Fiction Review: The Wailing

| April 4, 2013

BY MR GRAHAM
Self-published
Reviewed by Anna Burwell

16119160Enter ‘Professor’ Leland, existing furtively in the chaos surrounding the Blitz with his roommate (of sorts), Rowan. Employed—as he seems to have always been—by the mysterious body known in-narrative as ‘the Management,’ Leland is charged with doing his part for the war effort in this time of crisis. In this case, eliminating something slightly less German and slightly more supernatural—an individual known only as ‘Signe.’ Armed only with a photograph of his target (along with a small arsenal, a wizard, and his taciturn roommate), Leland tracks down the mysterious Signe to do his part for King and Country.

I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting much from a story of a scant seventy pages and some change, but I was pleasantly surprised. Naturally, it isn’t without its faults. Because it’s only seventy-six pages, the same plight that affects short stories is still applicable. That is to say, it’s very condensed, leaving precious little elbow room for particulars in regards to characterization. Unfortunately, thanks to the narrative style and the pace, it takes about half the story before The Wailing hits full stride. When it finally does reach that point, the reader can take a break for devious grins if so inclined.

It’s often been cited that leaders of writing workshops encourage the participants to be complete devils to their poor, unsuspecting creations. Graham does just that. I feel I should have seen the twist coming, but the narrative immerses you in Leland’s own thoughts, as well as his disastrous oversights. In fact, I felt it made up for the lack of surprise when the barest particulars of his backstory were revealed. Of course, one can’t simply have a dieselpunk dark fantasy set during World War II without death and destruction running rampant. I commend Graham for what [s]he did within a small span (the plodding section in the beginning aside).

S.A.M. #81: Your Businesslike Bomber

| March 23, 2013

Given its origin, the Blenheim could be called “fast and spurious”. The aircraft was initially envisaged as a luxury transport and wasn’t a part of any military programme.

Bristol 142M Blenheim

The often told story of the six-seat executive aircraft built for Lord Rothermere, proprietor of the aviation-supporting Daily Mail, usually misses the vital point. Why did he want a fast executive aircraft? Primarily it was to show the world that Britain could build a civil aircraft at least as good as the Douglas DC-1. Bristol’s Type 142 first flew on 12 April 1935. When tested at Martlesham Heath in June it proved to be 80 km/h faster than Britain’s latest fighter prototype.

Bristol 142M Blenheim cutawayThe outcome was the Bristol Type 142M, the most important changes being to provide armament, a bomb aimer’s position, internal bomb stowage and more powerful 626kW Mercury VIII radial engines. To make room for a bomb bay in the lower fuselage, the low-wing configuration of the civil Type 142 was changed to mid-wing for the military version, which became named Blenheim.

Bristol 142M Blenheim Mk II L1222 Filton 1938The prototype made its first flight on 25 June 1936, and initial deliveries went to No 114 Bomber Squadron in March 1937.

Bristol 142M Blenheim Mk I K7037 No. 90 Sqd. 1938

Bristol 142M Blenheim RAF

Bristol 142M Blenheim RAF variantsThe Blenheim was also exported to Turkey and Finland:

Bristol 142M Blenheim Turkey 1938Bristol 142M Blenheim Finland 1937The requirement for longer range led to evolution of the long-nosed, increased tankage and strengthened landing gear version, named originally Bolingbroke I. These began to enter RAF service in March 1939, by then designated Blenheim IV.

Bristol 149 Blenheim / BolingbrokeBy the outbreak of World War II Blenheim Is had been superseded by Mk IVs in the UK, but remained in first-line service in Greece and the Western Desert. Blenheim IF night-fighters had their armament of two machine-guns supplemented by a four-Browning under-fuselage gun pack. These aircraft pioneered British airborne radar, serving throughout the blitz of 1940-41.

Bristol 149 Bolingbroke

Blenheim IVs had their share of early fame – making the first reconnaissance over Germany of World War II on 3 September 1939, the first attack on the German Fleet on 4 September – and were continuously active over Europe on daylight raids until late 1941.

Beercrate Flak of World War II

| January 23, 2013

Allied airmen had to face every manner of threat when penetrating the skies over the Reich. From Focke Wulf fighters to deadly German “88s” the air over Europe was filled with threats a plenty. But as the Reich crumbled and the Allied moved deeper in the lands of Germany, a series of last ditch weapons were fielded, including the Hs 297 Fohn.

As low tech a weapon as there was, the Fohn was a five layered metal rack that held German 7.29cm rockets. These rockets were loaded, 35 total, as a group and fired as a group as well. Volley fire of the small, high velocity unguided rockets was designed to take out an aircraft with a wall of aggression.

The launcher was a simple affair, traversing 360 degrees towards airborne threats. The operator would stand to the left of the rack, launching a mass of rockets or single munitions. It was reloaded by pivoting the rack vertical and the replacement rockets were slid into the base of the assembly.

Reaching out to just over a kilometer, the Fohn was a close in defense of strategic fixed targets like bridges or airfields. Only about 50 were ever produced and fewer still fielded. Interestingly, the name Fohn, means ”hair dryer.” A volley of these rockets speeding upwards is more hair raising than anything.

Why A German Pilot Escorted An American Bomber To Safety During World War II

| January 1, 2013

I learned of the following article through a link posted on the Western PA Dieselpunks Facebook page. It’s an article posted at the web site Jalopnik.com titled, “Why A German Pilot Escorted An American Bomber To Safety During World War II” by Benjamin Preston.

As we begin 2013, let’s remember this story of universal brotherhood during this war that so defined the Diesel Era and the genre of Dieselpunk. May it serve as a beacon of hope for a peaceful new year. – Larry Amyett, Jr.

Once in a while, you hear an old war story that restores your faith in humanity. Usually it involves a moment of quiet in the midst of chaos; some singing or the sharing of a few condiments. But how many of them take place in mid air?

This is the remarkable story of a crippled American bomber spared by a German fighter pilot. After the two planes’ pilots had a mid-air moment of understanding, it didn’t seem likely that they’d ever see one another again. Only they did, and became closer than brothers.

Here’s how it all went down.

It was a few days before Christmas in 1943, and the Allied bombing campaign in Germany was going at full tilt. Second Lieutenant Charlie Brown was a freshly minted bomber pilot, and he and his crew were about to embark upon their first mission — to hit an aircraft factory in northern Germany.

Brown’s B-17F Flying Fortress, dubbed Ye Olde Pub, was typical of American heavy bombers of the time. Along with an 8,000-pound bomb capacity, the four-engine plane was armed with 11 machine guns and strategically placed armor plating. B-17s cruised at about 27,000 feet, but weren’t pressurized. At that altitude, the air is thin and cold — 60 degrees below zero. Pilots and crew relied upon an onboard oxygen system and really warm flight suits with heated shoes.

Great Rifle, Bad Timing: FN Model 1949

| October 17, 2012

Sometimes a great rifle comes along and doesn’t quite get its due. Sometimes its mischambered in an under-powered ammunition. Other times it falls victim to bad timing. That is the legacy of the stout and much overlooked Fabrique Nationale Model 1949.

Born in the years before the outbreak of World War II, the FN Model 49 was improved and refined by the Belgian weapons manufacturer to create a weapon that lasted many decades.

The semi-automatic rifle narrowly missed service in World War II and would have been a capable and noteworthy addition to the armory of combatants. Looking for the next generation rifle, with bolt action waning and semi-automatic the newest trend, FN put their minds back to the Model 1949.

While the United States went to Korea with M1 Garands and the Soviet Bloc secretly produced the rifle that would change the face of small arms, the AK-47, Belgium went for the Model 1949.

Firing one shot per trigger pull, the Model 1949 was gas operated and fed by a fixed 10 round magazine chambered initially in 7 x 57mm for Venezula. Belgium, as well as other armies, fielded the Model 1949 in .30-06. Egypt armed their forces with the Model 1949 in 7.92mm Mauser. Even the United States even looked at the FN rifle, chambered in its post-Korean caliber of 7.62 x 51mm that would go into the venerable detachable magazine fed M-14.

Like the Tokarev rifle, the Model 1949 was  a gas operated tilting block weapon. As propellant gas acted on a piston, the block inside the receiver moved back and tilted, allowing a spent case to be ejected and a fresh round to be chambered upon the forward recoil.

The ability to convert the basic Model 1949 in select fire ran into trouble, with the caliber and recoil forces never quite in practical balance. The U.S. faced the same issue with the M-14, with it remaining semi-automatic after failed experiments to turn it to select-fire.

Italy’s Obscure SMG

| May 16, 2012

Despite have a long distinguished firearms heritage, Italian smallarms makers during World War II seemed to have floundered in attempts to make the next great advance in weapons designs. They came close quite often, but inevitably fell short when finding that right next generation weapon. And while other weapons makers were utilizing standard methods of operation for their rifles and submachine guns, Italian designers took an unusual route in their expertly built FNAB-43.

Only 7,000 of these 9mm Parabellum submachine guns were built during World War II and most of them confined to the Northern Italy front of 1943-1944. A folding-stock SMG, the FNAB-43 had a front pivoting magazine well to reduce the overall sihlouette of the weapon with a magazine inserted. The Italian SMG could take a 20 or 40-round magazine that would be spent at a relatively low, controlable rate of fire.

At 400 rounds per-minute, the FNAB-43 could put a steady, slow string of bullets. This rate of fire was not accplished by traditional methods of a heavy bolt or recoil springs, but rather lever-delayed blowback. The bolt assembly on the FNAB-43 had a bolt head and a small lever piece between it and the bolt body. As the bolt head recoiled slightly upon firing of the round, the lever would apply mechanical friction, slowing the rearward progress of the entire bolt assembly until it was unlocked when propellant gas levels reduced to safe levels.

A perfectly effective submachine gun, the FNAB-43 suffered from timing as Facist Italy fell war-time production staggered making the precision construction of the FNAB-43 unattainable.

Needle Versus Tank

| May 2, 2012

Since starting Weapons of War I’ve profiled a number of World War II anti-tank or anti-material rifles, usually beasts of weight, size and power. Not truly anti-tank calibers by the late war, more effective against soft-skinned vehicles or lightly, these weapons were essentially oversized shoulder fired weapons. Germany fielded one such anti-tank rifle, the Panzerbuchse 39.

Chambered in 7.92 x 94mm the hefty rifle pushed a bullet at a blistering 3,540 feet per second, the first sign of effectiveness. However, if the wrong bullet type goes downrange, it doesn’t mean the target will be destroyed or incapacitated. Initially the P.z.B. 39 fired a hardened steel core bullet with a small tear gas capsule seated in the rear of the bullet. When the round penetrated the tank the tear gas capsule was supposed to break and force out the crew. The idea was overly complicated and didn’t work so well. So after 1940, based on a Polish design, Germany introduced a tungsten cored penetrator that increased its effectiveness. At 300 yards the 7.92mm tungsten round could penetrate one inch of armor, with increasing penetration rates at closer ranges.

Weighing in at 27 lbs the P.z.B. 39 was a single shot rifle with a folding stock that cut down the length from just 60 inches to 42 inches. Being a single shot weapon, the rifle was outfitted with a pair of removal ten-round ammunition carriers to improve the speed of reloading. 

Firing the P.z.B. 39  was achieved not by rotating out a traditional bolt-action assembly, but rather titling the pistol grip. A dropping block breach layout mean the pistol and trigger assembly acted as the bolt unlock mechanism. The grip was pulled down and forward, dropping the breach block and exposing the chamber. A fresh round was inserted, grip tilted up, raising the blocking and fully seating the round before the grip locked into place.

Allied testing of captured rifles showed it was almost an easy firing weapon, due to its weight absorbing much of the felt recoil.

Mauser’s Pocket Pistols

| April 25, 2012

The pocket pistol to some evokes images of cheap, dangerous handguns that often are more deadly to their handlers than opponents. However, well made pocket pistols was one of the strong suits of the firearms giant Mauser during the first decades of the 20th century.

Mauser produced a series of pocket pistols the Model 1910, 1914 and 1934 designed to be slipped into a waistcoat or in the case of the Mauser WTPI and II, a pistol so small it fit in a vest pocket.

The Model 1910 and its decedents was a simple direct blowback pistol with a fixed barrel. That fired the reduced power of ammunition of the smaller .25 and .32 ACP rounds, two calibers that remain common chambers in pocket pistols. Look at the silouette of the 1910 series, you will see a slight protrusion beneath the muzzle. That latch could be twisted to begin the disassebly process of the fixed barrel and slide. Initially, the Model 1910 was known as the “side latch” because disassembly was achieved by a small lever on the frame above the trigger guard.

The Model 1910/14 was chambered in .25 ACP in a nine-round magazine. The Model 1914 put .32 ACP rounds down range. A brief run of 200 Model 1912 pistol’s were made chambered in 9mm. However, its believed the success of this more powerful round and pistol combination was killed by the outbreak of World War I. All Model 1910/14/34 pistols were used by German forces through both World Wars.

Smaller still was the WTP I and II. The acronym WTP is German “Westen Taschen Pistole” for vest pocket pistol. The two inch barrel and six round .25 ACP capacity of the WTP series maintained the tradition of compact size that continues today. Weighing about 10 ounces loaded, the WTP was slightly heavier than a roll of quarters.The WTP I was the first post-World War I pistol produced by Mauser and was successful. The WTP II (above) was less pletinful due to the start of World War II, but did show up in the hands of Occupied Frenchmen. The ergonomics of the WTP made it functional in hands large or small.

Knights of the Air: The HMS Furious, one of the first aircraft carriers

| April 19, 2012

Welcome to Knights of the Air, a weekly series on Dieselpunks spotlighting the aces and pioneering aerial technology of World War I.

From the moment the flying machine showed signs of military usefulness, navies of the world sought ways to employ airplanes at sea. In a 1910 experiment, American pilot Eugene Ely took off in a Curtiss biplane down a sloping ramp built above the foredeck of the cruiser USS Birmingham. The plane dipped so low that the tips of its propeller splintered against the water, yet Ely managed a safe landing ashore. Several months later, he set down successfully on the anchored battleship USS Pennsylvania, which had been outfitted with a level landing platform.

During the War, England’s Navy pioneered the launching of planes at sea to bomb and scout the enemy – although with limited success. After its mission, a land plane launched from a ship had to choose between heading for shore or ditching near the ship. Seaplanes could be recovered in calm seas, but the ships that carried them steamed so slowly that, after stopping to hoist the planes from the water, they could not catch up with the fleet.

To solve that problem, the British converted a partially built light cruiser, HMS Furious, into a seaplane carrier. With a top speed of 31.5 knots, the Furious was fast enough to overtake other ships after retrieval.

Taking off from the forward deck of the Furious as it steamed into the wind was safe enough. Landing, on the other hand, appeared to be so risky that it was not even part of the Admiralty’s plans for the ship. Then Squadron Commander EH Dunning, the ship’s senior pilot, persuaded his superiors to let him try a landing; he would have to fly slowly alongside the ship, then sideslip deftly in front of the bridge and onto the deck.

In August 1917, Dunning demonstrated that such a landing was possible, although extremely hazardous. A landing deck equipped with rudimentary arresting gear was built onto the stern of the Furious the following winter, but trial landings on it were largely unsuccessful.

Knights of the Air: The War in Stained Glass

| April 12, 2012

Welcome to Knights of the Air, a weekly series on Dieselpunks spotlighting the aces and pioneering aerial technology of World War I.

Their motives were many, and some perhaps naïve: adventure, glory, a simple urge, as one of them said, “to get into the scrap.” But as Edwin Parsons said many years later of his former squadron, the Lafayette Escadrille, “I don’t know a single one of the boys who didn’t have a deep-seated desire to help France.”

The gallant gesture of the young Americans – and some of them indeed were little older than 18 – touched an appreciative nerve among the French. After the War, a joint Franco-American committee honored the volunteers with a permanent memorial, of which the stained-glass windows pictured below are a part.

Between 1916 and 1918, when most of the men transferred to the United States Air Service, more than 200 Americans flew for France. Some served with the original Lafayette Escadrille, while others formed the Lafayette Flying Corps and were scattered throughout the French air service. “They were fighting to get in,” Parsons recalled. And once in, they fought well. All told, they were credited with 199 air victories. But the price was high, 63 of the Americans were killed in action. Two others died of illness and accident before the Armistice.

Most of the dead are buried at the Lafayette Escadrille Memorial near Versailles. Dedicated on the Fourth of July, 1928, the shrine is composed of a central arch of triumph flanked by colonnades, and a sanctuary (burial crypt). Light filters into the tomb through a series of 13 stained-glass windows, which were paid for by public subscription in France and America. Designed by an anonymous artist, they show the United States airmen in flight over the various sectors where they did battle.

In a tribute composed for the memorial, English poet Richard Le Gallienne wrote in part:

France of the many lovers, none than these
Hath brought you love of an intenser flame…
Their golden youth they gave, and here are laid
Deep in the arms of France for whom they died.

Knights of the Air: WWI as envisioned by the Japanese (circa 1915)

| April 5, 2012

Welcome to Knights of the Air, a weekly series on Dieselpunks spotlighting the aces and pioneering aerial technology of World War I.

In a scene that could have been pulled straight from HG Wells’ classic War in the Air, a mighty air and sea battle between German and British forces is imagined in this fanciful 1915 Japanese lithograph.

Japanese lithograph from WWI

Japan, which had almost no experience with military aviation, had joined The Great War on the side of the Allies in August of 1914.  Its citizens, curious about events in the West, avidly purchased lithographs like this because news photographs were difficult to obtain and to reproduce.

The First Assault Rifle Caliber…of World War 1

| April 4, 2012

I’ve often written here about firearm “firsts.” First semi-automatic pistol, first truly suppressed weapon and the Holy Grail of weapon firsts, the first assault rifle. The Russians and Germans claim ownership to this title. A few other obscure weapons designers from around the world also vie for the title. Yet, in France, at the close of World War I, there was a little rifle that might give them a run for their money.

The Ribeyrolle 1918 was an 8mm caliber rifle that was born from a caliber that came from America. During the Great War France received increasin numbers of the Winchester Model 1907 (which deserves its own post) for their troops. The M1907 was chambered in a Winchester proprietary .351 caliber.

When French weapons designers received the Winchesters and the special ammunition, the wheels of repurposing began to spin. They knew the ballistic properties of the .351 caliber and decided to tinker. They took the .35 (9mm) case of the Winchester and neck it down to 8mm, the same bullet diameter of their standard bolt action rifle of the period. The resulting caliber was 8x35mm.

This is the first important step in creating an assault rifle. It is not the method of operation or look, but rather the creation of a special intermediate round. The Stg-44 from Germany, in 7.92x33mm, was a shortened Mauser rifle 7.92x57mm. And the Russian 7.62x39mm of the iconic AK-47 is a further derivation of the German effort. So almost 30 years before the German innovation of intermediate calibers,during World War I France was taking a special American round and turning it into something that might just work in a select-fire rifle.

The rifle built around the caliber was a fairly typical late 19th century affair, but it possessed a high capacity 25-round box magazine and the ability to switch between semi-and-automatic fire. Large magazine and select-fire are also keys to laying claim to the title of assault weapon.