"Suicide Patrol" -- George Surdez (ADVENTURE, August 1934)

George Surdez is perhaps best remembered as the man who invented "Russian Roulette."  The term first appeared in an eponymous story written by Surdez and published in Colliers' magazine in 1937, though Surdez describes a much deadlier version in which only one chamber is left empty before spinning the cylinder.  However, Surdez was also a prolific pulp writer in general, having published more than a hundred stories in Adventure magazine alone, many of them stories of the French Foreign Legion, such as today's story.  A longer one, this one actually took me two nights to read but I was too tired to do any writing last night, so here we are talking about it all in one go.

Legionnaire James "Jacques" Carroll of Fourth Company, stationed at Kasbah-Tadla, has a problem.  Well, two of them.  Two recent American recruits, Dacorda and Zerlich, seemingly

Cover courtesy Galactic Central

offer nothing but trouble.  Dacorda is quick to anger and prone to starting brawls, while Zerlich, an older man, is clearly not cut out for the Legion life.  During an engagement with an aggressive local tribe, Dacorda takes a tumble into a ravine, and Zerlich is first in after him -- not to rescue him, but to rifle through his belongings as he lies unconscious and bleeding, much to Carroll's consternation.

To make matters worse, during a barroom brawl Dacorda's rosary (referred to in the text as a scapular, though the description given is clearly of a rosary) is stolen, and Zerlich persuades Dacorda that Carroll is to blame.  Carroll, doing a little investigating, manages to retrieve the rosary and finds the identity of the thief -- Zerlich himself? What's going on here?

Somehow, the viewpoint character is the blandest of the bunch here.  Everyone else, it seems, has personality and quirks and things to make them interesting, while Carroll is just a joe schmoe everyman and it doesn't work for me.  Even characters who only get a couple paragraphs of "screen-time" feel more fleshed out and real then Carroll does.

The relationship between Dacorda and Zerlich is nuanced and fascinating, especially once Zerlich's secrets are revealed.  In some ways Dacorda comes across as the better man - as quick as he is to anger, he's quicker to forgive and holds no ill will against Zerlich for acting against him.  In a moment of seemingly-uncharacteristic wisdom, Dacorda explains that after what they've gone through during their short time in the Legion...it changes people, and changes their perspective and what they hold as valuable.

"The Soul of a Regiment" -- Talbot Mundy (ADVENTURE, February 1912)

Well, readers, this will be my last post until Sunday night.  Tomorrow afternoon my girlfriend's flying into town and I'll be too busy celebrating our anniversary to do much blogging.  But we'll see; she's always been very supportive of my writing and in the past has been more than happy to relax and watch Parks and Rec or nature documentaries while I write.  As is, I'm sure I'll still be reading in the evenings; it remains to be seen whether I'll get ahead on The Big Book of Adventure Stories or pick up something else to read for the weekend, something longer, so I can cover all my reading for the weekend in a single blog post.  I did pick up Geoffrey Household's novel Rogue Male recently, as well as a reprint of The Maltese Falcon.  I've got some Burroughs and E.E. "Doc" Smith on my Kindle as well.  However, speaking of The Big Book of Adventure Stories, we should address today's story.  Talbot Mundy (real name William Lancaster Gribbon; 1879-1940) was an English con-man turned upright citizen after moving to America and being "nearly killed in a mugging"; he turned to writing in 1911, selling his first story, the non-fictional "Pig-Sticking in India" and soon becoming a major contributor to Adventure Magazine and Argosy, creating such iconic stories as King of the Khyber Rifles and the adventures of James "Jimgrim" Grim; today's story, "The Soul of a Regiment," originally appeared in the February 1912 issue of Adventure and can be read here.

Sergeant-Major Billy Grogram has his work cut out for him; he could have retired on a nice pension, but out of familial obligation, he opted to continue his career with the British Army in North Africa, and found himself tasked with training the First Egyptian Foot in the ways of being soldiers of the Crown.  His commanding officers are doubtful, even dismissive of whether such a feat can be performed, but expect Grogram to do it anyways.

And Grogram does his duty and does it well; he trains his men to salute and to march in step, to follow orders and present arms.  He buys fifes and drums and trains them in their use, the better to march to.  And he teaches them about the Colours -- the regimental flag under which they will march, representative of their regiment's honor -- and why they must be revered and treated as sacred by the men who fight under them.

The First Egyptian Foot disappear in the chaos that was the Seige of Khartoum, and are assumed to have died to a man in the fighting.  But rumors persist of a strange white man followed by a group of native musicians, slowly making his way north...

That might be the most spine-straighteningly British thing I've ever read.  I'd mentioned previously, in my post on "The Man Who Would Be King," that I'm fascinated and fond of the Victorian Era; I feel like with this story, Mundy made Kipling look like a slouching American.  Grogram's extreme devotion to duty seems almost parodic -- comparable to Frederic's dedication to duty in The Pirates of Penzance -- as, starving and beaten, he escapes slavery and struggles and begs his way north to lead his regiment (what's left of it) back to British territory, but you know what? It's goddamn bracing, especially the final burst of the story in which every deprivation stamped or carved into Grogram's body by his ordeals is carefully delineated and the reader allowed to wonder over what sufferings he must have endured that we aren't told about.

"Peace Waits at Marokee" -- H. Bedford-Jones (ADVENTURE, November 1940)

I hope you'll forgive me, readers (or reader, as the case may be), if I break from my self-appointed schedule of one post per day for a bit; I'm working eleven days straight this week, long hours, to complete a special project at work, and I'm currently eight days in without a break.  This will be followed by a three-day weekend during which time I'll be with my girlfriend, and as such won't be spending much time on the computer.  That being said, today's story is from the pen of H. Bedford-Jones, often called the "King of the Pulps" for his prolific output -- somewhere in the vicinity of 1400 short stories and 80 novels, but who's counting? Set during the Second World War in North Africa, "Peace Waits at Marokee" was originally published in Adventure magazine in November 1940 before being reprinted here, in The Big Book of Adventure Stories.

By some small miracle, gunner Jean Facini escaped death in a fiery plane crash, guiding the plane in to a blind landing, managing to extricate himself from the plane before it burst into flames.  As he watches it burn, another plane - an English bomber - comes to a crashing halt nearby.  Three men tumble out, and introductions are simple: ANZAC pilot Jock Erne, reserved photographer Lance, and Cockney gunner Hawkins.

Bandaging their wounds, the four men decide to set out for the English outpost at Marokee; three days' hike across the burning desert sands, but it's their one hope for survival.  However, what the three Brits don't know is that Facini is a Fifth Columnist; while technically a Frenchman, he's Savoyard French, and would like nothing better for the Savoy to be returned to Italian control.  And he knows that Marokee was taken in a surprise attack by the Italians two days ago...

I don't have a huge amount to say here; not because the story's not good or not interesting (it is, in fact, absolutely gripping) but because I'm not familiar enough with spy fiction during this period to comment knowledgeably about its place in that lineage.

And arguably, while ostensibly a spy story and a war story, there's little emphasis placed on Facini's Fifth Column activities or the war itself; it's a story about men from two sides of a conflict (albeit unbeknownst to most of them that this is the case) forced to put aside their differences and work together against a common enemy - in this case, the desert with all its hazards; heat, dehydration, sunstroke, scorpions, jagged rocks...

Facini is our viewpoint character, and rather than being simply a two-dimensional sneering villain, he's shown to be a relatively complex character that ultimately garners our sympathy and even admiration.  We're given enough to get an idea of what led him to side with the Fascists - dissatisfaction with French rule of his province and a desire, most likely fueled by nostalgia - not his own, as he's depicted as too young a man to remember a time before French possession of Savoy, but perhaps based on wistful reminisces of older family members as well, perhaps, as an idealized unified Italian state as envisioned by Garibaldi at the same time as the French annexation.

Given his output, I'm sure I'll be seeing a lot more from H. Bedford-Jones to come in writing this blog.  I'm looking forward to it.

"The Mighty Manslayer" -- Harold Lamb (ADVENTURE, October 15, 1918) PART 2

As promised, here we are with the second half of my write-up of Harold Lamb's novelette "The Mighty Manslayer," a saga of adventure in Central Asia in the 16th Century.

Diving right in from where we left off yesterday, Khlit the Cossack, Mir Turek the duplicitous merchant and the young girl Kerula have been taken captive by the Chinese army besieging the Tatar city of Altur Haiten, under the command of General Hang-Hi.

Brought before Hang-Hi and his advisers, Mir Turek falls to his knees, babbling about recognizing the significance of Khlit's sword and the esteem he could curry by bringing Khlit to Hang-Hi and the Mandarins of China.  And no, I'm not going to tell you, readers, the significance of the sword -- far be it from me to spoil the thrill of discovery you will have from reading the tale for yourselves! What Mir Turek doesn't mention is the discovery of Ghengis Khan's tomb, though Fogan Ultai, not a captive but an honored guest of the general's, is more than happy to tell that story to Hang-Hi and his assembled staff.  Mir Turek is crippled, Khlit is made a slave building earthworks for the Chinese assault on Altur Haiten, and Kerula is made part of Hang-Hi's household staff.

Secretly reclaiming his sword, Khlit is press-ganged into service leading Fogan Ultai and several of Hang-Hi's most trusted advisers to the tomb of Ghengis Khan.  Managing to avoid the wafting poisonous fumes himself, Khlit quickly regains his freedom and opts to use it in support of his Tatar brethren.  Sneaking back through Chinese lines, he infiltrates the city and lays out a plan to the khans of the Tatars...

Nope! That's all the synopsis you get! You want to know where the story goes from there, pick up the book and read it for yourself! I mean it, most of his books are pretty nicely priced on Amazon and many have Kindle editions as well.  And I'm not getting any sort of kickback from Amazon for doing this (though I probably should set something up where if you buy stuff through links I post I get Amazon credit), I'm endorsing these books because I'm so thoroughly impressed by "The Mighty Manslayer" and think Lamb's work deserves to be read more widely.

A word of warning to readers with more modern sensibilities; Lamb's descriptions of the Chinese generals is politically incorrect, to say the least.  With phrases like "behind the slant eyes lurked the cruelty of a conquering race" and advisers making suggestions regarding pouring molten silver into a captive's ears to convince him to talk, it's a reminder that at the time this was written, the notion of a "Yellow Peril," in which Asians by their very existence threatened expansion and conquest, was still very much part of the cultural zeitgeist.  However, it's worth noting that at the same time, Khlit is of Asiatic descent and is clearly the hero of the story, and many of Lamb's heroes are Chinese, Indian, Mongol or Muslim.  That the villains of "The Mighty Manslayer" are Chinese does not mean that the author was unequivocally racist towards the Chinese.

The conclusion of the story presents an aspect of Khlit that I personally really enjoyed, his self-effacing nature.  Though highly-skilled and intelligent, Khlit is a humble man at heart and despite learning some pretty earth-shattering things, seeing some incredible sights and taking part in what is, by his own admission, the most amazing battle of his life, at the end of the story he resumes simply being plain old Khlit, wandering across the steppes with his sword at his side and his pipe in his teeth, waiting to see where life takes him next.

"The Mighty Manslayer" -- Harold Lamb (ADVENTURE, October 15, 1918) PART 1

Yes, Part 1.  Harold Lamb's "The Mighty Manslayer" is a longer story than "The Golden Snare" or "The Devil in Iron," and I didn't have the opportunity to read through the entire tale last night.  I'd like to do a post on BPaLGM every day, and so I've decided to break this story into two posts; later on, when I get a few novels in (for example,The Big Book of Adventure Stories concludes with the complete novel Tarzan the Terrible), depending on how much free time my day-job leaves me I may be reviewing it chapter by chapter.  Following a foray into swords and sorcery with "The Devil in Iron," we're back into strictly historical fiction today -- better known for his nonfiction, especially the biography Ghengis Khan: The Emperor of All Men and The Crusades, Harold Lamb also dabbled in fiction based on his research, with characters of his own creation interacting against a background of historical fact, most notably, Khlit the Cossack, whom we'll meet today.  Lamb also became a screenwriter at the behest of Cecil B. DeMille, who initially hired Lamb as a technical consultant when DeMille decided to adapt The Crusades for the silver screen.

"The Mighty Manslayer" (Adventure magazine, October 15, 1918, later reprinted in The Curved Saber, one of two Khlit collections published in 1969) follows Khlit, an aging ex-Cossack of the 16th Century who took off as an independent adventurer when faced with the prospect of a Cossack retirement, as he enters the city of Samarkand.  A pair of elephant statuettes catch his eye in the stall of the merchant Mir Turek, who is not interested in selling them - though he is very interested in Khlit's saber (unraveling the mystery of the saber is a subplot that is resolved over the course of Lamb's saga of Khlit) and offers Khlit a deal: Khlit can have the two elephants as a gesture of good faith if he will agree to escort Mir Turek and his entourage through the mountains of Central Asia and the Gobi Desert to the city of Karakorum.

Khlit is suspicious but agrees, in the process buying and freeing a young slave girl named Kerula whom Mir Turek has been abusing.  Along the way, Khlit's suspicions regarding Mir Turek and his primary henchman, Fogan Ultai, grow, especially once they welcome a gylong (a term, now out of date I think, referring to a priest or lama, though Lamb uses it in a way that seems to imply that Mir Turek and Fogan Ultain view the gylong as having some degree of knowledge or proficiency with black magic as well) into the party and have him start menacing Kerula (who has tagged along, having nowhere else to go).

Ultimately, Khlit discovers that the true purpose of Mir Turek's expedition is to find the lost tomb of Ghengis Khan and loot it of the gold and jewels contained therein.  Upon discovering the tomb, however, Khlit and Mir Turek are set upon by the Onon Muren -- the ghosts of the Great Khan's followers, sacrificed to ensure the secrecy of his burial's location -- and driven away.  Lamb makes it pretty clear here that toxic, possibly volcanic, vapors are leaching up through the ground here, and the characters are interpreting the beginnings of suffocation they're experiencing as being strangled by ghosts.

The expedition largely a bust, food supplies low and Kerula running a fever, it's suggested that the group make contact with the Tatar city of Altur Haiten to replenish their supplies and buy medicine for Kerula.  The city is currently in the midst of a siege by Chinese forces, but Fogan Ultai is adamant he can lead them through and into the city.  Khlit, worried for Kerula's safety, has no choice but to agree.  He has no idea he's being led into a trap until he's clubbed across the back of his neck, born down to the ground and a sack thrown over his head.

Hot damn, this is some good stuff! Lamb's complete Cossack adventures (totaling around 40 loosely-linked novelettes) were reprinted in a four-volume set in 2009, available on Amazon in paperback or for the Kindle -- I just threw them into my Wish List with plans to get them for my Kindle sometime in the next few weeks, paychecks permitting, because his prose is every bit as engrossing as Howard's, his characters are rich and believable, and the overall atmosphere is evocative and brings 16th Century Central Asia to life in vivid detail.

I was kind of surprised that Khlit was so easily led into the ambush at the end of what I'd read last night.  He'd been so suspicious of Mir Turek and Fogan Ultai for so long -- literally, months within the context of the story -- and then to follow Fogan Ultai, a conniving, sneaky bastard from the start, without a care in the world into a Chinese war camp.

Looking forward to reading the rest of the story tonight!

"The Golden Snare" -- Farnham Bishop and Arthur Gilchrist Brodeur (ADVENTURE, April 18, 1918)

A while back I picked up a big, luxurious collected volume of adventure stories, fittingly titled The Big Book of Adventure Stories, edited by Otto Penzler and published by Random House under their "Vintage Crime/Black Lizard" imprint.  It looked like it would be a good read, the cover illustration by Rafael DeSoto had topless Hawaiian women menacing a couple of white sailors (how'd they get those panthers to Hawaii?) and the price was right - plus, I'd previously read The Black Lizard Big Book of Pulps, similarly edited by Penzler and published under the Vintage Crime/Black Lizard imprint when my father bought it a couple years back, and enjoyed that book immensely.

Since I'm not really 100% sure what I intend to do with this blog, I figured a good start would be just going through this book, re-reading the stories contained therein, and talking about them.  While a number of the stories in this book are from before the "Pulp Era" is generally reckoned, I figure "Pulp" is as much an attitude as it is a cheap grade of paper.  If a story from 1880 or from 1980 has the right swaggering moxie to it, I'm willing to reckon it as Pulp.

The first story in the book is "The Golden Snare," by Farnham Bishop and Arthur Gilchrist Brodeur, originally published in the April 18th, 1918 issue of Adventure magazine.  Bishop was best known for writing non-fiction books on the Mexican-American War and the development of the submarine, but in conjunction with Brodeur, a professor at Berkeley, he penned The Altar of the Legion, a novel set in Roman Britain, as well as a series of stories about Lady Fulvia, a young noblewoman at the time of the Second Crusade.  Her father, Count Arnulfo, rules the city of Rocca Forte in Sicily and her hand in marriage is highly sought-after.

In "The Golden Snare," Fulvia is aboard a galley returning to Rocca Forte following a successful pilgrimage to the shrine of Santa Lucia di Celsi.  At dawn, Fulvia's ship is rammed and sunk by another ship; much to her outrage, as the coast was to be patrolled by her father's vassals while he was fighting in the Crusades.  Thrown clear of the sinking ship, Fulvia swiftly realizes that these pirates are in fact two of her father's vassals and their supporters.

Unsure whether the two traitors intend to take her hostage to force concessions from her father or to force her to choose one of them to marry, Fulvia swims to shore and takes refuge as best she can while she considers her options.  Naked, alone and unarmed, she has nothing but her wits with which to protect her virtue and her father's sovereignty.

I haven't read too much strictly-historical pulp fiction, and most of what I've read in that subgenre has been the work of Robert E. Howard.  While "The Golden Snare" lacks some of Howard's trademark blood and thunder, it's no slouch either.  There's a sequence in which Fulvia lures one of her pursuers into a trap and drowns him that gets the pulse pounding.

More interestingly, Lady Fulvia is an early example of a female protagonist in the Pulps, and as such she's a clear predecessor to the likes of Jirel of Joiry and Red Sonya of Rogatino.  Given how manly-man macho the pulps generally were, it's really interesting to see these really powerful, independent female figures who not only don't need a man to save them from peril, but openly dismisses the role of Holly Homemaker to go her own way.  In a time when women didn't even have the vote yet, women like Fulvia, Jirel and Sonya are beyond astonishing.