DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Sun Spots, v. 4, issue 1, whole no. 13, December 1940

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Sun Spots, v. 4, issue 1, whole no. 13, December 1940

Page 5

December, 1940.   SUN  SPOTS   Page 5.

"[[underline]]THEY'RE OFF[[end underline]]!"
by
Gerry de la Ree, Jr.

"They're off", roared the crowd. As President Johnson's arm rose in a farewell salute, two gleaming ships left the ground; one a super-powered strato-plane; the other a strange, shining torpedo-like ship---a rocket. The constant humming of the strato-planes' motors were drowned out by the roaring cherry-red blasts that issued from the rear of the rocket.

A short stubby man in the back ground yelled wildly, waving above his head a New York tabloid news paper that he had evidently brought out from the city with him. The paper blared forth in large bold-face type: BIG TEST AT EASTON,J.J.---TWO SHIPS TAKE OFF AT 5:00 PM SHARP---PRESIDENT JOHNSON TO ATTEND........

"My money's on the "Silver Streak","rasped the stubby fellow with the paper,"That blasted rocket will more ' an likly blow up in mid-Atlantic!"
"I disagree", came the voice of a thin, pale-faced young man standing near the other.
"Yer crazy", exclaimed the little man.
"Perhaps, perhaps,"returned the thin fellow, an wan smile creasing his pale features,"But--".
A voice in the back ground calling:"John,John", stopped the fellow before he could finish. "You must pardon me," he said bowing slightly. He turned abruptly and dissappeared into the crowd.
"He's nuts" muttered the stubby little man, a perplexed expression on his red face.
* * * * * * *

"We're off", grunted tall, red-headed Bob Bronson, as he was pushed far back into his heavily cushioned seat in the control-room of the Strato-rocket 'Gordy'. A second later Bronson leveled off the ship, and setting the robot-pilot, turned to his friend and companion, Pug McGovern.

Pug was middle-aged, ex-heaviweight challenger of the passed Joe Louis era. His battle-scared face belied his profession. Pug was about 5'11", a few inches smaller than Bronson, barrel-chested ,with a slight stoop; the latter aquired from his unorthodox fighting style. His cauliflowered ears, flattened nose, puffed eyes, and short thickly croped brown hair completed the picture. Bob Bronson, his handsome face wreathed in smiles spoke to his companion:
"Well, we got off the ground,Pug---thats more than a lot of people thought we'd do."
"Yeah" muttered the ex-fighter,"But dat don't mean we're gonna win does it?"
"Why Pug", grinned Bronson,"Where did you ever get that defeatist attitude? Why we have the fastest ship ever built, and one of the best engineers in the world tending the rockets."
:"Yeah", muttered Pug,for the second time,"Sure I know dat dis here Larrney's a good egg, but I read in de ewspapers where dis rocket ain't no more safe than a keg of dinamite!"

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December, 1940. SUN SPOTS Page 5. "[[underline]]THEY'RE OFF[[end underline]]!" by Gerry de la Ree, Jr. "They're off", roared the crowd. As President Johnson's arm rose in a farewell salute, two gleaming ships left the ground; one a super-powered strato-plane; the other a strange, shining torpedo-like ship---a rocket. The constant humming of the strato-planes' motors were drowned out by the roaring cherry-red blasts that issued from the rear of the rocket. A short stubby man in the back ground yelled wildly, waving above his head a New York tabloid news paper that he had evidently brought out from the city with him. The paper blared forth in large bold-face type: BIG TEST AT EASTON,J.J.---TWO SHIPS TAKE OFF AT 5:00 PM SHARP---PRESIDENT JOHNSON TO ATTEND........ "My money's on the "Silver Streak","rasped the stubby fellow with the paper,"That blasted rocket will more ' an likly blow up in mid-Atlantic!" "I disagree", came the voice of a thin, pale-faced young man standing near the other. "Yer crazy", exclaimed the little man. "Perhaps, perhaps,"returned the thin fellow, an wan smile creasing his pale features,"But--". A voice in the back ground calling:"John,John", stopped the fellow before he could finish. "You must pardon me," he said bowing slightly. He turned abruptly and dissappeared into the crowd. "He's nuts" muttered the stubby little man, a perplexed expression on his red face. * * * * * * * "We're off", grunted tall, red-headed Bob Bronson, as he was pushed far back into his heavily cushioned seat in the control-room of the Strato-rocket 'Gordy'. A second later Bronson leveled off the ship, and setting the robot-pilot, turned to his friend and companion, Pug McGovern. Pug was middle-aged, ex-heaviweight challenger of the passed Joe Louis era. His battle-scared face belied his profession. Pug was about 5'11", a few inches smaller than Bronson, barrel-chested ,with a slight stoop; the latter aquired from his unorthodox fighting style. His cauliflowered ears, flattened nose, puffed eyes, and short thickly croped brown hair completed the picture. Bob Bronson, his handsome face wreathed in smiles spoke to his companion: "Well, we got off the ground,Pug---thats more than a lot of people thought we'd do." "Yeah" muttered the ex-fighter,"But dat don't mean we're gonna win does it?" "Why Pug", grinned Bronson,"Where did you ever get that defeatist attitude? Why we have the fastest ship ever built, and one of the best engineers in the world tending the rockets." :"Yeah", muttered Pug,for the second time,"Sure I know dat dis here Larrney's a good egg, but I read in de ewspapers where dis rocket ain't no more safe than a keg of dinamite!"