The Russians Are Missing! The Russians Are Missing!

You May Not Get The Significance Of That Title
Unless you're a film buff, or (as per Conrad) have a mind like a rubbish skip.  A rubbish skip with a cubic capacity of several million tons, mind.
     As you surely ought to know by now, BOOJUM! pokes moderate fun at the Ruffians and Tsar Putin; why, a couple of years back we had a semi-regular article featuring Misha and Grisha, two officers in the Strategic Rocket Forces and their usually inebriated antics at SRF Base Sixteen near Novy Palatinsk.  That's how much we like the Ruffians; enough to make fun of them.  Art?

Some people are not amused, like this gentleman.  Sorry, sir!

     Of course, we balance our gentle mockery with items that put across how clever and inventive the Ruffians can be, when they're not plotting to invade a nearby neighbour.  As an example, Conrad is a fan of the Strugatsky Brothers, two Sinister-era scientists who wrote sci-fi of a very Russian bent.  There is still a market for a Hollywood version of "Roadside Picnic", you know (I can do a treatment for £75,000 if needed!)

One of the best covers ever

     Now to the meat of the matter.  Conrad checks out his blog traffic figures all day long, and up until a few weeks ago could always count on a few Ruffians daring to see what vaguely satirical scrivel he'd penned about them.
     No longer!  Art?

     You can hopefully read the list - absent any Ruffians.  
     Here an aside.  Exactly what is the "Unknown Region"?  Atlantis?  Lemuria?  Lilliput?  If Blogger defines the map, how can they have any unknown countries present?
     Anyway, I bet if you could eavesdrop upon the Kremlin right now you'd hear Tsar Putin braying about how he's " - closed down Conrad, that arch-anarchist and spearhead of the CIA and biscuit-stealer and do you know what he was doing in the bathroom -" - er - yes - quite - and probably sounding like the cat that not only ate the cream but the canary, too.

Silently digesting both, I think.

     Your Humble Scribe wonders and ponders if posting this is going to invite scrutiny by the FSB - hello boys! - because if so, it might sow some dangerous ideas amongst them.  I am minded of the BAOR signals detachment who coded and transmitted the Czech Charter 77 documents via radio, knowing that the GRU would intercept and decode it; I bet there were some feathers ruffled then.
     Motley, let's play chess*!  You can be Botvinnik and I'll be Fischer.

Back To "Raising Churchill's Army" By Professor David French
I have threatened to come back to this work, and I HAVE KEPT MY PROMISE.  The last time we went over Ol' Dave's work was about the intriguing concept of deliberately targetting enemy headquarters thanks to signals intelligence.  Today we look at artillery, which is all those big noisy guns plastering the opposition with High Explosive.

A 5.5" gun crew don't have to heft 100 pound shells very far.  Lucky them!

     Beginning at First Alamein, the massed artillery of Perfidious Albion became an entity that the Teuton soldier grew to hate hate hate above all else.  Thanks to drills, staff work and comms, a British division's artillery could be called upon to fire on a target within minutes - three if everyone was on top form.  This kind of firepower could and did stop enemy attacks in their tracks.  It was also used to bombard the opposition for hours on end, which is a testament to the kind of logistics support Perfidious Albion had, that it could muster the shells for this kind of harassment.  Ol' Dave reckons that wartime psychologists gave a man about four hours under a non-stop bombardment before he cracked.  It wasn't really about the volume of fire suffered, it was the length, which - of course! - the British exploited by having anything that could shoot any distance focus on the opposition.  This was called "pepper-potting".

The Big Bang Boys in Normandy; the aircraft is probably an Aerial Observation Post flown by a Royal Artillery officer

     If the Royal Artillery located an enemy artillery battery (see AOP in the picture above) then counter-battery procedures went into action, which meant in Normandy that the hapless Teuton gun positions suffered a dousing of at least 20 tons of HE shells, and possibly up to 30.  Firepower not manpower in practice!

I Have Noticed -
You may be aware of Conrad's Theory Of Middle-Age And Murder, wherein those of us of a certain age find themselves irresistibly drawn to read or watch murder mysteries; it must be a consequence of age and bodies changing and looking for drama and intellect rather than passion and good looks.  Or something.

Lord Peter is scrutinising you.  YES YOU!

     Anyway, there I am watching "Murder She Wrote" for hours on end, and - this has nothing to do with Jessica Fletcher so don't worry about any criticism of her or hers and in fact I noticed that the typewritten note was an intrinsic plot point - I notice a theme amongst the adverts.  Rather than being targetted at an Old Fogey Audience (incontinence and mobility the theme) they include what I would call "Vast and Vapid" adverts about perfumes.  A famous face, a soundtrack, no dialogue, a pretentious setting, the Perfume Name, the end.
     Wasted on Conrad, who had no sense of smell.

British Judo Olympian Sally Conway (in blue) puts the hurt on her opponent

     There's someone who deserves more attention than " - a famous face -" and did you really think Kate Moss was going to appear here?

Finally -
I realise I didn't elaborate on this evening's title, which is a direct reference to a Cold War comedy entitled "The Russians Are Coming!  The Russians Are Coming!" and because I've dug a bit into it, rest assured that we will be returning to the topic.  Art?

Ah, the old "Invert the 'R' to make it look Cyrillic" tack <slaps forehead>

*  There is a Sinister B & W comedy film from 1926 that centres on chess.  Honestly.