To Arms!

Unpleasantness in the Alien Sky

August 16, 1939
41st Reconnaissance Squadron
Unknown Sea

A dark green plane soared through a sky entirely devoid of clouds. Its wings displayed asymmetrical white-and-red checkerboards, a similar marking was also present on the tail fin. On the fuselage, between the observer-bombardier's position and the rear gunner, was the squadron emblem: a griffin, the symbol of Pomerania, depicted in red on a white pentagonal shield with a red border.

The aircraft in question was a PZL.23 Karaś, a Polish line aircraft—meaning a reconnaissance-bomber. Although the plane itself wasn't bad—on the contrary, it was quite good, and for the Polish aviation industry, it was a significant step toward modernity—the concept behind its design was, unfortunately, morally outdated. To fully realize this, the world had to go through World War II. Line aircraft quickly transitioned into other roles as they suffered heavy losses during the war. Except for the Polish ones, of course, since it's hard to reassign aircraft that have already been shot down, right?

Unfortunately, that wasn't surprising, given that aviation design could be obsolete even a year after being introduced, let alone after four years! It wasn't like today, where one type of aircraft can serve for forty years or more. Back then, aviation technology was akin to what space technology or various forms of electronics and software are today.

Any country with its own aviation industry, and Poland had one, could count itself among a select group of elite nations leading technological development.

The Karaś plane flying toward the land spotted fifteen or more minutes earlier was piloted by Officer Cadet Władysław Radwański. His commander and observer was Lieutenant Stefan Hałłas, and the last crew member was Corporal Marek Majewski, serving as the rear gunner.

The crew on this particular flight could count themselves lucky as they were equipped with wz. 38 aviation helmets. What were those? It can be said, without exaggeration, that they were the precursor to all modern aviation helmets. Like today's helmets, they had built-in headphones for radio or telephone communication, as well as a laryngophone, a special microphone designed to work in noisy environments. The helmet, for obvious reasons, was leather, not plastic like modern ones.

Thanks to this invention, the crews of aircraft equipped with radios could communicate directly, which in the case of Karaś aircraft eliminated a significant flaw: the lack of direct communication between crew members. Due to the plane's design, all three airmen were isolated from each other. So, how did they communicate, specifically how did the observer-commanders relay orders to the pilot?

They used notes placed in an envelope or bag, which then traveled along the fuselage on a string. Funny, right?

As you might imagine, this was highly impractical, so Karaś crews eagerly welcomed the new helmets that solved this pressing issue. In fact, they valued these helmets more for their communication capabilities than for their protective functions, which they did have.

Incidentally, tank crews equipped with radios also received modern helmets based on these aviation helmets, known as "helmofons." Unfortunately, these were limited to command vehicles only. The reason was simple: cost. The Polish Army's needs far exceeded the financial capabilities of the Polish state. Ironically, Poland's arms industry had much greater production capacity than was utilized, precisely because of this reason.

It's no wonder that no 21st-century country still uses a resource-backed currency and instead relies on fiat money. What's the point of having currency tied to value when you never have enough to acquire what you really need?

Poland would have been better off with a few hundred more PZL.11c fighters or something as basic as radio sets, which were in short supply compared to the military's standard requirements, rather than banknotes exchangeable for gold.