Over the Top (February 1930) was published by Street & Smith and features cover art by H. T. Fisk (Harry Thomas Fisk). This is a great issue leading off with military intrigue by veteran writer Frederick C. Painton. The story title is The Spy Ring of Paris. The military intelligence of the United States must work in conjunction with the French and English to track down the mysterious Herr Ex, a German master spy. When a double-agent approaches Captain Kent Rathart of the American counterespionage bureau in fear of his life, he’s willing to supply much needed information is possibly cracking down on Herr Ex’s movements. However, upon returning to his hotel room to await the deal, the man finds a man dressed in a Y.M.C.A. outfit has climbed in through a window and is pointing a gun at him. Surrender the dossier or else. The double agent knows full well he is a dead man and with lightning speed hurls a deadly blade at the man, whom adroitly slips aside. He then shoots the man dead, cleans out his pockets, retains some papers and burns the rest, all the while calmly doing so while he hears approaching, running footsteps. Escaping out the window, his coat snags and rips off a button. A cliche plot device, the button, but Painton seems bent upon using it here. The door is bashed open, the corpse found, and papers burnt to a cinder. Herr Ex has struck again… Another officer is found poisoned after accepting a cigarette from an attractive female Y.M.C.A. person. That officer had been carrying secret submarine codes! The intrigue deepens as Rathart goes on a train to intercept another double agent discovered to have possession of those stolen secret submarine codes. Offering the agent a mass quantity of money to abandon their assignment and open the parcel, this spy punctures his finger on a concealed poisoned needle and rapidly snuffs his life. Thinking back, Rathart realizes he saw two beautiful Y.M.C.A. girls in the same train car, and one fits the description of the girl that stole the codes! Running her description through the files, he comes up with six possible matches, and rapidly narrows it to one possible. A match! And, while American, she’s an actress (again the cliche plot device) who married a Chicago man and changed her German surname! But how is she receiving her information? Somewhere within military intelligence there must be a leak, and Herr Ex has brazenly been operating only since the Americans came to Europe! Captain Rathart determines he must infiltrate the lucky Parisian underworld spy ring, gain their confidence, and ascertain from there how to reach out to Herr Ex. Life becomes complicated when he is offered to prove his worth: assassinate Captain Kent Rathart! He must somehow pull off a false murder, capture the spy ring, and figure out how the Y.M.C.A. girl is connected with Herr Ex. This was a fun Great War novella, with all manner of twists and turns. Sure, it had absurd moments, but this is a work of fiction, and we must suspend some level of plausibility. Did Painton truly write this novella for Over the Top magazine, or was this war novel written during The Great War years and kept in Street & Smith’s files a decade? I say this because S&S did have the habit of sitting on wartime acquired fiction.
Frederick Charles Painton was born 15 July 1895 in Elmira, New York. He registered for the first world war as Frederick Chas. Painton on 5 June 1917 while employed as a chauffeur and as a proofreader for the Elmira Advertiser. He attained the rank of Sergeant with the 196 Aero Squadron as an automobile driver, and was employed with The Stars and Stripes in Paris when the war concluded (this sentence per the Elmira Star-Gazette, 30 November 1918). Working for Reader’s Digest as a war correspondent in Europe, he was transferred to cover the Pacific action. While in the Philippines he became ill and died at a B-29 air base in Guam on 31 March 1945 from a heart attack.
Edward Arthur Dolph returns with another of his silly Sergeant Casey series of stories in Mum’s the Word. Casey is in love with a blonde lass by the Major ensures that Casey can not pursue is amorous intentions. In fact, aged Major has the habit of latching onto young beauties as his own personal conquest. While afloat, a pair of French women board: one older, the other a young lady. One of the soldiers falls in love with her, but the Major inserts himself between the pair and keeps sending the young man away on long assignments. Casey is irritated by this interference and decides to run interference of his own sort.
Because I covered Dolph’s history in the prior Over the Top blog entry, I won’t be repeating it here.
In Apres La Guerre by Bill Morgan, his series involving the Wound Stripe Quartet return with the foursome depressed that they’ve been ill-received by the Parisians. The soldiers on the front enjoy their dancing and singing antics, but Paris civilians scarcely clap. While commiserating they are approached by young lovely American dancer Ann Harkins. She requires a huge favor. Replace her act with theirs, so she may leave the city and see to her wounded lover, Lt. Campbell, who was injured in an airplane crash. The quartet don’t mind helping, but are not disillusioned to their inability to fill seats. She suggests they change and freshen up the act. going so far as to suggest they put on “black face” and sing Negro songs. This seems to be accepted, and they proceed on this basis! The accompanying page’s illustration in fact shows the four in “black face” dancing.
Bill Morgan’s was touched upon in the prior Over the Top blog entry, so I won’t be repeating it here.
Is it true? This may be the case Houston Day’s short story…depending on your accepted version of the truth. Two soldiers are sent into No Man’s Land to investigate the whereabouts of the German’s, when whilst under attack, one turns yellow and abandons the other to his fate. But Fate herself has other plans and a twist of irony up her sleeve. Abandoned and left to die, Harkins is mortified to find himself alone after the loud-mouth Wilson makes a hasty retreat to the American trenches. Harkins remains in a shell-hole, determined to mete out his revenge upon the yellow-spined Wilson. But the Germans advance. Realizing the entrenched Yanks have a battle ahead, he slips out and attaches himself to an abandoned Maxim gun and turns it upon its creator, the Germans. He blows hell out of them and saves many a Yank’s ass. Unfortunately a German unit is sent to annihilate him. Harkins is wounded and passes out, only to return to consciousness when espies a young German he had knocked out earlier, is now upright, arms aloft, approaching. Inviting the German into the shell-hole for self-preservation, Harkins constantly fights slipping away, for fear the German will kill him in his delirium. Harkins learns the man speaks English and they strike up a conversation. He begins again to drift and snaps to, spotting the German reaching for a rifle with a startled expression. Fearing for his life, he rapidly realizes the German isn’t looking at Harkins, but, above him! Wilson is there, and about to drop a grenade upon Harkins! He must kill Harkins lest the unit discover he is yellow and abandoned Harkins. Turns out he claimed he left Harkins dead on the field. Discovering him alive, he must finish the claim or face a court martial. Only the German shoots him dead, saving Harkins and himself from being exploded. Harkins is elated, but elation turns to fear when the soldier turns the rifle upon him, too. Harkins has to do some quick talking to save his skin, and convince him that Wilson was indeed out to silence him, not the German. They are eventually discovered by the captain and forced to explain matters. Harkins realizes that nothing good would come to condemning a dead man, and much to the German lad’s chagrin, explains that Wilson died fighting. Harkins looks to the boy for support, and the German proclaims that All Dead Soldiers Are Heroes.
So, who is Houston Day? Well, he churned out 27 known stories spanning 1929-1937, for which this entry was his fifth published in the pulps. Most appear to be war stories. The name might be abridged for the Texan holiday called “Sam Houston Day.” Copyright film records shows a Houston Day copyrighting Ether Talks late 1931, put out by Van Beuren Corp., of New York. Apparently it was an excellent production, completed in two days, but the censors had a field-day over the visible use of the ether cone, etc.
Cole Richards returns with another interesting short entitled Olive-drab Monkeys. Three men bear the mark of hatred and scorn of Sergeant Kent. They are kept within the regiment and serve at the front, despite their obvious defects. The higher ranking Sergeant Stewart, who Kent despises, outranks him and dismisses Kent’s desire to remove the trio from the line-up. Determined to make his case, he orders Allen and Blake to go to Outpost No. 1, but must cross open territory in a dense fog. Corey is ordered to F Company to prepare to strike at a certain time. The trio realize the orders are impossible, yet they can’t back out.
1. Allen is deaf in one ear. He can’t hear the enemy approach.
2. Blake suffers from bad eyesight. How will he see through the bog?
3. Corey is shell-shocked and stutters. How can he relay the orders?
Realizing they are being set up, they swap orders. Blake with his poor eyesight takes up Corey’s task, while Allen and Corey attempt the suicide run. Unfortunately, Allen and Corey are stuck out in the open in a dense fog. He never hears the German approach but Corey does. The whole mission goes awry but Sergeant Kent knew this in advance. Prepared for the failure, he’s already ready for the German approach. He verbally assaults the men after the conflict, but Sergeant Stewart appears on the scene and defends the troops. And explains why the trio could not possibly carry out the mission. Then he casually asks of Sergeant Kent whether or not he knew of their inabilities! He knows Kent is after his job, and trying to frame him for ineptitude.
Sergeant Stewart proves the men’s worth before a startled Kent. He orders the deaf Allen to shoot a leaf off a remote tree. Allen does so, without taking the time to aim. He’s a dead-shot. He goes on to explain that Blake can bayonet and kill any man at close range. Corey is an all-around solid soldier, save that he stutters.
Sergeant Kent mocks them as being essentially The Three Monkeys: the trio essentially hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil. Kent decides with this fresh information to use their defects against Sergeant Stewart.
Assigned to take a French town full of Germans, the various units go forward and most are annihilated. Sergeant Kent finds himself unharmed and determined to get as far ahead with his unit as possible, and overtake Sergeant Stewart’s unit. His unit is forced to take cover in a derelict building, and a couple other units control neighboring buildings. The highest ranking surviving official is Lieutenant McCoy. They are told to hold the town at all costs, with reinforcements slated to arrive sometime later. He combines the units and Sergeant Kent is surprised to find among the buildings Sergeant Stewart and the three monkeys. But, how to use them? An opportunity arises when McCoy realizes they are being killed off one-by-one and issues the command to retreat. A German spots him in an open window and blows him away. Stewart walks in dazedly and utters “It’s all up,” being the same words McCoy had issued before dying. Seeing McCoy dead, he realizes he’s now in command, and that means he can dismiss McCoy’s order to retreat. Kent takes advantage of Stewart’s “It’s all up” statement and immediately loudly proclaims that they were given the order to hold the town to hell and if Stewart wants to quit, he’ll take command. Sergeant Stewart asserts control and command, firmly states they remain. And stay they do…. Next day, Sergeant Stewart is brought before the colonel for a court martial. Sergeant Kent has filed that Sergeant Stewart intended to abandon position against orders, and brought with him three men as witnesses that were in the room when he proclaimed “It’s all up.” The three monkeys, Allen, Blake, and Corey! Sergeant Stewart’s heart drops. They are solid soldiers. They won’t lie. And lie they do not! Allen asserts he had his bad ear turned into the building and never heard any words issue from his sergeant’s mouth! Blake explains his blindness and that he couldn’t see the sergeant in the room. That leaves Corey, who stammers and stutters through his explanation in several attempts. The colonel is not amused and doesn’t have the time for Corey’s stuttering statement. Two out of three is good enough for him. He frees Sergeant Stewart and orders Sergeant Kent back to the training area, where perhaps he’ll serve his nation better, than being a dangerous man in action.
Whisky Johnny by Robert Carse takes place somewhere in the Arabian regions, initially in a town called Jain Saffra. John Simpson, alias “Whisky Johnny”, is asleep on the cobbled streets and likely somewhat drunk. An older seafaring man stuck ashore, he’s sleeping off drunkenness when he partially hears running feet, a thrown dagger bounce off stone, a shot fired. He comes fully awake, climbs to his feet, and heads toward the approaching sounds of flight. A man comes into view and trips over a pile of crap on the street. His gun flies from his hand. He lands hard and Simpson hears an English expletive. John Simpson picks up the gun and calmly empties it into the trio of approaching Arabs. Thus forms an immediate friendship, and the pair make haste. We learn the English speaker is a British operative, and that America joined the war scarcely a month ago. Simpson was unaware of the declaration, and readily joins Simpson’s mission. In fact, he’s joining forces with British operative Colonel Darcot, assigned to dynamite various strongholds, etc. Turns out Simpson is an expert with dynamite placement. Darcot was in the city trying to illegally obtain explosives when his cover was blown, forcing him to run. The entire story is idiotic but fun fiction full of Simpson setting dynamite upon railroad lines and such. His desire for alcohol gets the better of him and he lives up to his namesake, which nearly gets him killed. Idiotically, he survives and proclaims his love for the war.
This was my first time reading Robert Carse, while it was a fun tongue-in-cheek war story, he didn’t leave me wanting to read more of his works based on this one entry. I won’t hold it against him. But, did Robert Carse serve during The Great War? Doubtful. He was born 1902 in Riverdale (the Bronx) New York, and died at East Hampton on Long Island, New York, in 1971. America entered the war in 1918. You do the math. We do know that he was enlisted in the Merchant Marine at age 17 and shipped out for two years (circa 1919-1921). He churned out tons of stories from 1925 to 1966. He would later serve during World War Two. But the main point is, he did not serve in The Great War, this magazine’s main claim that their writers all had 1917-1918 experience. Still, his life experiences would serve him well writing fiction, spanning four decades. Quite a lifetime achievement.
The last entry is The Testing of Sergeant O’Hare by Owen Atkinson. Captain Crowley is lame with a bullet-wound injury after having attempting to bring in Paris gangster Le Fevre on charges of stealing government supplies. He orders fresh-from-the-battlefields new arrival Sergeant O’Hare to return with Le Fevre and prove that he and his henchmen stole government sugar, etc. Sergeant Kelly, an experienced man of several months, is assigned to accompany and assist. They make their way to a disreputable part of Paris, walk in a shabby drinking establishment, demand to see Le Fevre. Kelly thinks O’Hare’s direct approach is insane. After all, that’s how Crowley got his leg wound! Le Fevre makes his appearance, and has the pair knocked down, O’Hare’s gun confiscated, and the pair bodily thrown into the street. The front door is barred. O’Hare is now no longer the soft-faced, good-humored man he appears. Suddenly he takes gruff charge, and with Kelly, go around back through the alleys and find the establishment’s rear entrance. O’Hare orders Kelly to remain outside and go for help should he hear O’Hare having trouble. O’Hare sneaks in under the cover of darkness, for the interior is not lit. His presence is soon known, and he finds himself in the fight of his life, first assaulted by Le Fevre. Retrieving his gun, he shoots down two assailants and fights off others. Clearly outnumbered and losing bodily function from being wounded, he’s alert to discover Sergeant Kelly in the room, a short club in his hand dripping with blood, and a blackening eye. Behind him comes a couple M.P.s and…the wounded colonel. That latter is nonplussed why Sergeant O’Hare didn’t call for backup. O’Hare states he was only following orders, after all, did not the colonel state this was a test, and to bring in Le Fevre if he found evidence. Bring back Le Fevre or don’t come back were the direct orders. O’Hare took them literally.
Now, as a sidenote, O’Hare does surface in at least one further short story. I wonder if O’Hare appears in any other issues of this magazine…
In case you missed my last entry, check out the prior Over the Top blog entry to read about Owen Atkinson.