he goes off to discuss the experiment. He doesn’t give Jamie so much as a hint of what’s going on (at the Daleks’ insistence), and boy is Jamie mad about being left out of the loop. He gives the Doctor a good telling-off once he gets back from the meeting, both upset about the secrecy and that the Doctor is so chummy with Waterfield, who for all Jamie knows is a murderer. It delights me to see a companion with a bit of backbone.

While the Doctor is off playing mad scientist, Jamie gets to know Ruth a little better. She is either mind-controlled or an extraordinarily bad actress, because everything about how she talks and carries herself is just plain weird. She turns out to be with the posh bloke who had Jamie kidnapped earlier–he’s her fiance! Perhaps whatever made him so odd is also influencing her?

Jamie gets along much better with Mollie (Jo Rowbottom), the maid. She tells him that Ruth’s fiance, Terrall, is normally quite a nice bloke, but does have anger issues since coming back from Crimea.

When the Doctor and Jamie meet back up, the Doctor warns Jamie that under no circumstances is he to attempt to rescue Victoria.

As expected, he immediately goes off to do just that. Truly the Doctor is a master of reverse psychology.

Mollie sneaks Jamie a copy of the house plans so that he can find his way around, and he commences his quest.

However, little does he know that the house is full of booby traps! What's more, a silent Turkish strongman by the name of Kemel (Sonny Caldinez) guards the way.

And so the experiment begins. Jamie charges off to mount a rescue, and the Doctor returns to Maxtible’s lab to monitor his progress and analyse his actions. In case you’re thinking the Doctor is being a bit too cooperative with the Daleks, he did offer himself as a test subject in Jamie’s place, but he’s not exactly human, is he? If I wanted a new face I’d need a boatload of money and a very good surgeon. Though the Doctor looks human, I think we can assume by now that he’s at least a little different from your average Joe.

Unhappy with being stiffed on the payment by Terrall, the ruffian who kidnapped Jamie earlier attempts to blackmail him. When that fails, he settles for a mugging. Unsatisfied with the contents of Terrall’s pockets, the ruffian pushes his luck by breaking into the house.

The Daleks find him before long, and his end is swift–and painful.

Final Thoughts

Though I’m beginning to worry that the Daleks are becoming a tad overused, I cannot deny that The Evil Of The Daleks is off to a good start. There’s something quite H.G. Wells about our time-travelling Victorians encountering horrors from another world. It’s some really old-school science fiction, and I’m on board.

There’s only so much I can say about the new characters thus far, being only a handful of episodes in. Poor Waterfield doesn’t strike me as a bad chap.  I think he’s in over his head. I have my doubts about Maxtible. He seems a lot less uneasy about the unethical things the Daleks are making them do.

The Daleks’ new scheme could mark an interesting evolution in their villainy. What would a more human-like Dalek be like? If they end up taking on more humanity, might they end up becoming more like their Kaled ancestors? Can the Daleks be reformed?

We’ll have to wait and see.




[June 2, 1967] Uneasy Alliances (July 1967 IF)


by David Levinson

Persecution and division

It’s rarely discussed, but a major condition of the decolonization of Africa has been that the newly independent nations are expected to retain their old colonial boundaries. The stated reason is to prevent squabbling and even armed conflict over redrawing those boundaries, such as we’ve seen between Pakistan and India. It sounds good on paper; unfortunately, paper is where those boundaries were drawn, often with little regard for people living there and leaving major tribes and ethnic groups split by lines on a map. Add in the tendency of colonial administrations to favor one tribe over others and you have the basis for a lot of unrest.

Nigeria is proving to be a case in point. Economic problems, tensions between the Muslim north and Christian south, government corruption, and an election widely seen as fraudulent all came to a head in an attempted military coup at the beginning of last year. Although the coup failed, the military was left in charge, and military governors were placed in the four states. An attempt to create a more centralized government led to a counter-coup and the near dissolution of Nigeria. Under Western pressure, the new head of the government, Colonel Yakubu Gowon, restored the federal system.

Then pogroms in the north against the Igbo (a largely Christian tribe from Eastern Nigeria) and other eastern groups left as many as 30,000 dead and over a million refugees fled to the east. The strain on the east led to negotiations between Colonel Gowon and Eastern military governor Colonel Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu seemed promising, but have fallen apart. On May 27th, Gowon declared that Nigeria would be divided into 12 states (cutting the Igbo off from oil money). The same day Colonel Ojukwu declared the independence of Eastern Nigeria. As we go to press, it has been announced that the new country will be called the Republic of Biafra. Nigeria is unlikely to accept this assertion of independence.

l.: Colonel Yakubu Gowon of Nigeria. r.: Colonel Odumegwu Ojukwu of Biafra.

Mediocrity strikes again

Similarly unstable is this month’s IF, full of shaky partnerships, from famous authors and vikings to complicated family politics. Some expect betrayal, others will find themselves surprised.

Joe Miller is the most fearsome warrior these vikings have ever seen. Art by Gaughan

The Felled Star (Part 1 of 2), by Philip José Farmer

Twenty years ago, everyone who ever lived and reached the age of five or so awoke on the Riverworld, brought back to life by someone for mysterious purposes. Samuel Clemens (better known to the world as Mark Twain) is traveling with a band of vikings led by Eric Bloodaxe. Also along is Sam’s best friend, Joe Miller, a “titanthrop” or ape-man with a nose like a proboscis monkey. They’re seeking a source of iron, which is almost non-existent. Bloodaxe carries an iron axe, most likely from meteoric iron, but he wants more for the power it will bring. Sam wants to build a steamboat (and find his beloved wife Livy). They also hope to reach the headwaters of the River, which Joe once visited and saw a mist-shrouded tower and flying boats.

The group is attacked by a settlement of 19th century Germans, equipped with gliders and bombs. The fall of a huge meteor several valleys away smashes everything with a massive wave, but the viking boat manages to ride out the destruction. They fish Lothar von Richthofen (the younger brother of the Red Baron) out of the wreckage, and he gladly joins their quest.

Curse you, Red Baron’s little brother! Art by Gaughan

This brief installment is largely set-up. Mostly, we get everyone’s motivations and witness a possible source of a lot of iron. The most interesting bit here is Joe Miller. His tale of the tower is very well done. The implication that this distant relative of Homo sapiens counts as human for whoever is behind the great resurrection also raises some fascinating questions. We’ll see what Farmer manages to do with all this.

Three stars.

Pelandra’s Husbands, by E. A. Walton

Pelandra is destined to become an immortal and marry the immortal leader of an expedition to a planet circling another star. Along the way, she is expected to marry a series of men selected for their compatibility as spare parts for the immortals. Unfortunately, she has fallen in love with husband Number Three, and he is scheduled for recycling very soon.

Walton is a British fan, making her first professional sale. Very little makes any sense. The whole situation is contrived just to create the problem and obvious ending.

Two stars.

Population Implosion, by Andrew J. Offutt

The oldest people are dropping dead for no apparent reason, and what constitutes oldest is getting younger every day. It turns out that the death rate now corresponds exactly with the birth rate. International efforts try to reduce the birth rate, but somebody’s cheating.

Bob Hope and (presumably) Bing Crosby starring in The Road to Armageddon. Art by Vaughn Bodé

Another story that makes no sense and has more holes than all the cheese in Switzerland. It’s an interesting “what if?”, but Offutt doesn’t do anything with it.

Two stars.

A Ticket to Zenner, by C. C. MacApp

Tom Larrow has worked on the planet Merob for several years, but a revolution means that all non-Merobans must leave. He was attacked and had his passport and ticket for Earth stolen. Lucky for him, since the ship blew up just as it entered space. His assailant also kindly left behind another passport and a ticket to Zenner. With the help of his employer, Tom gets away with a ring of little value and the name of a contact, but someone is still hunting for him.

Tom tries to smuggle himself off the starship. Art by Virgil Finlay

When he’s not writing about Gree or trying to be funny, MacApp is a decent writer. Somebody like Keith Laumer might have made this story (which owes more than a little to North by Northwest) a bit more exciting and tied things up a bit better, but MacApp’s rendition is serviceable.

Three stars.

The Tusk, by L. Sprague de Camp

A very short poem musing on a mammoth tusk in a museum.

Art by Gaughan

I have a poor sense of meter, but the rhythm here feels jarring and inconsistent. The punchline is also facile at best. Not Sprague’s best work.

Two stars.

The Purpose of Fandom, by Lin Carter

It doesn’t have a purpose, says Carter. But here he looks at how science fiction fandom differs from others. Notably, the large number of fans who become pros. This month, it’s those who became publishers and editors, next month will be writers.

Three stars.

Adam’s Eva, by Alan Dirkson

A minor mishap during his activation leaves Adam Pilot more ambitious and more prone to ask questions than most robots. His first day on the job, he meets Eva Hostess, who goes to great lengths to make everything perfect in the hopes that today there will be Passengers. But Passengers never come, and flights are often canceled due to fuel shortages. When Eva disappears, Adam does everything he can to find her, even going down to the Slag Heap, where he makes a big difference to the lives of the unfortunates there and eventually learns why there are never any Passengers.

Adam on the Slag Heap. Art by Virgil Finlay

Here is our second first-time author this month. Line by line, the writing is serviceable, though nothing special. But the whole thing is painfully obvious, and the title really gives away the ending. It’s also a bit long.

A very low three stars, though that might be generous.

Spaceman! (Part 3 of 3), by Keith Laumer

Billy Danger accidentally found himself aboard a spaceship where he committed himself to seeing to the safety of the beautiful Lady Raire. He lost her, found her and lost her again. Now he’s a slave. He befriends a fellow slave, the insect-like Fsha-Fsha, and they plan an escape. Before they can pull it off, Billy is sent to a punishment assignment. He’s rescued by Fsha-Fsha and Srat, whom he thought had betrayed him. Srat is killed, but Billy and Fsha-Fsha gradually work their way toward Raire’s home planet, having several adventures along the way. Eventually, he’ll have to rescue Raire one final time.

Billy became an expert swordsman by… sorting fruit. Laumer almost makes it believable. Art by Castellon

All in all, it’s a decent space adventure, but that’s all it is. Laumer is capable of much better. This also feels like it’s based on his notes for Earthblood and ideas he pitched to Rosel Brown that they didn’t use. It’s a fine novel, but if you have to choose between reading this or Earthblood, choose the latter. However, reading them together will give you a greater appreciation of Brown as an author.

Three stars for this installment and the novel as a whole.

Summing up

A pretty weak issue overall. Some stuff that’s okay and some that fails to reach that level. The Farmer has potential, but we all know he has problems with endings. There’s also a letter from James Blish, talking about his Star Trek book. Apparently, it’s done very well, and both he and the publisher have been deluged with fan mail. There’s a second volume due out towards the end of the year.

Speaking of Blish…






[May 31, 1967] Phoning it in (June 1967 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

Monopoly Bell

For nearly a century, the telephone lines crossing this great nation of ours have been the property of one big mother–specifically "Ma Bell", the colloquial name for American Telephone and Telegraph (AT&T).  Practically an arm of the government, this entity employs a million people and (for the most part) has no competition. 


The Belles of Southwestern Bell

Now, I'm not saying that it's not a near miracle to be able to call anyone, any place in the country, now that direct dialing has replaced operator-assisted station-to-station calling (for the most part).  I'm not even complaining that I have to dial seven digits when I call a local friend instead of just four.

I will say that it seems like highway robbery to have to pay 50 cents for a three minute call to my brother in Los Angeles.  We've gotten to the point where we don't actually call to let the other know that we got home safe after a visit; we just ring the phone once–that's free.  And how about the whopping $12 to (try to) phone my Journey pals in the UK? 

Of course, we have the luxury of being fantastically rich–how else could we have a dedicated line and a telefax machine to transmit articles and images? 

But for the regular schmo on the street, long distance calling is expensive…and Ma Bell wants you to make it a habit.

Thankfully, their switch to multi-frequency (MF) circuits, where operator-switched connections have been replaced by tone-controlled automatics, has proven quite the blessing, making Ma Bell more efficient, which has in some cases translated to reduced rates.

And for some people, it's resulted in absolutely phree phone calling…

You see, the phone system is controlled by tones, and the tones are consistent–and meticulously cataloged by the phone company in easy-to-obtain manuals.  So if you can find some way of producing the tones yourself, you decide whether a call is going to cost money or not.  Particularly if you have some way of producing, at the beginning of your call, the 2600 hz tone that indicates to the automatic system that a line is not being used, and therefore should not incur a bill.

If only there was some cheap, easy to find item that would enable you to do that…

That would be MF-ing great!

Broken Monopoly

It used to be that Analog, back when it was called Astounding, was the one game in town if you wanted what we now call "hard science fiction", that crunchy stuff based on real science, and not Buck Rogers stuff.  Astounding editor John Campbell ushered in what folks are calling the Golden Age starting the end of the '30s. 

It's now thirty years later, and Campbell's still around, and so's his magazine.  Unlike the phone company, however, Campbell is content not to innovate, letting the latest trends in the field pass him by.  The latest issue is a particularly regressive example.


by John Schoenherr

Computer War (Part 1 of 2), by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

SF veteran and globetrotter Mack Reynolds has as one of his settings a future in which humanity has spread out to dozens, if not hundreds, of worlds, each free to develop its political institutions as it sees fit.  Reynolds has used this backdrop as a way to explore several different types of government taken to extremes.  For instance, most recently, he took us to a (seemingly) woman-dominated world in Amazon Planet, which turned out to be something of a paradise.  I liked that one.

This particular story features a world with two main nations: Alphaland and Betastan.  Between them are 21 neutral nations that don't count too much.  The head of Alphaland is contemplating a war on Betastan, which though it will be costly, has been deemed necessary by the computerized statisticians if he is to maintain his grip on the totalitarian country.  To get the populace behind the move, he concocts a "Crusade" againt the "Karlist Amish" minority that have corrupted Betastan and threaten to bring the whole world to heel.

Stop me if you've heard this one before.

Mixed in is a bit of political thriller involving a minister and his Betastani spy mistress.  But for the most part, it's lukewarm historical allegory.  Reynolds can be quite good at this kind of thing, but he's just going through the motions on this one.

Three stars so far, barely.

The Double-Edged Rope, by Lloyd Biggle, Jr.


by Kelly Freas

East meets West in a Yugoslav greasy spoon as two agents swap stories of a rumored UFO invasion.  When the Eastern spy goes to make his report, he finds that the BEMs-in-human-form have already taken over, betrayed by their signature stiff pinky fingers.

Oh wait, that's The Invaders.  In this story, it's their really small ears.

Either way, it's a stupid story.  Two stars.

Political Science, by Douglas M. Dederer

Newcomer Douglas Dederer offers us a detailed and exciting (if one-sided and slightly incomplete) account of how Von Braun's Army team didn't and then did become the first to orbit an American satellite.  It's very pro-Nazi…er…Von Braun, and rather anti-Vanguard and Eisenhower, but I learned a lot.

Four stars.

Security Measure, by Joseph P. Martino


by Kelly Freas

A Russian-born American is inserted into the Soviet Union to survey any anti-revolutionary groups that might exist.  Once he finds one, he finds himself hip deep in a plot to seize a nuclear missile base and atomize army garrisons around the country as a prelude to a massive internal takeover.  Can Michael Antonov stop the plan before millions are vaporized?

Martino's written a lot of edge-of-the-future spy thriller stuff, generally exhibiting decent writing in otherwise trivial pieces.  I quite liked this one, however.  It feels quite grounded in reality, and the solution doesn't offend credulity or sensibility.  If anything, Security Measure feels like an episode of Secret Agent.

Four stars.

Project Lion, by Lawrence A. Perkins


by John Schoenherr

Back down we go with this short piece about visitors from Procyon.  The rulers of Earth are convinced that if they don't make first contact, they will be destroyed just like the Incans, the Neanderthals, and every other beaten culture of humanity that got off the second shot.  A scramble is made to select the optimum personnel for such a mission.

This story really doesn't make any sense, neither the "logic" involved in the puzzle nor the puzzle's solution.

Two stas.

The Dukes of Desire, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

Several months ago, we followed the exploits of a three-man team trapped on a planet under the thumb of robot overlords in Strangers to Paradise.  They overcame their difficulties through the use of mind control through scents.

Well, now the team is back.  The planet has fallen further into anarchy, and the trio have to figure out a way to put things to rights.  A combination of scent application and false identity does the trick, making the planetary population believe that the two ships flown by the trio are actually flagships in an interstellar war.  The idea is that an external foe might unite the people of the planet.  Or something.

I didn't much like the last story, and I really didn't like this one, even if my nephew, David, sang its praises.

Two stars.

Tallying the Bill

At 2.8 stars, the latest Analog definitely ends up near the bottom of the pack this month, only beating out the perennially puny Amazing (2.2).  Scoring better were Fantasy and Science Fiction and If (3.2), with Galaxy sitting on top with 3.3 stars, mostly thanks to the new Niven novella. There was but one woman-penned piece the entire month, and that done under initials. 

We did get some bright news this month–apparently Galactic Journey has finally made the Hugo ballot after several years of dashed hopes.  So there's the possibility we may actually come home from Nycon with the big rocket ship.

And that would be something to phone about!  On Sunday, when the rates are cheaper…





[May 28, 1967] Around the World in 80 Months (May 1967 Space Roundup)


by Gideon Marcus

Between the tragic aftermath of this year's twin space disasters (Apollo 1 and Soyuz 1) as well as the dramatic results from the Lunar Orbiter and Surveyor Moon explorers, it's easy to forget the amazing things being done in Earth orbit.

So here's a little news grab bag of some flights you may have missed over the last several months (and even years, in some cases):

Moscow calling

Two years ago, the Soviets joined the world of comsats with the orbiting of their first Molniya satellite.  Launched into an eccentric orbit that takes them up to geosynchronous altitudes but then swooping down to graze the Earth, they work in pairs to facilitate transmissions across the 11 time zones of the Soviet Union.

It's an impressive system–half a ton of satellite broadcasting at 40w of power, more than twice that of the Intelsat "Early Bird" satellites.  Unfortunately for the Soviets, it's also been a balky system.  Both of the first two satellites stopped working within a year, Molniya 1B failing to keep station in space.  It's a bad thing when your comsat moves out of position!  This is something more likely to happen in an eccentric orbit than in a more-stable geosynchronous orbit where a satellite goes around the Earth once every 24 hours, remaining more or less stationary (except for a little figure eight over the course of the day) from the perspective of the ground observer.  Worse, because the Molniyas scrape so close to the Earth, it doesn't take much to send them careening into the atmosphere, which happened to 1B March 17, 1967.

Still, the Soviets prefer their odd orbit because it's ideal for their purposes (giving coverage to Eurasia) and, I suspect, requires less booster power.  And it still carries the satellites high enough to return photos like this one, shot by Molniya 1A last year–the first all-Earth photo ever:

Molniya 1C was launched on April 25 last year, Molniya 1D on October 20.  They were replacements for their non-functioning companions.  But Molniya 1C may well have given up the ghost, too.  Molniya 1E was launched on May 24, apparently to replace it. 

May they solve their teething problems sooner rather than later!

A Pair of Imps

Out beyond the Earth's magnetic field is the sun's domain.  High energy plasmas (the "solar wind") and our star's magnetic field fill the vacuum of interplanetary space.  Not very densely, to be sure, but with profound effects on the planets and offering clues as to the nature of the stellar furnace that creates them.

It is not surprising that NASA has devoted so many satellites to understanding and mapping this zone given how many spacecraft (including the upcoming Apollos) will travel through it.  Explorer 18, Explorer 21, and Explorer 28 were all part of the "Interplanetary Monitoring Program" (IMP).  The first two have already reentered, and the last just stopped working a couple of weeks ago.  Luckily, virtually uninterrupted service has been maintained thanks to the launches of Explorer 33 and Explorer 34!


Explorer 33

Explorer 33, launched July 1, 1966, was supposed to be the first of the "anchored" IMPs, returning data from the orbit of the Moon (which does not have a magnetic field or radiations of its own).  Unfortunately, the satellite was shot into space a bit too rapidly to safely decelerate into orbit around the Moon.  Instead, it now has an extremely high (270,000 miles perigee!) but eccentric (low apogee) orbit from which it still can return perfectly good science.  Indeed, NASA planned for this eventuality.


Explorer 34

The other Explorer, #34, was just sent up on May 24.  It is a more conventional IMP and will pick up where #28 left off. 

With four years of continuous data, we now have terrific data sets on the Sun through a good portion of its 11-year cycle, including the recent solar minimum.  I look forward to a slew of reports in the Astrophysical Journal over the next few years!

Yes, I read those for fun.  Doesn't everyone?

Bright Future

If the IMPs exist to monitor the Sun's output, the Orbiting Solar Observatories' job is to directly watch the Sun.  Prior to 1967, two of these giant satellites had been orbited: OSO 1 on March 7, 1962, and February 3, 1965.  A third launch was made on August 25 of the same year, but it failed.

Sadly, the OSOs haven't quite provided continuous coverage over the last five years.  Still they have returned the most comprehensive data set of solar measurements to date.  And, as of March 8, the wiggly needles that mark the collection of data are jiggling again: OSO 3 has been returning data from its nine instruments on all manner of solar radiation–including and especially in the ultraviolet, X-Ray, and cosmic ray wavelengths that are blocked from terrestrial measurement by the Earth's atmosphere.

The timing is perfect–the Sun is just entering its period of maximum output.  OSO 3 will not only tell us more about the nearest star, it will report on its interactions with the Earth's magnetic field and the space environment in near orbit.

A Meteoric Rise

The Soviets have been awfully cagey about a lot of their launches.  Every couple of weeks, another unheralded Kosmos heads into orbit, stays there for a week, then lands.  It's an open secret that they are really Vostok-derived spy satellites that snap shots and return to Earth for film development.  This is utterly reprehensible–certainly WE would never do anything like that.

But while many of Communist flights have been hush hush, one subset of their Kosmos series has been pretty open: the weather satellite flights of Kosmoses 122, 144, 149, and 156!

The first of the Soviet meteorological satellites went into space on June 25, 1966, broadcasting for about four months before falling silent.  For a while, it seemed the Russkies were going to keep the pretty weather photos to themselves, but on August 18 of last year, they suddenly started sharing data over the Washingon/Moscow "Cold Line"–both visibile and infrared pictures, too.  It appears the delay was due to the Soviet reluctance to announce a mission until they're sure of its success.  It is entirely possible that some of the unexplained Kosmoses before 122 were failed flights.


Kosmos 122

The picture quality was pretty low at first, probably due to the length of the line the data must be sent over.  Improvements were made, and the new stuff is great.

Since 122, the Soviets have launched Kosmos 144 on February 28, 1967, Kosmos 149 on March 21 (it reentered on April 7–a failure of its weather-related mission, but it successfully tested the first aerodynamic stabilizer in orbit), and the latest Kosmos, #156, just went up on April 27, 1967.  It is my understanding that photos are being regularly shared with the National Environmental Satellite Service (NESS) in Suitland, Maryland.  I don't know if these are revolutionizing our view of the planet given our successful ESSA and NIMBUS programs, but it does give a warm glow of international cooperation.

If the nukes fly, at least we'll know if it's nice weather over their targets…

From the Far East into the Drink

The Japanese have been working their darndest to become the sixth space power (after the USSR, US, UK, France, and Italy).  Unfortunately, all of their efforts have thus far come up a cropper.

Their Lambda 4S rocket is the first one capable of launching a satellite into orbit, specifically an ionospheric probe with a 52 pound science package.  The problem is the vehicle's fourth stage.  The truck-launched Lambda 3 has been pretty much perfected, but when the new engine was put at the top of the stack, everything went to hell.


The successful precursor of the Lambda 4S, the Lambda 3

On September 26, 1966, the first Lambda 4S was lost when the fourth stage attitude control failed.  The fourth stage didn't even ignite the second time around on December 20.  That happened again on April 13 of this year during the third flight.

It looks like Nissan and JAXA engineers will be going back to the drawing board before trying another flight.  Maybe 1968 will be the year the Rising Sun joins the rising sun above the Earth…

What's next?

This summer, our eyes will surely turn beyond the Earth to Earth's twin, the planet Venus, for June marks the latest opportunity to send probes to the second planet at a premium on fuel consumption and payload allowance.  You can bet we'll be covering Mariner 5 and Venera 4 when they launch!


Testing Mariner 5





[May 26, 1967] Flames over Brussels: The À l'Innovation Department Store Fire


by Cora Buhlert

Comic Shopping in Brussels

Regular readers of the Journey may remember that I occasionally visit Belgium, particularly the beautiful cities of Antwerp and Brussels, on business. Whenever I'm in Brussels, I try to find the time for a stroll along the Rue Neuve/Nieuwe Straat, the city's main shopping street and home to trendy boutiques, elegant movie palaces and luxurious department stores.

Rue Neuve, Brussels
The Rue Neuve a.k.a. Nieuwe Straat in Brussels, looking towards Place de la Monnaie a.k.a. Muntplein.

The foremost of the department stores along the Rue Neuve and also the most beautiful is À l'Innovation (For Innovation), "Inno" for short. Built in 1897 by the famous architect Victor Horta, the À l'Innovation store is a stunning Art Noveau building with a glass-covered façade. Inside, the various departments are arranged around an open atrium that is crisscrossed by walkways and topped by a skylight.

À l'Innovation department store
The À l'Innovation department store on Rue Neuve in Brussels shortly after its opening in 1897.

 

Interior of À l'Innovation store in Brussels
The atrium of the À l'Innovation department store in Brussels with skylight.
A l'Innovation atrium
A more recent photo of the atrium of the À l'Innovation department store.

The last time I was in Brussel in April, I stopped at the Standaard Boekhandel book shop directly across the street from À l'Innovation to pick up the latest comics. The venerable weekly comics magazine Tintin has launched a slew of new strips to keep up with the competition of Spirou and particularly the French comics magazine Pilote. Several of the new series are promising such as Bruno Brazil, a James Bond inspired spy adventure by Greg a.k.a. Michel Régnier with artwork by William Vance a.k.a. William van Cutsem, Howard Flynn, a Horatio Hornblower style naval adventure set in the 18th century by Yves Duval and William Vance, and Bernard Prince by Greg and Hermann a.k.a. Hermann Huppen, which combines spy and sea adventures. Tintin even has a new science fiction comic called Luc Orient, also written by Greg with artwork by Eddy Paape, which seems to be inspired by the Flash Gordon comics of the 1930s.

A selection of TinTin issues
A selection of recent issues of Tintin.

 

Luc Orient

Howard FlynnBernard Prince

Bruno Brazil
A page of Bruno Brazil.

 

After I bought the comics, I headed across the street to À l'Innovation for a stop at the marble-tiled bathrooms. Then I went to the top floor restaurant to flip through my new purchases under the Victor Horta designed skylight, while enjoying a remarkably good meal for a department store restaurant. Little did I know that this would be the last time I'd ever see this store.

Inno neon sign
The neon sign on the expansion of the À i'Innovation store, "Inno" for short.

 

Smoke over Brussels

Plume of smoke over Brussels
Smoke from the burning Inno store rises into the sky over Brussels

For when I switched on the evening news on May 22, I was greeted by footage of the rooftops of Brussels engulfed in smoke. A massive fire had broken out around lunchtime at the À l'Innovation store and completely gutted not only the beautiful Victor Horta building, but the neighbouring Priba supermarket and the entire city block as well. The final death toll is not yet known, as firefighters are still combing through the wreckage and many victims are still fighting for their lives in Brussels hospitals, but more than three hundred are feared dead.

In the end, the beautiful Art Noveau architecture, which I had always admired so much, was what doomed the building and the more than three hundred souls who perished. The polished wooden floors and wall panelling not to mention the merchandise, much of which was flammable, burned like tinder, while the stunning atrium acted like a chimney and fanned the flames. And since the building was seventy years old, it was not equipped with modern fire-suppression measures like a sprinkler system. There were fire extinguishers, of course, and standpipes, but the standpipes did not function and the fire extinguishers were not sufficient to stop the fire. And so the grand staircase with its ornate banisters, which I had walked up and down so often, was engulfed in thick black smoke within minutes, making escape impossible for those on the upper floors.

Burning A l'Innovation department store
The burning À l'Innovation store, seen from the Rue de Pont Neuve.

 

Burning A l'Innovation store

A l'Innovation fire
The blazing À l'Innovation store and the firefighters, viewed from the upper floors of a building across the street.

The Brussels fire brigade was quickly on site and more than 150 firefighters risked their lives to fight the flames and rescue those trapped inside the burning building. However, there were many challenges such as the non-functioning standpipes or the fact that the Rue Neuve is a narrow street, which makes manoeuvring difficult for large fire trucks, particularly the ladder trucks that were so vital to saving those trapped on the upper floors.

Fire fighter at the a L'innovation store
Firefighters attacking the blaze inside the Inno department store.

 

Fire fighters on the facade of the burning A l'Innovation store
Two firefighters walk along a ledge outside the burning À l'Innovation store.

 

Fire fighters fighting the Inno department store fire.
Brussels firefighters tackling the blaze inside the À l'Innovation store.

 

À l'Innovation ground floor in flames
The blazing ground floor of the À l'Innovation store seen from the relative safety of a shop across the road.

 

Scenes of Horror

Eye witnesses describe horrifying scenes. People burst out of the exits with clothes and hair on fire, molten synthetic fabric fused with their skin. A woman who had been shopping with her young daughter grabbed the girl's hand and ran for the exit. She managed to escape, but once she stumbled onto the Rue Neuve, she turned around and realised that the child whose hand she was clutching was not her daughter at all.

Children being rescued from the À l'Innovation fire
Young children are evacuated from the in-store nursery of the À l'Innovation department store.

The most terrible scenes, however, happened on the upper floors, where hundreds of shoppers and staff were trapped by fire and smoke, unable to escape. In desperation, people broke the window panes of the glass façade on their quest to flee the flames. Many were rescued by firefighters with ladders, but others fell or jumped to their deaths, including a woman and her three young children. A few lucky souls managed to make it to the roof of the store and scrambled to the safety of neighbouring buildings, from where they could be rescued.

People waiting for rescue on the roof of À l'Innovation
People waiting for rescue on the upper floors of À l'Innovation.

 

People climbing onto the roof of À l'Innovation
People scrambled to safety onto the roof of the burning À l'Innovation store.

 

Fire fighters evacuating people from the burning À l'Innovation store
Firefighters evacuate people trapped on the upper floors of the blazing Inno store.

 

Firefighters rescue elderly woman
Firefighters escort an elderly lady to safety.

In spite of the best efforts of the Brussels fire brigade, the blaze also spread to the neighbouring shops, which had to be evacuated as well. Robert Dehon, a clerk at the Priba supermarket next to Inno helped survivors to safety and only narrowly escaped himself, when the fire reached the supermarket. Meanwhile, the staff of a furrier's shop desperately tried to save their merchandise from the flames, throwing expensive fur coats from the upper floors to the Rue Neuve below, into the waiting arms of fire fighters and civilian helpers.

Woman dangling from window of the À l'Innovation store
A man holds on to a young woman who is precariously dangling from a ledge.

 

Woman hanging from wire.
A woman is hanging from a wire, which some of the people trapped inside the burning store used to escape the inferno.

 

Man on wire
A man sliding down a wire to escape the fire, while an injured woman is carried to safety.

 

Woman with handbag jumps
A man is holding on to a wire, while a woman jumps from a window of the burning building. She survived and is now being treated in a Brussels hospital for a broken leg.

Because the fire broke out around lunchtime, the top floor restaurant under the glass skylight was bustling with shoppers and diners. The fire alarm was not heard by many people in the busy restaurant or they were reluctant to leave the food and drink they had paid for behind. And by the time the smoke and fire reached the restaurant it was too late for most. In fact, it was here – in the very restaurant where I had lunch while flipping through the latest comics barely a month ago – that many of the victims died.

Firefighters rescue injured people from the burning Inno store
Firefighters rescue injured people from the upper floors of the burning Inno store.

 

Remains of the Inno restaurant
The remains of the À l'Innovation restaurant, viewed from the Rue de la Roses. This part of the building completely collapsed.

Protests and Sparks

So far, it is not certain what caused the fire. In fact, is not even certain, where it started. There are conflicting reports by survivors and since the building was completely gutted, fire investigators have difficulties locating the exact ignition source. Most survivors agree that the fire was first spotted in the children's department on the first floor, though some also claim that it started in the camping department on the third floor and that exploding butane gas cylinders fuelled the flames. Yet others report that the fire started in the kitchen of the top floor restaurant

À l'Innovation steel frame facade
After the fire, only the steel frame of the Victor Horta facade is left standing.

 

Inno courtyard after the fire
A look up at the burned out atrium of the À l'Innovation store.

 

Gutted interior of A l'Innovation
The entire interior of the store was gutten by fire.

 

Burned out Inno store
A look down Rue Neuve at the burned out Inno store. To the left, you can see the Priba supermarket, which also was destroyed.

 

Burned out Pribe supermarket
Inside the burned out offices of the Priba supermarket.

 

Staircase to nowhere
In the ruins of the À l'Innovation store, a staircase leads to nowhere.

But no matter where exactly the fire started, a very dark picture is beginning to emerge regarding its cause. For though the Brussels police and fire brigade are investigating all possibilities, including a gas leak, an overheated light bulb or faulty wiring in the old building, there is a good chance that this devastating fire that cost the lives of more than three hundred people was due to arson.

In early May, À l'Innovation launched a special promotion called "US Parade", where American products such as jeans, barbecue equipment and toys were offered for sale. Such promotions are nothing unusual, many European department stores run them to showcase products from a specific country. They are also popular with shoppers, because it is a chance to purchase international products that you cannot normally get.

US Parade decoration at Inno department store
Firefighters enter the burning À l'Innovation department store. The stars and stripes decoration for the "US Parade" promotion which so incensed the protesters is clearly visible.

 

Stars and stripes burning
The stars and stripes decoration in the display windows of the À l'Innovation store on fire.

However, the US is not exactly popular in Europe at the moment due to the ongoing war in Vietnam. As a result, some people viewed a promotion campaign called "US Parade" not as an exciting shopping opportunity but as a provocation. And so anti-war protesters took to picketing the store and distributing pamphlets. Why those protesters felt that picketing a department store selling American goods would be more effective than protesting outside the US Embassy only four Metro stations away is a question only they can answer.

The overwhelming majority of those anti-war protesters were peaceful, if noisy. And indeed, most of the young protesters were horrified at the scenes unfolding before them, as the store went up in flames. Some protesters had firecrackers, which according to Inno staff members kept going off on the Rue Neuve outside and sometimes even inside the store. In fact, a surviving sales clerk later reported that she had become so used to the cries of protesters and the sound of firecrackers in the street that she initially mistook the cries for help and the crackling of the fire for yet more firecrackers and yelling protesters.

Burning mannequins
Burning mannequins and collapsed letters spelling out "US" inside the À l'Innovation store

As everybody should know, firecrackers need to be handled carefully and kept away from flammable materials. Did one of the protesters enter the store, ignite a firecracker and accidentally set the building ablaze? Or – worse – did someone deliberately set the fire inside the store? At any rate, survivors report seeing a man inside the store crying, "I'm giving my life for Vietnam," when the fire broke out. Furthermore, store manager Willy Bernheim reported that À l'Innovation had been receiving bomb threats.

As someone who opposes to the Vietnam war, I agree with the message of the protesters, if not their methods, since harassing shoppers and department store employees will certainly not stop the war in Vietnam. Therefore, I was horrified when I first heard about speculations that the fire my have been due to arson.

"Surely it was an accident," I thought, "An idiot playing with firecrackers, who intended to cause a small nuisance and had no idea what he or she wrought. Surely nobody dedicated to peace would deliberately burn down a building filled with hundreds of people."

And then I saw the latest pamphlets published by the Kommune 1…

The Kommune 1 and Their Shocking Lack of Empathy

The Kommune 1 is a group of leftist activists who believe that the nuclear family is the root of fascism and therefore want to experiment with alternative forms of communal living. This group–eight young men and women, as well as two of their children–moved together into an apartment in West Berlin earlier this year.

Kommune 1
Members of the Kommune 1 during a sit-in.

This experiment in alternative living was political from the start and so the Kommune 1 quickly became notable for their creative but also extreme protests such as scaling the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church to throw pamphlets and Mao Bibles onto the street below or the plan to hurl pudding at US Vice President Hubert H. Humphrey during his visit to West Berlin last month, which brought them to the attention of the police.

Rainer Langhans being arrested
Kommune 1 member Rainer Langhans is arrested by the West Berlin police, following the foiled plot to throw pudding at US Vice President Hubert H. Humphrey

The members of the Kommune 1 claim to have been in contact with the organisers of the protests in Brussels, a Maoist group named "Action for Peace and Friendship between Nations", and their spokesperson Maurice L. And so a pamphlet published by the Kommune 1 two days after the fire quoted Maurice L. who admitted not only to organising the protests, but also to setting off firecrackers inside the store to "accustom the staff to explosions and screams" and sending bomb threats to the store management to gauge police response. In fact, the pamphlet implies that the fire was no tragic accident, but a meticulously planned attack.

All this is very disturbing, but even more disturbing is the reaction of the authors of the pamphlet (credited to Dagrun Enzensberger, former wife of writer Hans Magnus Enzensberger and mother of a nine-year-old daughter, and her former brother-in-law Ulrich Enzensberger) who fail to show any empathy at all for the more than three hundred victims of the fire. Instead, the pamphlet proudly notes that the effect of the "great happening", which is how they refer to the protest, exceeded expectations.

Kommune 1 pamphlet
The disgusting pamphlet published by the Kommune 1 two days after the fire.

The next pamphlet, published on the same day, was even worse. Herein, the Kommune 1 explicitly cheers about the deaths of more than three hundred people (referred to as "overfed bourgeois consumers"), because "a burning department store with burning people will provide – for the first time in a European metropolis – that prickling Vietnam sensation (being there and burning) that we in Berlin are still missing."

To say I was disgusted is putting it mildly. In fact, the members of the Kommune 1 should count themselves lucky that I only received the pamphlets in the mail from a friend who lives in West Berlin (and was just as horrified by their content as I was), because otherwise I might well have rung the doorbell of the apartment on the corner of Stuttgarter Platz and Kaiser-Friedrich-Straße and punched whomever opened the door in the face.

Kommune 1 at home
At home with the Kommune 1. Hard to imagine that these people can cuddle their own children, while cheering the deaths of other young children in Brussels.

But it gets even worse, because the Kommune 1 did not stop at cheering about the deaths of more than three hundred people, they apparently enjoyed the horrifying TV footage of the fire so much that their next two pamphlets explicitly call for setting department stores in West Berlin on fire or maybe blowing up a military base or causing the collapse of a stand in a sports stadium filled with spectators. There were also threats against the Shah of Persia, who will be visiting West Germany in early June.

Now I have sympathy for the frustration felt by anti-war protesters that their peaceful protests seem to have little impact, though more and more people around the world are turning against the war in Vietnam. However, violence is not the answer, let alone violence on such a horrifying scale as what happened in Brussels. And calling for violence, even if meant satirically, as the Kommune 1 claimed once the West Berlin police knocked on their door, is utterly despicable, especially since someone might take those calls seriously and cause the next large-scale fire.

Let's be clear, so far no one truly knows what happened at À l'Innovation and what caused the fire. It's quite possible that the mysterious Maurice L. is blowing hot air or that he is merely a figment of the Kommune 1's imagination.

However, no decent human being, let alone someone who considers themselves on the left or anti-war, should ever cheer about the deaths of others. And make no mistake, the more than three hundred people who died at the À l'Innovation were innocents. They were people who were at work or shopping or having lunch. Many of them may well have been opposed to the war in Vietnam themselves. Several of the dead were young children, about the same age as the daughter of Dagrun Enzensberger, or even younger.

This whole thing is utterly disgusting and I do hope that the broader Left will make it very clear to groups like the Kommune 1 or the ironically named "Action for Peace and Friendship between Nations" that such behaviour is neither acceptable nor welcome. I also hope that if the À l'Innovation fire was indeed due to arson, the perpetrators will be caught and brought to justice soon.

Twisted wreckage
Twisted steel beams after the À l'Innovation fire.




[May 24, 1967] Heavyweight Champion (Avalon Hill's Blitzkrieg)


by Gideon Marcus

With Muhammad Ali stripped of his title as heavyweight champion, owing to his refusal to enlist in America's armed forces to fight for nameless hills in Vietnam, the boxing world remains, for the moment, without a titular head.

Not so for the wargaming world.  A year and a half ago, Avalon Hill released its biggest, most complex title to date, and it still remains the monster amongst its hex-and-counter brethren.  Blitzkrieg is a truly impressive beast: three mapboards instead of the usual two, 100+ pieces per side (compare to chess' 16 or Afrika Korp's ~50), 16 pages of rules.

Yes, it's sure a big'n–but is it fun?  Read on!

Red vs. Blue–2

Nine years ago, Charles Roberts kicked off the board wargaming hobby in a big way with his Tactics 2 (there had been a Tactics (1) released a few years before, but its impact was slight).  Tactics 2, like chess, featured two more-or-less identical opponents with no geographical ties to any real world nations.  They fought with abstractions of regular forces, all army units.  So primitive was this game that it used squares instead of the now-standard hexes (still, paradoxically called "squares") that were a revolution in simulating movement.

Tactics 2 was not a fun game. It was a boring, endless slog.

Blitzkrieg is Tactics 2 done right.

You've still got the two generic countries, in this case "Great Blue vs. Big Red", but now the map is a lot more interesting.  In between the two titans are seven "minor countries" that can be occupied for more production potential.  There are beaches to land on, deserts to cross, mountain ranges to hole up in, oceans to sail.

And the other armed services aren't just abstractions anymore.  The Navy still is, with transport represented simply by the number of troops which can be at sea at any time (and fleets can't shoot each other as they pass by), but now there are Marines (well, Rangers) that can land anywhere as opposed to their GI cousins who must make assaults on beaches only.  And there is a profusion of Air Force units: three types of bombers, from the short-ranged assault type to the long-ranged strategic variety, not to mention escorting fighters.  There are also airborne units that can fly from airfields and land great distances away–critical to taking farflung strongpoints behind the lines.

Even the Army is heterogenous, with units representing infantry, armor, and artillery (though functionally, they all work the same–the only difference is their movement and combat factors).

Cities are essential to the game: a player can only support 12 combat factors of units for every city controlled.  A player who loses cities may find his or her units evaporating without a shot being fired.

The game is won one of two ways: either one side completely destroys all of the other side's units, or (more achievable), one side occupies all of the other side's cities for a turn.  A third option says the game can end by negotiated surrender, just like real life.  In practice, this is the most common outcome.  There comes a point when the end is inevitable, even if it be far off.

Easy to learn, hard to master

Taken individually, none of the rules in Blitzkrieg is particularly challenging.  At the base of it all is the standard move, fight sequence of all other Avalon Hill games.  The Combat Results Table (CRT) is novel–instead of the standard "Defender/Attacker Eliminated", "Defender/Attacker Retreats", "Exchange" results, both sides have the chance to lose strength points.  This means that after every fight, a player is usually "making change", exchanging full strength units for depleted ones.  This is more realistic as individual battles rarely destroy entire units.

There are stacking limits (no more than 15 combat strength to a square), terrain modifications (units doubled on defense in towns and mountains), zones of control (units going next to others must stop and fight), replacement units and reinforcement units–all standard stuff.

The new rules aren't too onerous.  Invasions work kind of like in D-Day where assaulting units line up on the beach and fight their way ashore.  If there's no one defending the beach, they get to zoom inland. 

In addition to the aforementioned parachuters, a player can also move 12 units of Army from one city to another–including ones just taken from the enemy that turn.  This can be huge.

The Air Force adds a completely new dimension…literally!  Tactical bombers add their strength to an attack while strategic bombers bomb completely separately, interdict supply, or reduce towns to rubble.  Medium bombers can do either!  Fighters engage bombers or each other.

There are even weather, nuke, and sea-based aircraft rules!

Again, none of these are particularly difficult to apprehend.  But in order to win the game, all must be employed, and skillfully.  Neglect the air capabilities of an opponent in favor of the human wave tactics that won you Stalingrad or Waterloo, and you'll soon find troops behind your lines eating your supply.  Neglect the threat of naval invasion, either to your shores, or as a thrust to throw the enemy off balance, and you lose a powerful component of strategy.

So, that's the game, but I haven't answered the original question, have I? 

In Practice

At the beginning of the year, we set up the behemoth that is Blitzkrieg for a try.  Nominally a two-player game, we decided to make it a four-player game by having two people per side.  This makes a match both competitive and collaborative, which I find more fun than a straight head to head.  Plus, Janice is smarter than me, so she ensures we don't make dumb mistakes.

Against us were two Travelers, Lorelei and Elijah.  Would youthful vigor defeat aged wisdom?

Because of Great Red's proximity to more minor countries, and also because of somewhat better planning, Janice and I were able to take four of the seven minor countries with fewer losses and more quickly than our opponents.  This was not decisive, but it didn't help the kids.

Now, with both sides directly facing each other, with troops at sea threatening each other's shores, the question was where the first blows would land.

We quickly identified the largest concentration of Red troops that could be "bottled up".  If they could be taken out of the fight, Red would lose much of its offensive capabilities.  Accordingly, we landed in force on the middle south, around Curry Bend.  A titanic battle began that would take several turns to resolve and suck up more and more forces from both sides.

But what's this?  Elijah and Lorelei had paid more attention to the rules than we did.  They parachuted across the desert into one of our vacant cities in the northeast and promptly flew in another 12 points of units, which went on to occupy even more of our hinterland!  Our rear was open to the wind, our supply threatened.

Well, two could play at that game.  We took two of their cities in the northwest and set up hedgehog defenses in the home country.  While it was scary to lose several cities, the fact was, we had plenty of formerly neutral nations to supply our units.  We were never in any danger of losing troops to supply restrictions.

Great Blue, on the other hand, could not withstand the loss of dozens of combat factors in the south.  With their main offensive strength crushed on Turn 5, it was clear that their days as a fighting force were ended.  And so we adjourned to watch Star Trek.

After Action Report

I took three things away from this session of Blitzkrieg.  The first is what every good general has learned: to crush the enemy, you must destroy their armies in the field.  Taking cities is all very nice, but so long as one side is losing more troops each turn than the other, and the number of troops lost exceeds the four replacement units per turn, an inexorable imbalance grows until defeat is inevitable.

Secondly, we determined that Big Red has an inherent advantage over Great Blue.  Having a contiguous nation with greater access to more minor countries is an incontrovertible advantage.  Not insurmountable for Blue, but worth noting.

Thirdly, yes, this game is a lot of fun.  Highly recommended.  Just know that it'll take longer than most games!  Each team's turn took about half an hour to plan followed by half an hour to play out.  Thus, our five turn game (plus setup and learning), took about 12 hours played over several sessions.

But it was worth it!

Join the Fun!

If all this talk of playing general stirs something your bones (and hey, it's a lot more fun and less harmful than actual fighting), you are warmly invited to join our Galactic Journey Wargaming Society.  We have been facilitating several play-by-mail games so that even players remote from each other can enjoy a contest: over the summer, we had a smashing good time killing each other in a friendly game of Diplomacy.

And you get a spiffy newsletter!  What are you waiting for?





[May 22, 1967] Parable in SF's clothing (The Space Trilogy, by C.S. Lewis)


by Joe Reid

I'm a man who enjoys science fiction, having read his share of it.  I am also a student of religious thought, having again also read a good amount.  I did not start off reading the books of C.S. Lewis with the intent of seeking spiritual insights.  After all, I received none on reading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (1950) as a child.  Nor did I come to a better understanding of forgiveness in the pages of Prince Caspian (1951).  I learned nothing of redemption from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (1952).  The Silver Chair (1953) did not strengthen my grasp on the doctrine of sanctification.  Although the concepts were present on the page, my young heart only cared about the adventures in the wonderful land of Narnia.  I loved all of the Chronicles of Narnia.  It wasn’t until I read them again as a man, through mature eyes, that I bore witness to what lay beneath.  On that second reading I was also no stranger to many of Lewis’ other works. 

Lewis was an absolutely brilliant Christian philosopher.  Some of his seminal works of religious thought include Mere Christianity (1952), The Problem of Pain (1940), and The Four Loves (1960).  He is better known for his other works of fiction, which include The Screwtape Letters (1942), The Great Divorce (1945), and Till We Have Faces (1956).  All of these beautifully penned volumes are rich treasures of wisdom, and I found them edifying to no end.

Clive Staples Lewis passed away a few short years ago in 1963.  His death spurred me to revisit his works.  It was then that I came across books of his that I was not at all familiar with: Three books of what appear to be science fiction from the hand of a writer that I grew to love and admire.  The first of these works was released back in 1938. Suffice it to say, I was very enthusiastic to read the stories that have come to be known as the Space Trilogy.

As a man who enjoys science fiction, and who wrote such a glowing preface regarding my love for the works of C.S. Lewis, one would imagine that I also loved The Space Trilogy.  The short answer is yes, I enjoyed reading these books.  That said, I do not consider these books to be works of science fiction.  Some discussion is required to figure out what they actually are, if not science fiction. 

The first of the three novels, Out of the Silent Planet (1938), is the nearest that any of these books come to being SF.  It follows Elwin Ransom, a philologist, who is abducted by two men, taken from Earth in their spacecraft to the planet Mars for an unknown purpose. (Philology is the study of the structure of language and literature.) What follows is a story rich in the descriptions of the world of Mars, or Malacandra as it is known to the native species, deep connections with the peoples of the world, and revelations as to the histories of Mars, Earth, mankind and Martian kind are laid out before us.  For me, it was a pleasurable read.

Although there are elements of science in the story, the world and the inhabitants of the world might as well have been Narnian.  Their stated motivations of familial love for some and ambition for others appeared to be the foundation for his later, more popular works.  Also, no one in the book felt alien; fantastic, yes, but not alien.  The Martians or Malacandrans, in the end, showed more humanity than any of the humans in the story. 

If I were to place this book into a genre, I would call it fantasy/science fiction or science-fantasy for short.

In the second novel, Perelandra (1943), we visit Elwin Ransom again.  He is a changed man living in a world changed by the events of the first novel.  This time, Ransom is called to the adventure he embarks upon by a being he met in the last book, an adventure to Perelandra, the planet Venus, to help a woman on this young world from being corrupted.

The tone of this book starts off the same as the tone in the middle of the first book.  The world is beautiful, yet different than Malacandra.  Everything is fresh and exciting, until the introduction of one character that changes everything.  It’s a story that felt enriching at first, but suddenly became disturbing.  An object of relaxation which became a source of anxiety.  An anxiety that one is not released from until near the end of Perelandra.

Perhaps Perelandra might qualify as science fiction?  The answer again is no.  This book forced me to stop reading for a time recover from the dread and terror that were a part of this story.  I found myself frightened not only of the characters, but for them at the same time.  Reaching the end of Perelandra and escaping with my life was the reward for completing the volume.  It's an excellent book, but none of it is science fiction: there are no elements of the world or the characters that are forward looking or advanced.  Even the method employed to travel to Venus was more ancient and magical than science.

The final book of the Space Trilogy is called, That Hideous Strength (1945).  The entirety of this story is set on Earth (Thulcandra).  We are introduced to new characters: a newly married couple named Mark and Jane Studdock, both well educated and ambitious young people.  This story overall is cold and gray.  Gone are the colors and wonders of the other worlds. 

Earth is the way that it is because of events that were revealed in the other books.  The tone of this story is very heavy and very dark, becoming heavier and darker with each turned page.  The reader that perseveres is rewarded with a turn of fate so utterly unexpected and satisfying that one is left feeling well served by the story, even though some of what happened made absolutely no sense at all.

Again, this is not science fiction.  The scientific elements in this story are so devoid of hope that the solution to the main dilemma of the book has to find its redemption from the fantastic.  Neither is this story fantasy, nor terror. 

This volume successfully avoids a genre and it is not until one takes all 3 novels together as a unified work that a genre can be laid to bear on the triptych. 

In the same way that a mature reading of the Chronicles of Narnia as an adult reveals them to be at the core works of Christian philosophy to educate children, the Space Trilogy is a work of Christian philosophy to educate adults.  The type of adult that enjoys science fiction.

These volumes are philosophy lectures cleverly wrapped in the garb of science fiction.  This is not a criticism: I find them to be beautiful, terrible, revolting and inspiring.  I love them for what they are regardless of what they pretend to be. 

Another reader, who does not hold the same religious baggage that I carry, might find The Space Trilogy of C.S. Lewis boring at times and heavy handed at others.  Unless one develops a desire to finish the stories, as I did, each book provides the user with many opportunities to exit and I assume that many do.

Again, I love the stories in the Space Trilogy, not necessarily because of what happened in them, but more because of how it made me feel and where it left me in relation to my faith when all was said and done.  I would recommend this series to those who already love the works of C.S. Lewis and readers of science fiction who hold religious convictions.  I would not recommend it to readers of science fiction that do not.

5 stars





[May 20, 1967] Field trips (June 1967 Fantasy and Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

A peach of a visit

Here we are again in Atlanta, Gateway to the South.  Our last visit to the Dogwood City was at the invitation of Georgia Tech, who asked me, as a science fiction writer, to discuss predictions of the future.  Particularly, they wanted my opinion on the dangers of overpopulation, pollution, and nuclear annihilation–and what might be done to avoid catastrophe.

The talk went off rather well, and so now I'm at a conference addressing a bevy of biologists on the nascent science of exobiology, or more accurately, how aliens have figured in science fiction, both in our solar system and without. 

I must confess, there is a great feeling of accomplishment in being paid good money to talk about the things I love.  And the pastries are free, too!

A peach of an issue

Accompanying me on this trip is the latest issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction.  It has made a most pleasant companion (for the most part).  Let's take a tour, shall we?


by Bert Tanner

Death and the Executioner, by Roger Zelazny

First up, we have the sequel to Dawn in what is clearly a serial by another name (like Poul Anderson's The Star Fox).  As such, I will try to judge each piece as part of a great whole.

And what an excellent part!  Zelazny returns us to an unnamed world that is nevertheless explicitly not Earth (betrayed by its two moons).  Millennia ago, its colonists split into two castes: The Firsts, blessed with psychic powers, have effective immortality by swapping consciousnesses into other bodies.  Everyone else lives in enforced medieval squalor patterned after Hindu tradition.  The Firsts are, of course, associated with the Indian pantheon.

One rebel First, name of Sam, has styled himself the Buddha and is reintroducing Gautama's creed.  In this installment, the First who has made himself Yama, God of Death, arrives at Sam's purple grove to deliver a fatal message from Kali, head of the Firsts.

Just last article, Jessica Dickinson Goodman lamented that there were precious few f&sf stories that didn't derive their settings from a strongly European tradition.  Zelazny has shown that the subcontinent is as fertile a source for inspiration as any other.  And where Herbert's Persia-as-SF (Dune) fell flat for me, mostly due to Herbert's inexpertise as an author, in the hands of Zelazny, ancient India-turned-scientifiction sparkles.  Plus, there's lots of mighty thews-type combat for those who are into that sort of thing (paging Ms. Buhlert.)

Five stars for this segment.

The Royal Road to There, by Robert M. Green, Jr.

The Jackson family is on a seemingly endless freeway, headed for the unveiling of their uncle's will.  Said uncle was an eccentric who kept a horse-and-buggy factory going long after the automobile had become ascendant.

In a Twilight Zone-ish bit, the freeway ensnares the family, depositing them in the town his uncle built, where they are presented with a most unique offer, which may just require them to give up their gas-guzzling beast. 

Is the story anti-progress?  Or does it simply advocate smarter progress?  My brother, Lou, still laments the removal of the little red trains that used to knit Los Angeles together.  Now, the San Gabriel Valley is a basin of smog and a snarl of endless traffic.  If there had been more sensible city planning and incorporation of public transit and rail, perhaps it wouldn't be this way.

Three stars.

Gentlemen, Be Seated, by Charles Beaumont

In the future, comedy is dead.  It seems the progressive types who were offended by racial humor and violent slapstick inadvertently caused the extinction of laughter.  It's up to a secret society, armed with bad puns and blackface, to restore hope to mankind.

I hate to speak ill of the dead (Beaumont died on my 48th birthday this year), but this story is as bad as it sounds.

One star.

"…But for the Grace of God", by Gilbert Thomas

A predator of the masculine variety comes across a much more capable predator of the feminine variety.  A bit too long-winded and predictable to be truly effective, but I appreciate what the author is doing, nevertheless.

Three stars.

Non-Time Travel, by Isaac Asimov

Every so often, the Good Doctor finds himself so at a loss for ideas, that he picks a pointless subject to expound upon.  His piece on the International Date Line is pleasant enough, but it could just as easily have been a paragraph long.

Three stars.

The First Postulate, by Gerald Jonas

On a remote Mexican island, where the Mayan tradition still runs strong, the first two deaths due to natural causes in over forty years of worldwide immortality have been reported.  The scientific team dispatched there encounters increasing resistance from the locals, who ultimately fire their base to retrieve the corpses.  Is it a kind of insanity that drives the indios?  Or is it a natural reaction to an unnatural situation?

Readable, vivid, if not particularly memorable.  Three stars.

A Discovery in the Woods, by Graham Greene

Lastly, another after-the-bomb tale, told from the perspective of a band of bandy youths who encounter a house of the giants.  This one is all in the telling, a lovely tale that reminds me of Edgar Pangborn's Davy.

Four stars.

Miles to go before I sleep

So ends a perfectly suitable (with one small exception) issue.  My only real complaint is that I finished it on the flight out!  Luckily, I've got another book reserved for the flight back, which you'll hear about next month.

In the meantime, please wish me luck for tonight's speech!


by Gahan Wilson





[May 18, 1967] After Dune (the fantastic setting of Yemen)


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

Giant worms and spacefaring spice addicts in Frank Herbert's Dune introduced many genre readers to the fantastical potential of vaguely Islamic-themed fictional settings. But there's so much more to the real-life worlds and cultures he lightly touched on, so many more exciting, complex, beautiful places writers could be taking us.

Take Yemen.

The mouth of the harbor sits at the bottom a giant volcanic rock face, the black stone caldera soaring up around it on 3 sides. For centuries, the 53 Cisterns of Tawila held nearly a million gallons of water for the port city of Aden. Generations used these deep, carefully engineered pools to not only manage monsoon seasons that would break and slide over the volcanic cliffs surrounding the city, but provide a bustling community with fresh, clean water even in the hottest months.

Photo of Aden in 1960, uploaded by Wikipedia user Mac9: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Aden01_flickr.jpg
Aden: the only major city in the world sitting in the mouth of an extinct volcano. Can't get much more sci fi than that. (Image via Mac9)

Travel north, past Queen Asma (?-1087 CE) and Queen Arwa (1048–1138 CE)'s great palaces and you can find the Marib Dam, from which people used successfully to irrigate 25,000 acres of farmable land 2000 years ago. Keep going east to the city of Shibam and you'll find skyscrapers over 10 stories tall, made from what this Californian could call adobe bricks, one and two room floors connected by sudden staircases and adorned by sweet little balconies. During your travels, you'll hear a local language influenced by a dozen indigenous languages, with a healthy smattering of the best bits of various invaders' tongues. The food is hot and plentiful, the oases well-loved, the stars unending, the many mountains steep, and the local politics as complex as any you've followed. Just off the coast is an island where most of the plants and animals exist nowhere else in the world and hold names like "Worm Snakes" and "Dragon's Blood Trees."

To me, this setting begs for a novel or a TV series. Frank Herbert or Stanley Kubrick, are you listening?

Write Beyond What You Know

The problem is, outside Frank Herbert and the sadly departed Cordwainer Smith, our fantasy and fantastic SF all tend to be written by people who know nothing but the European historical tradition. Any overly optimistic writer who tells a stranger she enjoys writing fiction will probably hear the advice to "write what you know." And this can be true for internal beats, for emotions, for arcs and compelling endings. But when writer after writer sets novel after novel, episode after episode, in the same gloomy castles, writes knights riding the same bridled horses over the same musty moats to fight the same stale dragons, I think this old advice has turned into a trap. And what's worse, it's a trap that reinforces a European-centric view of the world, of history, of culture, and when used in science fiction, of the future.

It's been close to a century since anyone in my direct family called Europe home, but still, when I was growing up and I imagined writing a fantasy, the setting was staffed by maidens fair and knights gallant. That frustrating limitation on my own imagination is why I started to travel in college and after, why I learned Arabic and bits of Hebrew, Spanish, French, and enough Japanese to sound-out street signs in Japantown in San Francisco or San José. I particularly enjoy traveling to the Middle East, to Doha and Ramallah and Gaza, to Muscat and Cairo and Istanbul.

I'm not the first western woman writer to be curious about the Middle East, or to travel alone through large parts of it. From 1937-1938, 44-year-old British-Italian travel writer Freya Stark spent a winter in Yemen and wrote a detailed, sympathetic, hilarious diary about it titled, as one might expect, A Winter in Arabia. She went to the port city of Aden, to Queen Arwa's palace, to the mud-built skyscrapers of Shibam. She went out into the world to know more about it, and then she wrote what she knew. Like any good writer, she didn't try and own or warp the cultures she saw, but tried to tell the truth, as she saw and understood it. She had little patience for people who did less.

Photo from Atlas Obscura article on Freya Stark: https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/elise-wortley-traveler-freya-stark
“I began to wonder again why I, and so many others like me, should find ourselves in these recondite places. We like our life intensified, perhaps. Travel does what good novelists also do to the life of every day, placing it like a picture in a frame or a gem in its setting, so that the intrinsic qualities are made more clear. Travel does this with the very stuff that everyday life is made of, giving to it the sharp contour and meaning of art: and unless it succeeds in doing this, its effect on the human being is not, I believe, very great .. . . Most people anyway try to avoid having their feelings intensified: for indeed one must be strong to place oneself alone against the impact of the unknown world. ” — Freya Stark, Riding to the Tigris, 1959. (Image via Atlas Obscura)
"No one in their senses would say, 'I have spent ten years in Holland and therefore I know all about Bulgaria'; but it is a fact that seven people out of ten will assume that a visit to Morocco opens out the secrets of Samarkand. The East is just East in their minds, a homogeneous lump." -- Freya Stark, A Winter in Arabia
The Middle East: Not a Homogenous Lump.

The same ignorances she highlighted 30 years ago still infect most people's understandings of the region. A friend might read about one country's struggles in the newspaper, and assume they know about every other country. Even worse, they might hear about a conflict between two countries and assume that conflict encompasses the whole of what there is to be known about both countries. It would be a bit like someone being taught United States history and having their first fact about us be that we're a country in conflict with Cuba. And that is part of who we are, but it is certainly not all of it; and there are many perspectives on that topic, particularly within Cuban American communities. As writers, we have the opportunity to see more, to learn more, not just passively, but actively – to learn more about the world so we can write more about it.

The few Americans who know anything about Yemen today tend to know about Operation Magic Carpet, where from 1949-1950 American and British airlines worked tirelessly to help about 49,000 Yemenite Jews from Yemen and nearby countries get to Israel after they faced credible threats of violence and some actual violence from their neighbors and states. The discrimination those Yemenite Jews have faced in Israel has been less well-publicized, but is worth understanding, as well as the the way that Mizrahi Jewish people (those who moved or fled to Israel from Middle Eastern and North African countries) view and understand their own histories of diaspora differently than Sephardic, Ashkenazic, or Ethiopian Jews.

Yemen is a Kosher Topic

I'll pause here. Most Americans have a big ball of complicated emotions in their chests about Israel, the U.S. relationship to Israel, the relationships between Israel and her neighbors, and the future of the region. Some have very simple emotions, for good or ill; some don't care at all. Many Christians I grew up with don't know any more than they were taught in Sunday school. But the gravitational force that Israel exerts on most conversations about the region is something anyone curious about the Middle East must come to contend with.

Wikipedia user Kendite's image of Dhamar Ali Yahbur II, an ancestor of Dhū Nuwās: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Dhamar_Ali_Yahbur_II.jpg Image shows Greek influences. Via user Kendite.
Ancestor of Dhū Nuwās: Dhamar Ali Yahbar ruled in the late third or early fourth century CE.  One of the 13  Jewish Kings of Yemen. Exhibited in the Sana'a National Museum. (Image via Kendite).

That's why I like learning about Dhū Nuwās, 13th ruler of the Jewish Kingdom of Ḥimyar in Yemen in the 500s. The Himyarite Kingdom had had Judaism as its de facto state religion for over a century at that point. The Byzantine Emperor, Justin I asked Ma'dīkarib Yafur, the ruler of the Christian Kingdom of Axum in Ethiopia to invade Yemen and overthrow Dhū Nuwās.

Talk about a setting for a fantasy novel. No musty moats or drippy castles, this story has armies crossing the stormy Bab al-Mandab Strait; it has intrigue as we don't know who started the war or why. It has oasis cities razed to the ground; transnational alliances from Constantinople to Ethiopia; countries in the throes of mass conversion; and tragedy, as Dhū Nuwās is overthrown and the ruler of Axum takes over in Yemen. It has real people, widows and soldiers, farmers and fishermen, people who carved the stone steles which tell us this story and people who had to find a new way to preserve their faith in spite of the rulers who took over.

From David Rumsey's Map Collection: https://www.davidrumsey.com/luna/servlet/detail/RUMSEY~8~1~311612~90081050:Jazirat-al-Arab?sort=Pub_List_No_InitialSort%2CPub_Date%2CPub_List_No%2CSeries_No&qvq=w4s:/when%2F1909;q:yemen;sort:Pub_List_No_InitialSort%2CPub_Date%2CPub_List_No%2CSeries_No;lc:RUMSEY~8~1&mi=4&trs=40#
1959 Map of Yemen and Arabian Peninsula. Publisher: John Bartholomew & Son LTD. Lots of those pink lines Freya Stark complained about (Image via David Rumsey's Map Collection).

Fantastic Yemen

Whether your tone as a writer is epic or epistolary, intensely personal or wide-sweeping, there are just as many stories to tell in this tiny slice of Yemeni history as there are in any given year of the War of the Roses or the Battle for Agincourt. And as readers, we can demand to see these kinds of stories. We can write to our magazines and ask for a view beyond what the BBC World Service is willing to provide. And when we find stories that satisfy our freshly whetted palates, we can share and recommend them.

Reading and writing fantasy and science fiction that respectfully includes the people and places in the Middle East isn't going to end the North Yemen Civil War, nor address the Soviet Union, Saudi Arabia, the United Kingdom, or Jordan's encouragement of it, nor Egypt's heavy commitment of ground troops to it. But I believe that learning and writing and reading teaches us empathy, teaches us to question, so when the nightly news asks us to accept violence or hatred as a region's due, we know that's just not true. We know there are histories and complexities beyond "centuries of conflict." We have a right to learn, to help ourselves and our communities better understand the world and our place in it. And perhaps, help to build a more peaceful world. Not to mention, enrich our fantasy and science fictional worlds!

Uploaded by Flicker User Yvonne Thompson, CC licensed: https://www.flickr.com/photos/yvonnert/5443721933
Vacation photos from Aden, 1966. Yes, Yemen. (Image via Yvonne Thompson).

Bibliography

If you're curious about this region, below are a few recommendations – and I would love to hear more from readers if you have them!

  • A Winter in Arabia, by Freya Stark.
  • Enjoy some Yemenite folk music (your local record store should have Mohamed Al-Harithy and Geula Gill discs or be able to order them from the label)

     

    and

  • Consider subscribing to some magazines that will bring in-depth, alternate views on current affairs. I like Foreign Affairs for a sense of what government leaders want me to think, Jewish Currents for what leftists want me to think, and The Economist for what capitalists want me to think.
  • Reach out to your local mosque, or if you don't live near one, find one in a nearby city. Ramadan starts on August 25th this year, and many masjids may open their doors for community dinners. Get to know your neighbors and ask them what newspapers they think you should subscribe to to learn more about the region.
  • Then share that knowledge with your friends and write to learn!