Category:
1940s
Before the atomic bomb, other "super bombs" were dreamed up and invented. One of the more notorious was Lester Barlow's Glmite Bomb. Barlow claimed it could kill everything within a 1000-yard radius, but when the U.S. military tested it in 1940, exploding it in a field surrounded by goats, it failed to kill, or even injure, a single goat.
Glmite also has to be one of the worst names ever for an explosive. It was created by combining the words 'Glenn' and 'Dynamite'.
More details from
The Ordnance Department: Procurement and Supply, by Harry Thomson and Lida Mayo —
Mr. Lester P. Barlow, an employee of the Glenn L. Martin aircraft factory, submitted to the Senate Committee on Military Affairs a bomb filled with liquid oxygen. Called "glmite" in honor of Mr. Martin, the explosive was said to give off violent vibrations of the air waves that would kill every living thing within a radius of a thousand yards. Senator Gerald P. Nye was so impressed that he called in reporters to watch while minutes of the committee meeting were burned—"so great was the military secrecy of the subject!... an explosive so deadly it might even outlaw war!!!"
Tests of the Barlow bomb took up a good deal of the time of Ordnance planners in April and May, extending down into the most anxious weeks in May. When the newspapers announced that goats would be tethered at varying distances from the bomb to determine its lethal effects, Congress and the War Department were deluged with letters of protest from humane societies and private citizens. All the concern turned out to be wasted. At the first test, the bomb leaked and did not go off; at the second, held at Aberdeen Proving Ground in late May, the explosion occurred, but the goats, unharmed, continued to nibble the Maryland grass.
Barlow supervising the set up of the Glmite Bomb.
The Algone Upper Des Moines - June 18, 1940
Explosion of the Glmite Bomb at Aberdeen Proving Ground
Note the goats in the right foreground, unharmed
The horrifying Hotpoint Corporate Spokesbeing, with a giant Hotpoint logo wedged into its brain, appears to a mother and child.
Source.
Richard Burgess's 1941 patent (
No. 2,244,444) describes a pair of feathered wings that could be attached to the arms of an individual, who would then flap the wings up and down. This, claimed Burgess, would create a sense of buoyancy, while simultaneously providing physical exercise. In particular, it would "develop the chest, back, arm and leg muscles, while also tending to create accelerated breathing and thus general physical tone." It would do all this, he said, while also being "very diverting and accordingly attractive."
How did this product never take off?
LUX Soap's 1942 ad campaign warned of the danger of talking underwear.
Some analysis by Melissa McEuen in
Making War, Making Women: Femininity and Duty on the American Home Front:
Exerting personal control over one's own laundry could be empowering, LUX ads suggested to female audiences. Women would have to wage a tough fight against their underclothes, which seemed to take on lives of their own in [J. Walter Thompson Company's] wartime advertising. Animated lingerie starred in LUX ad copy in the early 1940s. Flying, chattering bras, slips, camisoles, and girdles claimed to harbor their owners' unpleasant secrets. In some promotions the sneaky garments threatened to release this information, while in other ads, they expressed pity for the oblivious young women who wore them. In one group of ads featuring the wily articles, a headline announced, "UNDIES ARE GOSSIPS!"…
The "Undies Are Gossips" campaign radiated a core message familiar to Americans early in the war: the power of talk. U.S. government propaganda connected conversations with death and destruction for U.S. troops: "Somebody blabbed — button your lip!" and "A Careless Word… A Needless Sinking" warned viewers to check their conversations. One resonant quip suggested "Loose Lips Might Sink Ships."
Spokesman Review - Mar 1, 1942
Philadelphia Inquirer - July 19, 1942
Source of ad.
The Wikipedia entries for
Shredded Wheat and
Shreddies fail to explain the overlapping existence of two identical cereals from the originator, Nabisco. Much investigation needs to be done. Was one more for the Canadian market?
Science-fiction author Cleve Cartmill is best known for his short story "Deadline," which appeared in the March 1944 issue of
Astounding Science Fiction. The story isn't famous because it's a good story. Cartmill himself described it as a "stinker." It's famous because it contained specific details about how to make an atomic bomb — details which Cartmill somehow knew over a year before the existence of the bomb had been revealed by the U.S. government.
When Military Intelligence learned about the story they freaked out, fearing a security breach, and launched an investigation. They questioned Cartmill, as well as
Astounding editor John W. Campbell. But eventually they concluded that Cartmill had gained his info, as he insisted, from publicly available sources.
However, the rumor is that Military Intelligence bought up as many copies of that issue of the magazine as they could, to prevent its dissemination. Which makes that issue quite valuable. For instance, at
Burnside Rare Books it's going for $400.
But if you simply want to read the issue (and Cartmill's story),
you can do that at archive.org for free.
More info:
lynceans.org,
Wikipedia.
John L. Johnson of Pinehurst, Washington obtained a patent for his "camera support" in 1945.
Patent No. 2,369,829. The support provided a way to conceal a camera inside a hat.
I wonder if the patent illustration was a self-portrait.
In the year 1945, a dog named Blaze, while being shipped on Army Transport planes, bumped off several traveling soldiers, causing a national controversy.
Read about it here.
A funnier account was composed by James Thurber, viewable after the jump.
More in extended >>
Published in 1947, THE NATURAL HISTORY OF NONSENSE remains as relevant today as ever.
Read the whole volume here.
Some notion of its contents and approach seen below.