Showing posts with label Great Britain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Great Britain. Show all posts

Friday, September 27, 2013

Pre-radar technology for detecting bombers

By Jack Brummet, History Ed.

These two devices—before radar—were used in England for detecting approaching German bombers. The second photos shows a portable version.


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Friday, August 19, 2011

Great Britain's attempt to turn Adolf Hitler into a woman

By Jack Brummet,
Military History Editor






When World War II seemed like it would never end, with Germany's unending pursuit of real estate, America dragging her feet, and the relentless Blitzkrieg pounding London almost nightly, British spooks cooked up a plan to insinuate Hitler’s food with female sex hormones (e.g., estrogen) in hopes of taming the killer inside him.


Counterintelligence agents came up with a plan to smuggle doses of estrogen into his food to make him less aggressive.  The Fuhrer, natch, had a battery of food tasters.   But estrogen is colorless, tasteless, and odorless, and works slowly.  The food tasters would never detect it.

[Editor's note:   This reminds us of the wacky CIA plans cooked up in the 60's to poison Fidel Castro's cigars, and another one to slip him drugs that would make his beard and hair fall out.]



The Allied plan to nudge Hitler into womanhood is just one of the many bizarre plots detailed in a cool new book: Secret Weapons: Technology, Science And The Race To Win World War II, by Brian Ford.  You could buy a copy here.
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Saturday, July 03, 2010


I hope some of my British friends can explain this curious dessert from England that I saw in my local grocery store this week. I suspect it has appeared in some Monty Python and Benny Hill bits at some time or other...
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Friday, May 02, 2008

Looking snappy in Great Britain, and other notes on visiting the Motherland



You probably didn't know this, but any self-respectable, dapper, and upwardly mobile hotel in Great Britain includes one item you won't find in the States: The Corby of Windsor Trouser Press. Now, if you're like me, you find yourself often needing a trouser press when you're on the road. And like all electrical appliances in the UK, this baby heats up fast because we're talking 240 blowtorch volts. The water in my teakettle boils in about thirty seconds. Now I get this whole 240 thing--it's for more than just heating up your hot tub or your oven.

OK, so they don't have a hair dryer, and they don't even have bad drip coffee (it's all instant freeze dried crystals, baby, unless you go to a "proper" coffee shop). The hotel room does stock little tubes of instant coffee, reminiscent of Greece in the 80s, some nice teas, and some sweet biscuits. But the trouser press is something else entirely. I wanted to fire this sucker up and give my jeans a proper pressing, but I don't have the nerve. Since I brought one pair, I really don't want to end up trouserless in Britain!

From the Corby of Windsor website: "See for yourself a solution popular in Europe and sweeping across the United States that saves time, money and possible damage by unnecessary dry-cleaning. The solution is a trouser presser that also serves as a complete garment organizer and admired piece of furniture.

"Recognized world wide first by the hotel industry with affluent patrons with a need to travel light and reuse a suit and is quickly becoming a common household item and gift idea for those who value both their appearance and their time. "



"Easy to use with a common sense design and automatic timer. It's as quick and easy to use as placing pants on a hanger, pushing one button, and walk away. Knockoffs and imitations from mass producing countries do not compare to the quality materials, assembly and importantly the functionality found in the models offer here. " [ed's note: they may have invented English, but check out the grammar in that first sentence. AND the second sentence!]

And finally, despite whatever else you've heard, the food here is worse than I remembered. Pathetic would be a generous description. It is cooked indifferently, and even when the ingredients are great (which is a rarity based on my limited experience this time), it is bland and weak, and often really sad. You pay about $12 for a glass of extremely run of the mill wine--on the order of something you might get at a stateside Chinese restaurant. A basic breakfast at my hotel is $32.

I made a friend here--a Japanese-American who is a translator, and speaks perfect northwest English, although he grew up in Japan. And this guy from Tokyo is also complaining about the prices here! He has been here for months now from Tokyo, and when I told him my 34 hours here so far has given me an insatiable craving for sushi, he said "don't do it!" I asked why. "You have to ask?," he said. "They cannot even cook rice here." I believe it. They can't cook potatoes either. Or toast. I like these people a lot, but I wouldn't wish this cuisine on even George W. Bush. Maybe I'll have better news to report when I get back to London tomorrow night... Namaste! /jack