“HAW-W-W-W-W!” That sound can only mean one thing—that Bachelor of Artifice, Knight of Calamity and an alumnus of Doctor Merlin’s Camelot College for Conjurors is back to vex not only the Germans, but the Americans—the Ninth Pursuit Squadron in particular—as well. Yes it’s the marvel from Boonetown, Iowa himself—Lieutenant Phineas Pinkham!

This is a story of high finance as well as high flying. It never would have been written if a couple of Yankee doughs had not found a cache of Jerry marks in a deserted abri near Vaubecourt.

You see, a year before Uncle Sam peeled off his coat and spat on his hands to take a poke at Kaiser Bill, the Frog poilus had chased the Heinies out of the aforementioned Frog hamlet. And the Jerry brass hats, evidently very hard pressed, were satisfied to escape with even their skivvies. They left behind them a Boche paymaster and payroll buried in a mass of debris.

The doughs who stumbled over this treasure left the Heinie paymaster where they found him—because he was no longer fit for circulation—but the marks, having escaped the blast of shells, soon began to circulate throughout France; and thereupon reports hit Chaumont to the effect that a flock of Yanks, the majority of whom had failed to pass an intelligence test, had purchased the Kraut legal tender at various places and had paid for it with honest-to-goodness French and American currency.

From the November 1937 Flying Aces, it’s Phineas Pinkham in “Crash on Delivery!”

“Gimme this an’ gimme that!” Yes, it seemed that everybody in the sector had the “gimme’s.” Jacques le Bouillon wanted marks, a slew of tough doughs wanted francs, Hauptmann von Katzenjammer wanted his pay, and Colonel McWhinney wanted satisfaction. Outside of that, everything was peaceful—except that the M.P.’s wanted Phineas!

• Download “Crash on Delivery” (November 1937, Flying Aces)

THIS week we present another cover by Colcord Heurlin! Heurlin worked in the pulps primarily over a ten year period from 1923 to 1933. His work appeared on Adventure, Aces, Complete Stories, Everybody’s Combined with Romance, North-West Stories, The Popular, Short Stories, Sky Birds, Sea Stories, Top-Notch, War Stories, Western Story, and here, the cover of the September 1931 Flying Aces!

The High Sign

SURRENDER in the air! It often happened when some one got the breaks. And often it was planned for when the Allies wanted a special type of German machine.
On the occasion depicted on our cover this month, a German two-seater of new design has had its prop shattered and its crew is helpless over Allied territory. It would have been easy for the man in the Allied scout plane to shoot them down, but he preferred to take them whole.
He signaled to the enemy airmen to land and the observer indicated that he had seen, by holding his hands high and well away from his gun. The rest was easy—a complete German ship to study and a clear confirmation for the victorious pilot.
This cover is a reproduction of an actual incident. A photograph owned by one of our authors will confirm it.

“The High Sign”
Flying Aces, September 1931 by Colcord Heurlin

THIS week we present a cover by Colcord Heurlin! Heurlin worked in the pulps primarily over a ten year period from 1923 to 1933. His work appeared on Adventure, Aces, Complete Stories, Everybody’s Combined with Romance, North-West Stories, The Popular, Short Stories, Sky Birds, Sea Stories, Top-Notch, War Stories, Western Story, and here, the cover of the August 1931 Flying Aces!

His Last Salute

THE chivalry of the clouds—the code that persisted even in moments of grim tragedy—is depicted on this month’s cover. The German plane, riddled by Allied bullets, is going down—a flaming coffin. Its pilot, about to take the leap that means death, turns to make one last gesture—a salute to the Allied pilot who has sent him down—and his conqueror answers the salute. Fighting for different causes though they were, those two airmen, like all the true knights of the air, held one thing highest—Courage, in life or in death!

“His Last Salute”
Flying Aces, August 1931 by Colcord Heurlin

“HAW-W-W-W-W!” That sound can only mean one thing—that Bachelor of Artifice, Knight of Calamity and an alumnus of Doctor Merlin’s Camelot College for Conjurors is back to vex not only the Germans, but the Americans—the Ninth Pursuit Squadron in particular—as well. Yes it’s the marvel from Boonetown, Iowa himself—Lieutenant Phineas Pinkham!

France and England borrowed plenty from Uncle Sam during the years of the Big Fuss and citizens on this side of the big pond are still wondering why they have not paid up. There was one thing which the Limeys returned in 1918, however, that certain taxpayers wished they had kept. This was an aviator by the name of Lieutenant Phineas Pinkham, exponent of legerdemain, prestidigitation, black magic, ventriloquism, and all other such doubtful arts that have been nurtured through the centuries to plague the civilized world.

It was the Kaiser’s dread “Ogre of the Ozone” who was causing all the trouble. He’d introduced a game of hop-scotch that the Ladies from Hades hadn’t bargained on. And when the bullets began to fly, split skirts came back into style. So when the Brass Hats tossed Lieutenant Pinkham in with the kilties, said Pinkham found himself in a tight spot—and you can take that two ways.

• Download “Scot Free-For-All” (October 1937, Flying Aces)

As a bonus…some fan art of the Boonetown Treasure!

THIS week we present a cover by Arnold Lorne Hicks! Hicks worked in the pulps primarily from the late ’20’s to the mid 30’s, producing covers for such magazines as North-West Stories, Navy Stories, Police Stories, Detective Dragnet, Sky Birds, Golden West, Western Trails, Love Adventures, and a couple covers for Flying Aces!

Creased!

THE deadliest wound possible to receive in the air, outside of a bullet through the heart, is the “creaser.” Many an airman has gone west in a crash as the result of a bullet wound across the head that stuns him long enough to allow the plane to get completely out of control. The same wound, received on the ground, would result in nothing more uncomfortable than a numbing headache after a surgeon had attended it. Hundreds of aviators have received serious wounds in the stomach, lungs or limbs and have been able to bring their ships down in safety, but a “creaser” leaves the pilot unconscious and unable to save himself. Captain Ball, who fell after winning the Victoria Cross, and Major Hawker, another British ace with a long list of victories, both went down to their deaths after receiving slight head wounds—wounds that, compared to their actual deaths, were mere pin scratches. Our cover this month shows us a war pilot in a similar difficulty.

“Creased!”
Flying Aces, June 1931 by Arnold Lorne Hicks

“HAW-W-W-W-W!” That sound can only mean one thing—it’s time to ring out the old year and ring in the new with that Bachelor of Artifice, Knight of Calamity and an alumnus of Doctor Merlin’s Camelot College for Conjurors—Phineas Pinkham. From the pages of the September 1937 Flying Aces, it’s another sky-high “Phineas Pinkham” mirthquake from the Joe Archibald—It’s “Peck’s Spad Boys!”

A peck of trouble! That’s what was stirred up when C. Ashby Peck lugged his typewriter onto the drome of the 9th. But Phineas Pinkham, the Boonetown Bam, was right ready with a hunt-and-peck system counter-attack. And when von Liederkranz showed his face, Carbuncle showed his hand. In fact, he did more than show his hand—he dropped it!

• Download “Peck’s Spad Boys” (September 1937, Flying Aces)

THIS week we present another cover by Arnold Lorne Hicks! Hicks worked in the pulps primarily from the late ’20’s to the mid 30’s, producing covers for such magazines as North-West Stories, Navy Stories, Police Stories, Detective Dragnet, Sky Birds, Golden West, Western Trails, Love Adventures, and a couple covers for Flying Aces!

Creased!

AN ALLIED scout was struck by one of the bombs from the Allied machine it was escorting! It actually happened because the scout pilot, in fighting an enemy ship that was bent on destroying the bomber, got out of formation and flew into the danger zone below his own bombers. What really saved him was the fact that the bomb, set with a delayed-time detonation—so that it would fall well into the hangars before explosion—did not explode until it had fallen more than 600 feet below the battered scout. There was a time when seconds counted!

“Out of Formation!”
Flying Aces, July 1931 by Arnold Lorne Hicks

“HAW-W-W-W-W!” That sound can only mean one thing—that Bachelor of Artifice, Knight of Calamity and an alumnus of Doctor Merlin’s Camelot College for Conjurors is back to vex not only the Germans, but the Americans—the Ninth Pursuit Squadron in particular—as well. Yes it’s the marvel from Boonetown, Iowa himself—Lieutenant Phineas Pinkham!

The Boonetown Marvel started the argument in a Frog grog shop in Bar-Le-Duc. It was an argument having to do with the respective merits of two branches of the air service and the comparative risk attached to each. Phineas orated that the boys who went up under the rubber cows had a lead pipe cinch. Any old woman, he insisted, could climb into a laundry basket and be let up into the ozone by a wire cable. But he thinks differently when he finds himself dangling below one without a parachute and a pesky Fokker trying to shoot him down. It’s another whizzing “Phineas” whoop—from the pages of the August 1937 issue of Flying Aces, it’s “Swiss Wheeze” by Joe Archibald.

Everything that goes up must come down! When that derelict rubber cow went high-tailing up into the clouds, P. Pinkham quickly verified the fact that he wasn’t the deception that proved the rule. He also demonstrated that he certainly knew his Horace, even though he’d never studied Cicero. And that’s how a St. Bernard’s “ARF!” came to be translated into the Kaiser’s St. Mihiel “OOF!”

• Download “Swiss Wheeze” (August 1937, Flying Aces)

“HAW-W-W-W-W!” You heard right! That sound can only mean one thing—that Bachelor of Artifice, Knight of Calamity and an alumnus of Doctor Merlin’s Camelot College for Conjurors is back. Yes it’s the marvel from Boonetown, Iowa himself—Lieutenant Phineas Pinkham—and he goes to Gay Paree in this latest Roar! You’ve read about Fraulein Doktor—well, Pinkham runs afoul of one of her protégées, Fraulein Interne, and tries to thwart her dastardly plans!

The skirmish of the Mole in Montmartre! When P. Pinkham, hero of the Ninth, engineered that one, the action on the Mole at Zeebrugge looked like a game of drop the handkerchief in comparison. Only this time it was La Tosca who got dropped. And Fraulein Interne? Well, her big idea was aero surgery without anesthetics—but by the time the knives quit flying, she was back in her pre-med course.

• Download “Spree With Lemons” (July 1937, Flying Aces)

THE unstoppable Donald E. Keyhoe had a story in a majority of the issue of Flying Aces from his first in January 1930 until he returned to the Navy in 1942. Starting in August 1931, they were stories featuring the weird World War I stories of Philip Strange. But in November 1936, he began alternating these with sometime equally weird present day tales of espionage Ace Richard Knight—code name Agent Q. After an accident in the Great War, Knight developed the uncanny ability to see in the dark. Aided by his skirt-chasing partner Larry Doyle, Knights adventures ranged from your basic between the wars espionage to lost valley civilizations and dinosaurs. Secret agents from a dozen countries have all rushed into the Mediterranean for something—but what? Knight and Doyle set out to find out just what it could be. The carrier from which they’ve just taken off mysteriously and soundlessly explodes leaving nothing behind! Just what is out there?

Toward grim Gibraltar, Dick Knight sped his sleek Vought. For Europe’s craftiest spies were hurrying into that caldron of intrigue just beyond “The Rock”—and Washington’s orders had been terse: “Find out why”! But already that sinister sea was red with the blood of rash agents who had ventured too far. And already it was too late for Dick Knight to turn back. For he had defied muted murder—had defied “The Death that had no face”!

• Download “Vultures of Silence” (May 1938, Flying Aces)

“Haw-w-w-w-w!” That sound can only mean one thing—it’s time to ring out the old year and ring in the new with that Bachelor of Artifice, Knight of Calamity and an alumnus of Doctor Merlin’s Camelot College for Conjurors—Phineas Pinkham. The Boonetown miracle is sent to Bagdad to find out the lay of the land between Bagdad and Mosul—the strength of Turkish troops, the number of guns, and all that sort of thing. But most important of all, he is to ferret out the Turkish spy—Mustapha Murad. It is a dangerous job, that Phineas accomplishes in his own inimitable style. It’s the Arabian Nights a’la Phineas Pinkham! From the pages of the June 1937 issue of Flying Aces, it’s “Bagged in Bagdad!”

Off in Harun Al Raschid’s sinister land of mystery, Mussulman musclemen had muscled in, hence the Limeys’ battle layout didn’t look so lush. As for Phineas, both teams in the Big Scrap were after his scalp. For even though Beni Sentmi had scored a neat outfield assist, Mustapha Murad and Rancid Bey were next on the batting list. And they were ready to knock a Bagdad four-bagger right over the fez.

• Download “Bagged in Bagdad” (June 1937, Flying Aces)

THIS week we present another of Paul Bissell’s covers for Flying Aces! Bissell is mainly known for doing the covers of Flying Aces from 1931 through 1934 when C.B. Mayshark took over duties. For the February 1932 cover Bissell put us right in the action as Major Barker fights his way through Hell skies to down five German planes in a single day!

How Barker Won the V.C.

JUST four years before, it had been Barker. W.G. Private 106074, First Canadian Rifles. Today, October 17, 1918, it was Major Barker, D.S.C., M.C., with forty-six Germans to his credit, who was waving good-bye to his squadron mates as in his Snipe machine he took off for England. The day was clear, and those on the ground smiled as they saw the little machine climb higher and higher. Yes, Billy Barker was obeying orders and “proceeding to England,” but via Germany, and one last scrap.

He was four and a half miles up when he met his first enemy, a double-seater machine, with a good pilot and a scrappy observer. Twice Barker attacked before he sent this plane down. Then, when the machine burst into flames, he pulled out of his dive, leveling off just as a burst from above caught him completely unawares.

He slipped away on a wing, but not soon enough to avoid an explosive bullet which completely shattered his left thigh. Turning to the attack, his fast-maneuvering Snipe quickly got him into a position where, with deadly coolness, he finished his second German of the day.

Dizzy from loss of blood, he suddenly found the sky around him literally black with German pjanes. The watching Tommies on the ground estimated that the planes numbered no less than sixty.

Without hesitation Barker dived at the nearest enemy. Number three went down.

Now the Germans were firing at him from every direction. His machine was hit repeatedly and he himself was wounded again, this time in the right thigh. His machine out of control, he fell into a spin, followed down by the whole German circus. After a few thousand feet, however, the rush of air revived Barker, and savagely he returned to the attack.

A quick tight loop—his favorite maneuver—one short burst, and the fourth German went down in flames. But again Barker pays dearly. This time another explosive bullet takes away his entire left elbow joint. Once again he goes into a spin, down he twists, the Boche diving after and riddling his machine. The gas tank is demolished. Fighting desperately to maintain consciousness, he switches his engine to his auxiliary tank, and once again turns on his foes.

But the battle is over. Faint from loss of blood, scarcely conscious, Barker, with one last effort, turns his plane toward the west, and dives headlong toward the shell-pocked earth, piling up in a barbed wire entanglement just inside the British lines.

Downed at last, but still alive and smiling. Sixty to one were the odds. Five German planes was the toll he took.

The best that England could give in medical attention was his. Slowly they nursed him back to health, and Major Barker became Colonel William George Barker, V.C., D.S.O., M.C., with fifty-one official air victories to his credit—and he was less than twenty-four years old!

“How Barker Won the V.C.”
Flying Aces, February 1932 by Paul J. Bissell

“HAW-W-W-W-W!” That sound can only mean one thing—it’s time to ring out the old year and ring in the new with that Bachelor of Artifice, Knight of Calamity and an alumnus of Doctor Merlin’s Camelot College for Conjurors—Phineas Pinkham.

It was reported that plans vital to the Allied cause had been stolen from a certain general in a hotel in Bar-Le-Duc. Potsdam’s spies had been out-snooping the Allied slewfoots. Things were known on the German side that should not have been known—and wouldn’t have been unless there was skulduggery on the Democratic side of the lines. Washington, London, Rome, and Paris were getting inklings here and there anent a mysterious Teuton Intelligence Dynasty. The scions of a well-born family irrigated with blue Dutch blood were spread all over the Western Front. A lot of practical brass hats called it an Old Wives’ tale. They said that it was propaganda to irk the morale of the Allies. But when a certain concentration center or important dump was shellacked with deadly precision, the same brass hats began to bite their finger nails and believe in anything—even a pilot called Patrick Henry the Third!

From the pages of the May 1937 Flying Aces, it’s another sky-high “Phineas Pinkham” mirthquake from the Joe Archibald—It’s “Wrong About Face!”

When Patrick Henry the Third shoved his super-schnozzled pan into Major Rufus Garrity’s flight office, the ozone above the drome rang with the patriotic cry of “Give me a Liberty or give me a Hisso!” But before long someone started to play a game that called for an aunt instead of an ante. And Phineas? Well, he played a Pat face against a Pat hand.

• Download “Wrong About Face!” (May 1937, Flying Aces)

THIS November we’re celebrating William E. Barrett’s Birthday with one of his pulp stories each Friday.

Before he became renown for such classics as The Left Hand of God and Lilies of The Field, Barrett honed his craft across the pages of the pulp magazines—and nowhere more so than in War Birds and it’s companion magazine War Aces where he contributed smashing novels and novelettes, True tales of the Aces of the Great War, encyclopedic articles on the great war planes as well as other factual features. Here at Age of Aces Books he’s best known for his nine Iron Ace stories which ran in Sky Birds in the mid ’30s!

Today we have the story of Jack Kane, a pilot with the 17th Squadron’s C Flight who’s in over his head. Turns out C Flight plays hand after hand of poker in between patrols and young Kane has been doling out I.O.U.s to cover his debts and the time to settle up those debts is fast approaching. Problem is, he doesn’t have the money to cover those I.O.U.s. Kane believes it would be better to perish in battle and die a hero than face disgrace when his debts come due!

Disgrace faced young Kane in twenty-four hours. And there ahead of him, with guns jammed—a Fokker’s cold meat—was the man from whose hands disgrace would come. Fate was giving Kane his chance—yet he could not take it!

From the October 1931 Flying Aces, it’s William E. Barrett’s “Suicide Struts!”

• Download “Suicide Struts” (October 1931, Flying Aces)

THIS week we have a cover by the great Colcord Heurlin! He provided covers throughout the 1920’s and early 30’s for various pulp magazines—most frequently for your Adventure type magazines. Here we present his cover for the March 1931 issue of Flying Aces—a dynamic cover that once again has a story to tell.

Bombers Down!

NOT all the danger attending the life of a bombardment pilot was crammed into the few mad minutes he spent over his objective, dodging enemy anti-aircraft fire, intercepting aircraft or the betraying beams of searchlights while his observer pulled the toggles that released the grim eggs. There was the dangerous take-off with a loaded plane. There was the wild flight across the line through the barrage of steel that vomited up from anti-aircraft batteries, and then, above all, there was the flight back.

To carry high explosive was no cinch at the best of times, and many a pilot lost pounds in weight or added years to his age as he sat in the ship carrying the dangerous missiles. Once over the objective, they could get rid of the stuff and heave a sigh of relief. But—suppose the bomb rack jammed and left the bombs hanging by a lone loop. Suppose the observer yanked and pulled on the toggles in an effort to get it off, anyway and anywhere at all, with no success.

This has happened on several occasions, and generally speaking, the airmen are in a tight position. They cannot land with the bomb hanging in that manner. With the nose portion clear of the rack, as is shown in this month’s illustration, the wind vane has been released and the percussion pin has been wound into concussion position. All it requires is a slight jounce, and the 500-pound shell of T.N.T. is touched off. There is nothing to do but try and get the shell off somehow. Many an observer today is wearing a ribbon on his old flying tunic for getting out and releasing a bomb from a rack that has jammed. Sometimes it is easy. Sometimes the observer has had to get down on the landing gear and actually file the release pin off, or even shoot it away with an automatic.

There were times when it was done successfully. There were many when they were unable to release it before their gas supply ran out.

“Bombers Down!”/strong>
Flying Aces, March 1931 by Colcord Heurlin