{"id":12920,"date":"2020-06-26T10:33:17","date_gmt":"2020-06-26T10:33:17","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=12920"},"modified":"2020-06-26T16:05:12","modified_gmt":"2020-06-26T16:05:12","slug":"thrilling-wonder-stories-v25n02-winter-1944","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=12920","title":{"rendered":"Thrilling Wonder Stories v25n02, Winter 1944"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Summary: A poor issue with little of note\u2014not even the three Kuttner stories are up to much. But it was nice to get acquainted with Sergeant Saturn in the letters column.
\n[ISFDB page<\/a>] [Archive.org copy<\/a>]<\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

Editor, Oscar J. Friend<\/p>\n

Fiction:
\nA God Named Kroo<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novella by Henry Kuttner \u2217\u2217<\/strong>
\nVenusian Nightmare<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Oscar J. Friend [as by Ford Smith] –
\nThe Invisible Army<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novelette by Ross Rocklynne –
\nTrophy <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 short story by Henry Kuttner [as by Scott Morgan] \u2217<\/strong>
\nMoon Trap <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 short story by John Foster West –
\nSwing Your Lady<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Henry Kuttner [as by Kelvin Kent] \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\nSpace Command<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novelette by Robert Arthur –<\/p>\n

Non-fiction:
\nCover <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 by Rudolph Belarski
\nInterior artwork<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 by uncredited (x7), M. Marchioni (x2), Virgil Finlay (x2)
\nThe Reader Speaks<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 letters
\nHeadliners in the Next Issue<\/em><\/strong>
\nScientifacts <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 science filler
\nThe Reasons Why<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 essay by Walter Lippmann
\nWonders of War<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 war weapons filler
\nMeet This Issue\u2019s Amateur Contest Prize-Winner!
\nThe Story Behind the Story: The Invisible Army<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 essay by Ross Rocklynne
\nThe Story Behind the Story: Space Command<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 essay by Robert Arthur<\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

I picked up this issue to read the Retro Hugo Award nominated Kuttner novella, and decided to read the rest of it as there were another two of his (pseudonymous) stories here as well. Big mistake. The difference in quality between this magazine and Astounding<\/em> is marked and, if other issues of Thrilling Wonder Stories<\/em> and Startling Stories<\/em> are as poor as this one, then I\u2019m baffled as to how Oscar J. Friend is one of the Retro Hugo Award Best Editor finalists.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The fiction leads off with A God Named Kroo<\/em><\/strong> by Henry Kuttner, which isn\u2019t science fiction but a Unknown<\/em>-ish (or perhaps more accurately sub-Unknown<\/em>-ish) fantasy that starts with the Himalayan god Kroo lamenting his lack of followers, lack of sacrifices, and consequential slow death. Then a white man comes and buys\/requisitions the holy yak that lives in the courtyard of Kroo\u2019s temple; the man, Dr Horace Danton, needs to get his expedition collection down from the Himalayas to the river.
\nUnknown to Danton and the rest of the party, Kroo tags along when they leave, and soon makes his presence felt from his position in the dark cloud above the group: when there is a landslide that sweeps the holy yak and another beast into the crevasse, Kroo levitates the former and puts it back on the track while the other yak falls to its death; later, when the local hillmen attack Danton and the others, lightning shoots out of Kroo\u2019s cloud. Kroo then removes all doubt about his existence when he starts talking through Danton who, when he still doesn\u2019t believe, is levitated into the air. When Kroo makes Danton his high priest, the latter complains that he needs to get back to the States, so Kroo levitates the yak as well, and off they go.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

En route Kroo drops off Danton and the yak at a power station in Burma, and departs on an errand. After a night\u2019s sleep Danton wakes up in the station to find Japanese soldiers there and, when he is taken to see Captain Yakuni, the educated and urbane Japanese officer in charge of the power plant, he finds out that WWII started while he was in the mountains exploring. While Danton is in Yakuni\u2019s office he meets the story\u2019s token female interest, Debbie Hadley, a spunky sort straight out of a Hollywood B-movie, and also a prisoner.
\nThe rest of the tale plays out mostly as you would expect: Debbie updates Danton on the progress of the war and also tells him that Yakuni is using the electric powerhouse to make small potent bombs that are causing havoc for the Allies. The pair decide to escape from their confinement so they can blow up the powerhouse but, before they can progress their plan, Kroo returns from his travels and gets involved. When he again speaks through Danton, it causes trouble with Yakuni:<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy did you come to Myapur? Why the powerhouse?\u201d [asked Yakuni.]
\n\u201cDelay not the priest of Kroo,\u201d Danton roared abruptly.
\nYakuni jerked back with a startled gasp. The soldiers moved their rifles into position.
\nDeborah made a hopeless, inarticulate noise and gripped Danton\u2019s arm.
\n\u201cDan, be careful,\u201d she gasped. \u201cDon\u2019t take off again. They\u2019ll shoot you sure this time.\u201d
\n\u201cHo,\u201d Danton bellowed at the astounded Yakuni. \u201cBow down and worship Kroo. He shall protect his chosen. Their nation will prosper above all others. Obey!\u201d
\n\u201cDr. Danton,\u201d the Captain said carefully, rising. \u201cI must ask you to modulate your voice. I must also request an apology. As an officer and representative of my country, I cannot allow this insult to pass.\u201d
\n\u201cWaste not words,\u201d Danton roared. \u201cYour allegiance henceforth is to Kroo. He shall make you mighty.\u201d
\n\u201cDon\u2019t mind him,\u201d Deborah whispered faintly. \u201cHe\u2019s really crazy. You mustn\u2019t have him shot, Captain Yakuni. He doesn\u2019t know what he\u2019s saying.\u201d
\nThe officer slowly unholstered a pistol.
\n\u201cI have said that I am willing to accept an apology. I am a civilized man, Miss Hadley, but I am also a servant of the Son of Heaven.\u201d
\n\u201cA false god,\u201d Danton broke in tactlessly. \u201cHe shall be overthrown by Kroo\u2019s might. Never dare to refer to your petty god again in Myapur, henceforth the holy sanctum of Kroo. On your knees, dog!\u201d
\nYakuni\u2019s eyes widened.
\n\u201cYou die!\u201d he said in a shocked voice, lifting his gun.\u00a0 p. 28-29<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The rest of the story proceeds pretty much in the same vein, complicated by the fact that Kroo considers the power station his temple, which makes it difficult for Debbie and Danton to destroy (they are both put under hypnotic conditioning by Kroo to prevent them harming the plant).
\nEventually, at the end of the story (spoiler), Kroo has to fight the stronger Dynamo god, and quickly dies in the explosion. This rather perfunctory climax does, however, provide a good closing passage:<\/p>\n

The fog was thick. It clung dankly, choking in its chill moisture, but as Kroo rode onward upon the yak he saw that it was drifting apart into rags and tatters. And now four tall figures were visible through the mist, guarding a bridge. Beyond them an arched span led into infinity. Silently the giants waited.
\nBull-thewed and terrible they stood. They greeted Kroo with strange, formal gestures of welcome.
\nThey gave their names.
\nMarduk and Ormazd the Flame\u2014Osiris and Allatu of Babylon. Ormazd shook his red head and grinned at Kroo.
\n\u201cWe greet you, Kroo the Warrior.\u201d
\nBut Kroo could not speak, for a little while.
\n\u201cThis could not be Godsheim,\u201d he said. \u201cI am a little god\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cThis is the bridge to Godsheim,\u201d Marduk told him. \u201cDead gods pass this way, if they are not weaklings. There is a place for you.\u201d
\nKroo\u2019s hairy hands went out in a gesture of disbelief. \u201cOrmazd! Tall Osiris\u2014Marduk and Allatu! But I am not great\u2014I might have been, in a thousand years, but I died too soon.\u201d
\n\u201cYou fell in battle,\u201d Osiris said. \u201cYou challenged the mightiest entity in all the universes. None of us has dared to meet such an opponent as slew you. Hai\u2014you are one of us, brother. Come!\u201d
\nMarduk and Ormazd flanked him. Allatu went before. Osiris followed.
\nAnd Kroo the Warrior rode across the bridge to Godsheim.\u00a0 p. 42-43<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

This first part of this piece is average to good fantasy but, when they land en route at the power station in Burma, it becomes more of a wartime adventure and, although there are parts that aren\u2019t bad, it mostly reads like something Kuttner made up to pay the rent. It\u2019s not good enough to be a Retro Hugo finalist, never mind a winner.1<\/sup><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Venusian Nightmare<\/em><\/strong> by Oscar J. Friend2<\/sup> opens with three men, including a cop, walking across the semi-quicksand surface of Venus after their ship\u00a0 was forced to land (they can\u2019t stop walking or they\u2019ll sink like it did). It has some pretty awful writing:<\/p>\n

\u201cCould it have been a Crowder agent, then?\u201d mused Morton.
\n\u201cWhy would Crowder want to kill the publicity we could give him?\u201d demanded Doville. \u201cThis is the greatest iratrum strike anywhere in the System since the Lunar mines started playing out. Coupled with a revolutionizing method of extracting metallic iratex simply and quickly without going through the Bundersohn Process, it will make Amos Crowder the most famous man of the colonized worlds.\u201d
\n\u201cIf all this is on the level,\u201d added Carter. \u201cThe important thing right now is for us to get to the Crowder mine as soon as possible. Lucky there are no dangerous carnivores in this area. All I have in the way of a weapon is a hand ray-gun which won\u2019t even stun a man beyond twenty paces. Your two primitive hunting knives are more of an advantage under the present circumstances.\u201d\u00a0 p. 45<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

When they get to the mining camp they find it deserted, and also find the spaceship of Miriam Montez, an attractive but duplicitous reporter. Then they hear a thumping noise and follow it down the mine, where they find Montez tied up.
\nThe final act has the cave wall give way and (see cover) a Venusian Medusa\u2019s huge face fill the hole. The men grab their damsel in distress and escape.
\nThis is complete rubbish that was probably written to either (a) fill a pre-publication hole in the issue or (b) go with the cover painting.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The Invisible Army<\/em><\/strong> by Ross Rocklynne has a plot based on a passage that appears at the beginning of the story:<\/p>\n

Shortly after the Armistice which followed World War Two, when the troops of the United Nations marched into Germany to supervise the disarmament of the citadel of Festung Europa, one million of the three million men in arms remaining to Nazi Germany had vanished into thin air.\u00a0 p. 50<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

This comes to light in a conversation between Phil Hardesty and James Capet about a (supposedly-ex) Nazi called Maurer who came to live in America after the war. Hardesty and Capet know each other because of Hardesty’s relationship with Capet’s daughter Ileen, an investigative reporter who disappeared after taking a job as Maurer\u2019s housekeeper.
\nHardesty and Capet subsequently break into Maurer\u2019s house to see if they can find out what happened to her and, during their search, they find a fully-equipped lab in the basement. When one of them looks down a microscope (spoiler), they see thousands of microscopic troops! While the pair observe, Maurer ambushes them with a gun and sleeping gas.
\nWhen Hardesty and Capet awake, they find that they are in the miniaturised world and, after rescuing Ileen from a tentacle waving germ, they notice the military equipment around them:<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, we seem to have found the missing army\u2014more important, they\u2019ve managed to get it on American soil.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd that,\u201d said a deep voice from behind him, \u201cis the final and most important step in blitzrieg warfare.\u201d
\nHardesty turned quickly. He knew without asking that this was General von Streiber. Beneath his transparent helmet, the man was a perfect apotheosis of the thin-lipped, cold-eyed, square-headed Prussian military type. The general stood at ease, his feet planted wide apart, undressing Ileen coolly with his stare. She colored under his gaze, moved closer to the inventor.
\n\u201cBeauty,\u201d he said pompously, \u201cshould never be chary of her charms. Young lady, I must remember to compliment Herr Maurer on the ravishing guest he has sent me. These eternal maneuvers against germs keep the men hard and fit, but they grow wearisome in time.\u00a0 p. 56<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Various sub-microscopic and Brownian motion adventures ensue before the German invasion plans are neutralised.
\nThis reads like a refugee from the early 1930s.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Trophy <\/em><\/strong>by Henry Kuttner is the first of his two pseudonymous appearances in this issue, and starts with the Japanese ambush of a landing American aircraft\u2014which is interrupted by a torpedo shaped flying object that causes the latter to crash. In the ensuing firefight, the only two men to survive are Major Satura, a Japanese character similar to the one used by Kuttner in A God Called Kroo<\/em> (but this time a surgeon and a schemer) and Corporal Jarnegan, an American.
\nThe rest of the story (narrated, unusually, from Satura\u2019s point of view) involves a game of cat and mouse between the two men on the island, further complicated by various mirages or visions that Satura sees upon as he moves around (a pile of gold, a woman, a short-wave radio, a Mitsubishi Zero fighter, etc.). When Satura eventually picks up what he thinks is an automatic pistol, he finds himself transported into a silver walled cell. Once he manages to figure out how to get out, he realises he is inside the torpedo shaped vessel from earlier on. When he sees the hunting trophies hanging from the wall of the spacecraft\u2019s cabin he leaves quickly. Then he arranges matters so that Jarnegan will be the trophy of the alien hunter and not him. Biter-bit ending.
\nAlthough this early Predator<\/em>-type story sounds interesting, it is contrived and, at times, reads like anti-Japanese propaganda (which, given the times it was written in, is understandable\u2014it\u2019s just that the semi-stereotypical characterisation doesn\u2019t improve the piece).<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Moon Trap <\/em><\/strong>by John Foster West is this issue\u2019s \u201cPrize Winning Amateur Contest Story,\u201d and starts with Lieutenant Cross getting a briefing from the ship\u2019s captain about his upcoming mission on the Moon:<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are quite aware of the situation, and your duties, Lieutenant?\u201d
\nLieutenant Cross hesitated before answering. \u201cI am aware of my duties, sir. But not completely aware of the situation. I know that we must find a huge deposit of radium. The life of every inhabitant of United Earth depends on it. What I don\u2019t know, sir, is why, day after day, back on Earth thousands and more thousands of people become walking automatons, why they walk until they can stand no longer. And keep moving until they die from sheer exhaustion and malnutrition. I know that most of it is shrouded in military secrecy.\u201d\u00a0 p. 74<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

We later learn that the malady is a nervous disorder caused by exposure to radiation from atomic combustion, and that Radium is the only known cure. As if.
\nThe rest of the story (spoiler) has Cross land on the Moon and then fall down a long tunnel. Eventually he comes out the other side, and pendulums back and forth until he comes to a halt in the middle of the (co-incidentally) Radium-filled Moon. Once he figures out how to use timed bursts from his pistol to pendulum himself back to the surface, all that remains is to get back to the spaceship for tea and medals.
\nA gimmick story that should have stayed in the slushpile.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Swing Your Lady<\/em><\/strong> by Henry Kuttner is one of his \u2018Pete Manx\u2019 series. From a comment in the letter column, and a later remark in the story (\u201cMake it a nice safe time, Prof. I don\u2019t want to meet up with Lucrezia Borgia again\u2014or Merlin!\u201d) I get the impression that these stories pretty much take the form of Manx escaping his current day scrapes by time-travelling to different historical periods (I use the word \u201chistorical\u201d loosely).
\nManx explains his current romantic predicament to Professor Aker, operator of the time machine:<\/p>\n

\u201cI dunno how I got into this scrape, anyhow. I took her out once or twice and then she decides we\u2019ll get married. Ugh, the way she looks at a guy. Like needles. She figures we\u2019ll be married and I\u2019ll spiel for her act.\u201d Pete Manx laughed hollowly.
\nThe professor seemed amused. \u201cWhy not tell her no?\u201d
\n\u201cLook,\u201d said Mr. Manx, \u201clet\u2019s say you\u2019re in a cage with Gargantua, or maybe a giant python. Talking don\u2019t do much good. All you can do is run like blazes. And Margie\u2019s got detectives trailing me. I tried to skip out four times\u2014and the last time she\u2014talked to me.\u201d Manx gulped. \u201cYou never been talked to by a snake charmer with gimlets for eyes and a couple of baby boas twined around her neck. I argued. I begged. I said I\u2019d make a punk husband. \u2018I\u2019ll mould you into shape,\u2019 she says. And today\u2019s the wedding.\u201d\u00a0 p. 86<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Aker subsequently sends Pete back to the time of the Amazons and, when he arrives in the middle of a battle only to be captured by Queen Thecla, Manx realises he has exchanged one set of problems for another.
\nThe rest of the story is a breezily and entertainingly told tale about how Manx reinvents 20th<\/sup> Century technologies (he electro-plates swords, manufactures a searchlight (!), makes creosote, etc.) to get the upper hand for himself and the rest of the male servants. Then, when the men finally take control, there is a Greek invasion and none of them want to fight, so it\u2019s back to the women. There are another couple of plot twists but they are as ridiculous as the rest of the plot (using electric batteries to win wrestling matches with the Amazons, etc.).
\nIf you can ignore the nonsense you may find some amusement here.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Space Command<\/em><\/strong> by Robert Arthur3<\/sup> starts with Dan Harrigan, the captain of the Jupiter<\/em>, writing a letter of resignation as his spaceship approaches Venus. The trip has not gone well, and this is partially because the jealous first mate has, unknown to Harrigan, undermined his command throughout the trip. This will cost Harrigan not only his job but the hand of the fleet owner\u2019s daughter. Then an emergency causes them to force land on one of the few open spots on Venus. When the men go outside to commence repairs a huge black tentacle lifts the ship and takes it away.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The rest of the story is mostly an exobiology puzzle, which initially sees a near-lethal encounter with other \u201ceight-ball\u201d like aliens before Harrigan manages to work out how to use the latter to produce water (and\u00a0 another alien life-form to produce oxygen) in a cave like building left by extinct indigenous life. Another scientific insight sees Harrigan and his crew manage to manufacture and explode hydrogen over the black-tentacled beast, bringing the cliff down on it and releasing their ship.
\nBack in port Harrigan then fights the first mate (we discover Harrigan is a boxing champion) and, because of the rest of the crew\u2019s glowing report, he keeps his command and gets the girl.
\nThis is a readable piece, but pretty dreadful nonetheless.<\/p>\n

The eye-catching Cover <\/em><\/strong>is by Rudolph Belarski, and not bad if you like that sort of thing: the woman tied to the post is wearing a strange kind of outfit for a reporter, however.
\nThe Interior artwork<\/em><\/strong> is largely uncredited but there are a two drawings attributed to M. Marchioni and two to Virgil Finlay (who, strangely, contributes the second illustration for the Arthur story but not the first). None of it really grabs me apart from the uncredited first illustration for the Arthur (which looks like Hannes Bok\u2019s work to me).<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I found The Reader Speaks<\/em><\/strong> letter column quite irritating to begin with. First, there seem to be an endless series of\u2014mostly juvenile\u2014letters that are little more than lists of favourite stories (yes, I\u2019m aware of the irony) and, second, the column is hosted by \u201cSergeant Saturn,\u201d an equally juvenile (when not disgruntled) creation who refers to the readers as \u201ckiwis\u201d and \u201cpee-lots\u201d\u2014that\u2019s when he\u2019s not asking \u201cFrog-eyes\u201d to break out the \u201cXeno jug.\u201d What also didn\u2019t help was that I haven\u2019t read any of the stories that the readers are talking about.
\nMatters improved, however, as I ploughed through the column. Jotting down the favourites from the Autumn 1943 issue helped make sense of the comments (Fredric Brown\u2019s Daymare<\/em> seemed popular, as was The Man from the Stars<\/em> by Robert Moore Williams, and the amateur story prize winner The Bubble People<\/em> by James Henry Carlisle, III, a one-shot wonder). Also, every now and then, there are letters about the poor quality of the column, such as this one from Don Campbele:<\/p>\n

Dear Sarge: (to be read aloud in a high, nasal tone) \u201cI am six years old and I read CF, TWS, SS, WPA and OFA every issue. I. have my own rating system (who hasn\u2019t?) and it goes, in successive order of interest\u2014Bam, Zowie, Pop, Swish, Glug, and Phooey. For the last issue of TWS\u2014DAYMARE: Bam. The cover pic was good, too,\u201d etc., etc.
\nThat, Sarge, is a typical letter sent you. Please, sir, are all your readers morons or infants? F\u2019 hevvins\u2019 sake!
\n[. . .]
\nNow don\u2019t get me wrong. There are some readers who appear to have one or both feet on the ground. I find that in the last ish a guy named Marty Seligson holds the same views as I. Yet, Sarge, you call him down for taking shots at those who take shots at others. I am a peaceful man, but I\u2019m willing to join Seligson in the battle for more coherent reading material.
\nThere was a good example of fine letter-writing from a cadet at Camp Davis, yet you buried it deep in the department where people would never read it, having grown disgusted trying to wade through the others. Put your best letters in front!
\nI hope you can find space for this letter. I would really like some of the Happy Gang to find out what some of us think of their literary carousings. If another missive appears to say essentially the same thing as I do, only saying it better, by all means, print that\u2014only please don\u2019t let those infants hog the whole department every issue.\u00a0 p. 11<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The Sarge replies:<\/p>\n

So? You unload a full cargo on the old space dog and then steam out of port and leave me holding the bag, eh? Okay, Kiwi Campbele. I\u2019ll just shake this sack of clinkers out along the path and let the other junior astrogators kick peebles around. You know, sailor, the old Sarge personally has no time for fiction. He only prints the letters which come in. If they aren\u2019t erudite enough to suit, some of you adult critics write in more often.
\nWhat you see in it, I\u2019m not responsible for.\u00a0 p. 11<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Mmm, that\u2019s not quite right, Sarge\u2014you\u2019re the one padding out your magazine with endless letters-of-comment rather than paying for more fiction.
\nThe Sarge also has this to say to Bill Stoy, who suggests that the worst parts aren\u2019t the letters but the comments between them:<\/p>\n

So you\u2019re going to lay your temporary distaste for The Reader Speaks<\/em> on the old Sarge, eh? You know, kiwi, it\u2019s a thrilling experience to be like an item on sale in a bargain basement. You get pulled apart by so many different people and from so many different angles. Good thing the senior astrogator was put together on the order of Grag. Too much space lingo\u2014not enough space lingo\u2014too hard on the junior pee-lots\u2014not hard enough on the junior pee-lots\u2014too highbrow\u2014too lowbrow\u2014too much chatter by the Sarge\u2014not enough chatter by the Sarge. Quick, Frog-eyes, the Xeno jug!\u00a0 p. 118<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

A couple of the correspondents (Chad Oliver and Paul A. Carter) include their best story list for 1943 and agree on The Piper<\/em> by Ray Bradbury (February), Devil\u2019s Fiddle<\/em> by N. R. de Mexico (June), The Lotus Eaters<\/em> by Bolling Branham (August), and Expedition <\/em>by Anthony Boucher (August). Oliver has another half dozen picks, whereas Carter just has one, Grief of Bagdad<\/em> by \u201cKelvin Kent\u201d (although he knows the writer is really Henry Kuttner):<\/p>\n

After \u201cDe Wolfe of Wall Street,\u201d I was afraid Pete had slipped for good. I see that he hadn\u2019t. Gentle hint: Mr. Kuttner, Pete is much better when managing shady deals in the more or less remote past than when delving into paradoxes of Time. Just a suggestion.\u00a0 p. 120<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The column ends with the newly repositioned notes for the Science Fiction League<\/em>, the Amateur Story Contest<\/em> and Looking Forward<\/em> (this last somewhat duplicates the Headliners<\/em> feature).
\nI ended up quite enjoying this lively letters column.
\nHeadliners in the Next Issue<\/em><\/strong> trails, among others, two stories by women, Veil of Astellar<\/em> by Leigh Brackett, and the amateur prize-winner, Unsung Hero<\/em> by Ruth Washburn.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Scientifacts <\/em><\/strong>is four pages of science facts filler. Some of it is quite interesting (how diet determines the colour of flamingos; the colour seen in insect wings is due to refraction of light; an account of the newly begun mass manufacture of penicillin, etc.), but some of it is wibble:<\/p>\n

Professor L. H. Thomas, of Ohio State University, says that he has worked out a satisfactory theory concerning the reddish glow of light from the more distant star clusters. The dimming, reddish light\u2014as though the stars were running away and burning out\u2014is due, according to the professor, to a sort of \u201cfriction.\u201d The light, coming to us from such illimitable distances, becomes weaker\u2014tired\u2014and thus its color turns reddish. As the light energy weakens, the more it sags toward the seventh color of the spectrum and turns reddish.
\nThe friction is with the rubbing against so many other waves of light that the beam of a given star is buffeted about until its vibrational energy is lessened. This kind of friction Professor Thomas calls electro-magnetic in nature.\u00a0 p. 82-83<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

There is also this acid remark regarding the astronomical use of radar:<\/p>\n

Thus, the same beam that reported the presence of Japanese planes when they were still 135 miles distant from Pearl Harbor can report the arrival and departure of asteroids of greatly eccentric orbits.\u00a0 p. 84<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Ouch.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The Reasons Why<\/em><\/strong> by Walter Lippmann is (I suspect) a government supplied piece about War bonds, and begins with this:<\/p>\n

The man who understands the war bonds will certainly buy them. For we can either save the money we do not have to spend now in order to live, or we shall lose it. It is one or the other.\u00a0 p. 112<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The man who understands that second sentence without having to think really hard about it will probably read on. After the next two equally difficult to comprehend paragraphs, I didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Wonders of War<\/em><\/strong> details a number of war inventions (e.g. a \u201csafer\u201d grenade, glider torpedoes, etc.) that I\u2019m pretty sure never went anywhere, never mind to war.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Meet This Issue\u2019s Amateur Contest Prize-Winner!<\/em><\/strong> Is a short half-page autobiographical piece from John Foster West (author of Moon Trap<\/em>) and it paints a picture of an enthusiastic and industrious young man destined to become a writer or journalist. However, the article ends with this:<\/p>\n

I am in the U. S. Army Air Corps reserve, and will become a flying cadet upon graduation from Carolina.\u00a0 p. 127<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

West survived the war and went on to become a writer and university professor. He lived to the grand old age of 89.4<\/sup>
\nThe Story Behind the Story: The Invisible Army<\/em><\/strong> by Ross Rocklynne is a couple of hundred words of blather about his microcosmic story.
\nThe Story Behind the Story: Space Command<\/em><\/strong> by Robert Arthur points out (as I should have done in my review) that his story has this to say about the likely evolution of space travel (as seen from the mid-1940s):<\/p>\n

\u201cSpace Command\u201d is a story of trans-planetary rocketing which I have visualized as in the same kind of transition stage as was commercial flying in the middle twenties. Flying passed from an individualistic, daredevil phase into the scientifically coordinated, carefully supervised, business-like medium of transportation it has become.
\nThere is no more room in it for the \u2018seat-of-the-pants\u2019 flyers who flew by guess and by God and called any landing they could walk away from a good landing. Similarly, logic indicates (anyway, my logic indicates, and who\u2019s writing the story, anyway?) that rocketing, after being pioneered by the rough and ready boys who risk their necks cheerfully, will be taken over by the scientifically trained, highly educated men who will turn it into as safe and everyday an affair as possible.
\nThis won\u2019t be too safe and too everyday, space being what it is; nevertheless, the transition will be tough on the pioneers, and there\u2019s bound to be a lot of friction between the representatives of the different orders when the time comes.\u00a0 p. 129<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Well, pee-lots, I\u2019ll conclude this review by saying that this is a poor issue (all the stories bar the Kuttners are awful, and even his aren\u2019t particularly good). It gets a rating of Phooey.5\u00a0 <\/sup>\u25cf<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

1. There is a more positive review of Henry Kuttner\u2019s A God Called Kroo<\/em> by Cora Buhlert at Retro Science Fiction Reviews<\/a>.<\/p>\n

2. Oscar J. Friend is a nominee in this year\u2019s Retro Hugo Awards. The other nominees are John W. Campbell, Jr., Mary Gnaedinger, Dorothy McIlwraith, Raymond A. Palmer, and W. Scott Peacock (I\u2019ve never heard of the latter but I see that I should have\u2014he is the editor of Planet Stories<\/em> and Jungle Stories<\/em>).<\/p>\n

3. Robert Arthur would turn later turn up in F&SF<\/em> with his \u2018Muchinson Morks\u2019 stories. His ISFDB page<\/a>.<\/p>\n

4. There is a John Foster West page on the Internet Archive\u2019s Wayback Machine<\/a> that outlines his writing career. I had a look at his novel Time Was<\/em> on the Internet Archive<\/a> (his writing ability improved markedly) and noticed that someone had defaced the scanned copy by scoring out or overwriting all the swear words. I\u2019ll reserve a particularly spikey seat in Hell for the offender.<\/p>\n

5. I\u2019m sure that Thrilling Wonder Stories<\/em> published some decent stories, but I suspect you probably had to wade through a lot of dross to find them: the next time I read an issue Frog-face better have a few jugs of Xeno ready.\u00a0 \u25cf<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n\"rss\"<\/a>\"rss\"<\/a><\/span>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary: A poor issue with little of note\u2014not even the three Kuttner stories are up to much. But it was nice to get acquainted with Sergeant Saturn in the letters column. [ISFDB page] [Archive.org copy] _____________________ Editor, Oscar J. Friend Fiction: A God Named Kroo \u2022 novella by Henry Kuttner \u2217\u2217 Venusian Nightmare \u2022 short […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[57],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12920","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-thrilling-wonder-stories"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Pcj7-3mo","jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12920","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=12920"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12920\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12973,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12920\/revisions\/12973"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=12920"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=12920"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=12920"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}