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Hindu Ladies College and Peninsula idyll

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Excerpted from Chosen Ground: The Clara Motwani saga
by Goolbai Gunasekera

Mrs. Visaladhy Sivagurunathan, a philanthropic Hindu lady, had gifted the property of Hindu Ladies’ College to the school in 1943. Mother was the school’s fifth Principal. Under her, the first Past Pupils’ Association was formed, with Mrs. Jeevaratnam Rasiah as its first President. Miss Thambu (Mother’s long suffering Tamil tutor) was its Secretary. Just recently, I was invited to speak to the Colombo branch of the HLC alumni.

I met a former HLC teacher there – Mrs Navaratna, formerly Leela Ponniah – along with many old friends. The reverence in which Mother was held was very heart- warming, and it was a moving experience to hear the stories they related of instances in which Mother had touched – and sometimes directed – their lives.

A glamour figure on the HLC campus was a Miss Shantha from India. She wore the most gorgeous saris and influenced my love of cotton saris in years to come. It is strange indeed that one’s perceptions can be so acutely honed when one is still so young. To this day I can recall most of Miss Shantha’s wardrobe.

Another fantastically good teacher was Vijayalakshmi Pathy. She was also one of the most attractive. She absorbed all Mother’s teaching methods; and her family in Britain, where she now lives, is a testimony to her fine guidance as a mother and grandmother, and not only as a teacher.

Picnics in Jaffna were given top priority. Mother liked to combine education with pleasure, so every picnic had some place of interest on the day’s agenda. We visited the Rosarian monks’ vineyards and place of retreat. We went to Keerimalai, which is a fresh water tank lying a few yards away from the sea. Bathing suits were not a part of our school wardrobes, but even in sarongs and bathing cloths we essayed a swimming stroke or two.

Visits to other schools were another distraction. Mother arranged netball matches with many Jaffna schools and colleges, and I particularly remember one with Vembadi Girls’ School, for I made a friend, Kiruba Moses, whom I remember to this day.

Mother was quickly drawn into the educational world of Jaffna. Miss Barker of Vembadi was a dose friend and Principals’ meetings were many. Being somewhat young at the time, many illustrious names have now escaped me. I do recall having tea with Lady Ramanathan, the British wife of the founder of Ramanathan College. Her daughter, Mrs. Nadesan, was the nominal Head of that school but it was the senior Lady Ramanathan who pretty much ran things. Transport was occasionally in cars – often in buggy carts.

Athough Mother did not keep diaries that recorded her personal experiences, she was a great one to keep detailed notes of the educational aspects of her life. That she would keep notes on my progress was to be expected, but they were not the sort of notes one expects of a mother: they were the notes of an educationist. In years to come I was not enchanted to read: ‘Goolbai would do better in Mathematics if she were not so over confident. This carries over into other subjects too, I find’.

Whatever Mother thought of my shortcomings as a student, she positively glowed at my accomplishments in Jaffna. Her notes took on a lyrical quality. She rhapsodized: ‘My experiments seemed to have worked at last, and Goolbai is really doing so well I can hardly credit it’. Never could it be said that dilly-dallying was one of Mother’s failings. Taking the tide at its flood she arranged for all the new academic interest I was showing to be further enhanced by a little advanced private tuition in Science.

My classmate Thilaka Karunanandan had a brother who had just finished his degree and was reputedly a brilliant scholar. Mother asked him if he would kindly tutor me in his spare time. He did.

When I was not studying on my own I was being tutored regularly. Along with my classmates, I played netball, studied, sang Tamil songs (which I quickly picked up) in the evenings, studied, had long icily refreshing well baths, studied, saw a movie once a month, studied and then studied some more.

My mind was soon becoming as razor-sharp as those of the brilliant Tamil girls with whom I was now competing although, truth to tell, I was never in their league. The students of HLC had the tenacity of Bruce’s spider. They were always on an upward track.

“But what did you do in Jaffna?” Colombo friends would ask Mother later.

“We were always doing something,” Mother would answer, and we were.

Socially, a lot went on behind those cadjan walls that screened the houses and gardens of Jaffna residences from the road. Right opposite our home and almost next to the school lived Dr. and Mrs. Canagasabai and their family. Dr. Canagasabai – a Malaya returned doctor, whose youngest daughter Dharma, had just left school –quickly struck up a friendship with us.

Dr. Canagasabai had a very large garden with a badminton court and every evening we would play strenuous matches with the Canagasabai nieces, nephews and friends. It was a sort of informal club. On moonlit nights picnics would be arranged to beaches and similar places, with no thought of danger in anyone’s mind. It was a time of peace. It was a time of friendship. These were the last few years before politics and politicians divided the island as surely as if they had taken a metaphorical knife and cut this lovely land and its people in half.

Sincerity, simplicity and affection were

what Mother found in Jaffna. She had expected immovable bastions of conservatism. She found instead pliable minds and flexible brains. Jaffna has always remained a special place to the Motwanis. Before the 1983 tragedy stopped travel to the North, I took my husband and daughter to revisit my old school. It was a nostalgic time.

The school was on vacation but I had the permission of the Principal to wander through it. Buildings had quadrupled in size but the familiar classrooms still stood. I recalled with a shudder the time I opened my desk and found that a little snake had got in through the inkwell. Could this have been the very desk perhaps? There was still an inkwell in it.

Mother had begun the study of Tamil a week after she got to Jaffna. Our brand-new house had a broad veranda running right around it. An enormous desk occupied the shady side of it, and it was here that Mother had her lessons. She could never rid herself of that very American trait which had every waking moment gainfully utilized. Despite a heavy work schedule, Mother seriously tried to learn the language.

“Did she ever pick it up?” I asked her teacher, Thailnayagi Thambu (now Karunanandan) recently.

“She was not in Jaffna long enough to really get into it,” was the tactful reply. Mother’s flair for languages did not translate well into the Oriental variety. She was considered the class wizard in Latin, French and Spanish but somehow her ear was not attuned to Sinhala and Tamil. Neither was it vital to learn either language when she first came to this island as the British still ruled and everything was in English. Father, on the other hand, picked up Sinhala in three months and was soon well able to berate our long suffering cook-amme in an understandable lingo.

I drifted into Mother’s old office. It was still the same office but very modernized. It was here Mother had drilled her teachers in the requirements of the Dalton Plan.

This plan was a system she had greatly admired when visiting the Dalton School in New York. It required that teachers made detailed plans of their subject, and students were given these plans in the form of six-weekly advance schedules. A gifted student could then even proceed on her own, while a weak one could get help before the subject was taken up in class. At the Dalton School in New York, which I attended for a short time, I never got beyond History and English — but I did complete those syllabuses to Mother’s satisfaction.

“Your Mother motivated us instantly,” said Miss Leela Navaratne (nee Ponniah). “We understood the Plan, and it was brilliant from the start.” Of course it worked well. The teachers of Jaffna were born with that same workaholic gene that Mother was finding in her pupils.

As I left the familiar grounds I took one long last look around. I somehow knew I would never see HLC again. Visits to Jaffna take a long time, and were not planned too easily even at that time. The memory of the picture my tall, lovely and gracious Mother made as she said her goodbye to the girls and Staff at Assembly that last day, is still fresh in my heart. And in my own heart the remembrance of Jaffna will always be green.

Our lovely days of quietness and harmony in Jaffna had drawn to a close and Mother returned to Colombo to head Musaeus College. One footnote that bears telling is that thanks to Mother’s recommendation, Dharma Canagasabai became an air hostess on the newly fledged Air Ceylon soon after Mother returned to Colombo.

Peninsula idyll

It cannot be said that I am one of those persons who look at the past through a rose-tinted veil. I do not think that my school days were the happiest times of my life. During my childhood, and even during the teen years, life was restrictive. It was often pleasant, but that was more the luck of the draw. Parents did not lay themselves out to entertain their children or keep them happy. They saw to it that we were reasonably well disciplined and well fed. Our ongoing happiness was not their problem. They had no reason to assume we were anything but totally contented. Today’s collective genuflecting at the shrine of teenage whims and fancies was simply not on.

Mother and Father did not expect either Su or me to feel depressed, insecure, uncertain or unsure. What cause did we have, parents would ask each other in honest bewilderment, to be any of the above? They saw to it that we were told all they felt we needed to know. We went straight from girlhood to adulthood with no dithering along the way. One day we looked like nothing on earth in sober uniforms, tightly braided hair and bright shiny faces, and the very next day we were in a sari (of Mother’s choice or else the choice of Mr. Chandiram, proprietor of the ‘in’ sari shop of the time and the arbiter of teen fashions), looking very grown up and quite glamorous. There was no in-between time.

If I was happy anywhere during my school years, it was in Jaffna. Perhaps it -was the laid-back lifestyle of the Peninsula that caused me to have Mother’s company for much of the time. This is what made it so pleasurable. We were always exceptionally close. For years we were pretty much alone together, while Father was traipsing round the world on lecture tours, and Su was in the USA with our grandparents or else at St. Bridget’s Convent which she loved.

As a result, Mother and I bonded more closely than we would have done if we had had a normal family life. It was a closeness that Su always resented. Sometimes Father did so too. I was more attuned than they were to Mother’s moods — such as they were, for she was not a moody person. She had a happy outlook, an optimistic one. Her occasional worries became my worries, and as I grew older, I could always sense if she were ill.

I worried about her health. Mother had rather brittle bones, and a fall could mean a fracture. She had a low tolerance of pain, and I hated to see her suffer. Her joys, likewise, were shared with me. I understood her. We loved being together. Her gentleness, imposed on my more aggressive personality, has benefited me all my life.

Mother feared and disliked cats intensely. This aversion extended to anything furry, even a fur coat.

“Would you rather have a snake curled round you or have a cat on your lap?” we would ask her.

“A snake any day,” she’d reply, shuddering. “I would hyperventilate if a cat sat on my lap.”

This fear caused her much grief When she was a teenager my grandmother had taken her to hear the great pianist Paderewski play. (He was later the Prime Minister of Poland). The lady seated next to Mother had slung her fur coat over the arm of her chair, and poor Mother sat rigidly through what should have been one of the most wonderful experiences of her life.



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El Niño under way and threatens weather extremes, scientists say

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El Niño – the natural Pacific weather pattern that pushes up global temperatures – has officially begun, US scientists say.

The US National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) has declared that El Niño conditions are now under way in the tropical Pacific, with sea surface temperatures having risen sharply in recent months.

Many forecasts suggest this could end up as a so-called “super” El Niño, and even be among the strongest ever recorded.

Coming on top of decades of human-caused warming, it could bring another record-hot year – most likely in 2027 – with disruption to weather, food supplies and economies running well into that year.

This announcement by NOAA is not a surprise as forecasters have expected this warming phase, after the cooler “sister” pattern, La Niña, ended earlier this year.

Sea surface temperatures in the central and tropical Pacific have now passed the 0.5C-above-average threshold that US scientists use to define an El Niño event.

El Niño conditions developed over the past month, as shown by above-average sea surface temperatures (SSTs) across the central to eastern equatorial Pacific Ocean,” the agency said.

NOAA has also seen the winds above the equatorial Pacific begin to shift – a sign that the atmosphere is now responding to the warmer ocean, not just the ocean warming on its own.

A graphic of two global maps with one showing in blue, cooler conditions in a key section of the Pacific in December last year, with a second one showing conditions in May this year, with red indicating a far greater amount of heat coming to the surface of sea.

What has surprised the researchers is how confident the computer models already are about its strength.

El Niño‘s intensity is measured by how far sea surface temperatures rise above average in a key zone of the Pacific.

A strong event is defined as more than 1.5C above average; a very strong one above 2C.

According to NOAA’s June outlook, “there is a 63% chance of a very strong El Niño during November-January, that would rank among the largest El Niño events in the historical record going back to 1950,” the agency said.

The three strongest events since then have been in 1982/83, 1997/98 and 2015/16.

Some of the latest US and European (ECMWF) models go further, showing temperatures in the tropical Pacific potentially climbing more than 3C above average by the end of the year.

But the US agency urged some caution on what their strength prediction implies.

“Even very strong El Niño events do not lead to the expected impact everywhere, but stronger events can more significantly tilt the odds in favour of expected outcomes.”

The bigger concern is that all this is happening on an already much hotter planet.

“We do need to worry about the impacts,” said Prof Adam Scaife, head of monthly to decadal prediction at the UK Met Office.

“The current El Niño is… riding on top of a substantial amount of global warming.

“This means that the actual temperatures in affected regions could well be unprecedented, as the warming from El Niño is being topped up by climate change.”

A very strong El Niño typically lifts global air temperatures by around 0.2C, releasing heat stored in the ocean into the atmosphere. That extra blast now lands on a world that is already setting records.

The year 2024 – the warmest on record – was boosted by an El Niño that was not even especially strong.

And despite the cooling drag of a La Niña event, 2025 still came in as the third warmest year on record, hotter even than the super El Niño year of 2016.

Line graph showing monthly global temperatures since 1975 compared with pre-industrial levels of the late 19th Century. Temperatures show a long-term rising trend - the result of climate change. But temperatures tend to spike in El Niño periods, shown in red, and fall in La Niña periods, shown in blue.

“At the end of this year and into 2027, we’re likely to see very high temperatures globally,” Prof Scaife said.

“In 2027, we’re likely to see excess heat on top of the global warming we’ve already got, and that could easily lead to another year above 1.5 degrees [of warming above late-19th-Century levels].”

EPA-EFE/REX/Shutterstock A farmer holds a small pale ear of corn, grown on his farm in Zambia, that was affected by drought, driven in part by a previous El Niño event.
A farmer in Zambia shows a small ear of corn grown in a field impacted by drought during a previous El Niño event.[BBC]

No two El Niños are alike, but the disruption is felt most sharply in the tropics.

Flooding is common in northern Peru and southern Ecuador, and can reach parts of East Africa, Central Asia and the southern United States.

At the same time, the risk of drought and wildfire rises across much of Australia, Indonesia and northern South America – hitting agriculture and global food stocks.

El Niño also tends to suppress Atlantic hurricanes, and forecasters already expect a quieter-than-average season.

“While that sounds like a good thing, for Central America that leads to a lot less rainfall and potentially drought conditions,” said Liz Stephens, professor of climate risk and resilience at the University of Reading.

Even the UK feels it, if faintly: El Niño can tilt the odds towards a mild start and cold end to winter, though the links are loose.

For many, the forecast is far from abstract.

“An El Niño declaration is not just another weather forecast – for millions of people it is a deadly siren to be feared,” said Mohamed Adow, director of campaign group Power Shift Africa.

“It means failed rains, dying crops, rising food prices, and families pushed to the edge yet again. In East Africa especially, this will land on communities already battered by droughts and floods in recent years.”

Japan’s Meteorological Agency (JMA) takes a similar view to NOAA, judging that El Niño conditions are present. It adds it is all but certain to last into the autumn.

Not every agency is ready to call it, though. Australia’s Bureau of Meteorology (BoM) uses a stricter criterion, requiring sea surface temperatures to exceed 0.8C above average.

This week it said the tropical Pacific was “approaching El Niño conditions”, with central Pacific temperatures already crossing its thresholds, but it stopped short of formally declaring the event had begun.

It expects El Niño to develop later this year, and says it could be strong.

El Niño occurs every two to seven years and usually lasts about a year.

There is still no conclusive proof that climate change is making these events stronger or more frequent – but a warming world can supercharge their effects.

[BBC]

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The Sniper Approach: Precision Medicines to Fight Cancer

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For a considerable length of time in the past, the global war on cancer relied on a strategy similar to carpet-bombing or shooting from the hip in a wider circle. Traditional chemotherapy, while lifesaving for millions, has always been a blunt and aimless instrument. It floods the body with medications that attack any cell that divides rapidly, and because cancer cells divide ever so speedily, they too are destroyed. However, those chemotherapy drugs also attack the healthy multiplying cells all over the body, including those in the hair follicles, stomach, intestinal lining, and bone marrow. It was a kind of an all-encompassing blunderbuss approach. The end result is the all-too-familiar gauntlet of severe nausea, loss of appetite, hair loss, bone marrow depression, as well as profound exhaustion.

But a quiet and profound revolution has been unfolding in the corridors of oncology. Western medicine is rapidly shifting away from this one-size-fits-all assault. Instead, we are entering the era of precision oncology: a paradigm shift where treatments are tailor-made to target the specific genetic and molecular aberrations lurking inside a tumour. In a telling analogy, modern cancer therapy is deploying snipers instead of grenades or carpet bombs. Nowhere is this revolution more visible or more successful than in the fight against blood cancers and lymphomas.

Decoding the Enemy: What are Antigens and Tumour Markers?

To understand how this new generation of medicine works, we have to look at the microscopic histological landscape of a cancer cell. Every cell in the body is covered in unique surface proteins, which act like microscopic identification badges. The immune system scans these badges to differentiate between one’s own healthy tissue and foreign invaders like bacteria or viruses. When any such protein triggers an immune response, it is called an antigen.

When a normal cell transforms or mutates into a cancerous one, its identification badges change. It begins to overexpress certain proteins, display mutated or altered versions of them, or throw out chemical distress signals. Scientists refer to these telltale chemical signatures as tumour markers.

In the past, two patients with the same type of lymphoma would receive exactly the same chemotherapy regimen because their tumour cells looked identical under a standard microscope. Today, molecular testing can reveal that Patient X’s tumour cells are covered in a specific antigen, while Patient Y’s tumour even lacks it entirely. Though the cancer has the same name, the underlying biology is completely different. By identifying these distinct tumour markers, doctors can now select a drug designed specifically to latch onto that exact marker, leaving the neighbouring healthy cells virtually untouched. It is akin even to modern drone technology.

The Breakthrough in Blood Cancers and Lymphomas

While precision medicine is making waves across all of oncology, its most dramatic victories have been won in haematological malignancies; the cancers of the blood, bone marrow, and lymph nodes. Blood cancers are uniquely suited for targeted therapies. Unlike a solid tumour in the lung or colon, which can be a chaotic, structurally complex mass of many different cell types, blood cancers often stem from a single, rogue line of immune cells circulating through the body. This makes it easier for scientists to isolate the specific “glitch” or antigen common to the entire cancerous population and then attack it specifically.

The Story of Rituximab: The First Smart Bomb

Consider the case of a Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma, a cancer of the lymphatic system. A vast majority of these lymphomas arise from cancerous B-cells (a type of lymphocytic white blood cell). Scientists discovered that these malignant cells almost universally carry a specific surface antigen called Cluster of Differentiation or Cluster of Designation, universally known by the abbreviation CD20.

This discovery led to the creation of the medication Rituximab, one of the earliest and most successful monoclonal antibodies. Monoclonal antibodies are laboratory-produced molecules engineered to mimic the body’s natural immune system. They act like guided missiles, designed to seek out and bind to specific proteins or foreign invaders to block disease processes, stop inflammation, or flag infected cells for natural destruction. Engineered in a lab, Rituximab behaves like a heat-seeking missile or a drone, designed to seek out and bind exclusively to the CD20 antigen.

Once it locks onto the cancer cell, it does two things: It delivers a direct blow to the cell’s internal machinery and simultaneously acts as a neon sign, screaming to the patient’s own immune system: “Come and destroy this specific cell.” The introduction of targeted therapies like Rituximab radically transformed the prognosis for lymphoma patients, turning what was once a highly fatal diagnosis into a highly manageable, often curable condition.

Turning the Patient’s Body into the Medicine: CAR-T Cell Therapy

If monoclonal antibodies are smart bombs, the latest frontier in tailored treatment is akin to training an elite, personalised army. CAR-T Cell Therapy (Chimeric Antigen Receptor T-cell therapy) is a highly specialised form of immunotherapy that genetically modifies a patient’s own white blood cells (T-cells) to seek out and destroy cancer cells. The use of the term Chimeric ” indicates a tissue with two or more genetically distinct populations of cells. This is the essence of CAR-T cell therapy, a living drug tailored not just to a type of cancer, but to the individual patient.

The process sounds like science fiction, but it is saving lives today. A patient’s white blood cells (T-cells, the foot soldiers of the immune system) are harvested from their blood. These cells are then genetically re-engineered in a specialised laboratory by using a harmless virus to insert a new gene into these T-cells. This gene instructs the cells to grow a specialised receptor on their surface called a Chimeric Antigen Receptor (CAR). This receptor is custom-built to recognise the exact antigen on the patient’s cancer cells (such as CD19 in acute leukaemia). Then these newly armed “super-cells” are grown by the millions in a laboratory and infused back into the patient.

Once back inside the body, these living weapons hunt down the cancer cells with astonishingly targeted precision. As they are the patient’s own cells, they can persist in the body for years, acting as a vigilant, microscopic security guard against any relapse.

The Benefits: Better Results, Kinder Side-Effects

The most immediate benefit of tailored therapy for the average patient is the reduction in collateral damage. Because these drugs are engineered to ignore cells that do not bear the target antigen, the devastating side effects of traditional chemotherapy are heavily mitigated. Patients generally do not lose their hair, and the severe, debilitating nausea that once defined the cancer experience is significantly lessened.

Furthermore, these treatments work where chemotherapy fails. Cancer cells are notoriously cunning; they often evolve mechanisms to pump chemotherapy drugs out of their system or repair the DNA damage caused by standard drugs. Targeted therapies bypass these defence mechanisms by attacking the cell’s unique structural vulnerabilities or cutting off the specific growth signals the tumour needs to survive.

Challenges on the New Frontier

Despite the immense promise, the transition to fully tailored cancer care is not without its hurdles. At these initial times, these therapies are not panaceas for all ills.

Cancer cells are highly unstable and prone to frequent mutations. A drug may successfully eliminate 99% of tumour cells bearing a specific antigen, but the remaining 1% might mutate, stop producing that antigen, and begin to multiply. This is known as “antigen escape,” leading to drug resistance. To counter this, researchers are now developing therapies that target multiple different markers simultaneously, trapping the cancer in a molecular crossfire.

Tailored treatments are marvels of modern biotechnology, but they are incredibly complex and expensive to manufacture. Designing a unique cellular therapy for a single individual requires highly sophisticated infrastructure, specialised laboratories, and pristine quality control. Lowering the cost of production so these life-saving treatments are accessible to patients worldwide remains one of the greatest challenges of 21st-century medicine.

A targeted drug is only useful if you know exactly what you are targeting. This requires patients to undergo advanced genetic sequencing and biomarker testing at the time of diagnosis. Integrating these sophisticated diagnostic tools into routine medical care globally is essential if we are to realise the full potential of precision oncology.

The Road Ahead: A Future Without “Cancer” perhaps!!!

It is not wishful thinking. We are rapidly approaching a future where the word “cancer” will no longer be treated as a single, terrifying megalith. Instead, a patient’s diagnosis will be defined by its specific molecular profile: a unique combination of antigens, genetic mutations, and tumour markers. The swing towards tailored treatments in Western medicine represents more than just a technological advancement. It perhaps represents a philosophical shift. We are no longer treating the disease in isolation; we are treating the specific, unique manifestation of that disease within an individual person.

While there is still a long winding road ahead to conquer drug resistance and ensure equitable access to these therapies, the future trajectory is quite clear. The era of carpet-bombing is drawing to a close. The age of precision medicine has arrived, bringing with it unprecedented hope, gentler recoveries, and a brighter dawn, especially for cancer patients around the world. Hail Personalised Medicine; Vivat Medicina Ad Personam.

by Dr B. J. C. Perera
MBBS(Cey), DCH(Cey), DCH(Eng), MD(Paediatrics),
MRCP(UK), FRCP(Edin), FRCP(Lond), FRCPCH(UK), FSLCPaed, FCCP, Hony. FRCPCH(UK), Hony. FCGP(SL)
Specialist Consultant Paediatrician and Honorary Senior Fellow,
Postgraduate Institute of Medicine, University of Colombo, Sri Lanka.
An independent freelance correspondent.

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Lest We Forget – V

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The Pilot

Francis Gary Powers was born in Jenkins, Kentucky on August 17, 1929, the only son in a family of six children. His father, Oliver Powers, was a coal miner struggling through the Depression years. At the age of 14, Francis took a joy ride in a light aircraft at a country fair in exchange for $2.50. Immediately bitten by the ‘flying bug’, he decided that he wanted to be a pilot someday, although his father wanted him to be a doctor. By then World War II was on, and Francis planned to join the US Navy after completing high school graduation. But when the time came, the war had ended and Francis missed that opportunity.

However, at his father’s suggestion he enrolled at the Milligan College in Tennessee. In his senior year there he applied to become a US Air Force cadet, and was selected, with the stipulation that only after graduating from Milligan would he be allowed to sign his papers for entry as a cadet. As the Korean war had begun, Powers’ father preferred him to return home after graduation and wait for his draft notice for war service. Powers complied, but after two months he applied again to the US Air Force, was selected and enlisted.

His initial training was in skills other than flying, mainly photography. Eventually, in November 1951 he joined the flight school and commenced training on a North American T-6 Texan. Six months later, he began learning to fly jet aircraft, with Powers desperately wanting to participate in combat over Korea. But he was stricken with appendicitis and missed out on the action.

Subsequently, in October 1953 he was sent to New Mexico to train on aerial nuclear bombardment missions at the Watertown airbase, believed to be the birthplace of the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and later dubbed ‘Area 51’. Meanwhile, Powers was planning to enter ‘civvy street’ as an airline pilot after completing his period of military service. However, he discovered that by the time of his release from the USAF he would be overage for selection by the airlines, so now with a wife to support, Powers decided to renew his tour of duty with the USAF.

In late 1955 Francis was approached by the CIA to fly a specialised type of intelligence-gathering airplane. Manufactured by Lockheed and developed in Area 51, the aircraft was dubbed the ‘Utilities 2’ (‘U-2’ for short). However, he would work ostensibly as a civilian pilot for the CIA. While regular pilots in the USAF were earning $400 per month, this job came with a monthly salary of somewhere between $1,500 and $2,000, with the pilot based overseas basing. For Powers it was an attractive proposition, not least because it was an opportunity to do something patriotic in a new type of aircraft.

As for operations in the U-2, because flights were conducted close to outer space, pilots could see the curvature of the earth, and had to wear a proper space suit, like astronauts. As sunlight was reflected from below, at those altitudes when pilots looked up all they saw was darkness. Once a pilot was cocooned inside his partial-pressure space suit, like an astronaut’s, his full-pressurized helmet was ‘hermetically sealed’ to the extent that he couldn’t even scratch his nose! And if the suit failed or was damaged, the pilot’s blood would literally boil.

The Aircraft

After WWII, with the advent of the ‘Cold War’, the USSR put up their ‘Iron Curtain’. US President Dwight Eisenhower realised it was imperative for the US to look over the other side of that invisible wall to see what was happening there. By then the Soviets had also acquired nuclear capability. While the USAF had aircraft such as the Boeing B-52 Stratofortress with sufficient range and capability for intelligence-gathering, unfortunately the bombers could operate only at lower altitudes, within easy reach of Soviet missiles and fighter jet aircraft. What the USAF needed was an aircraft which could fly above 70,000 ft for at least ten hours at a time.

After evaluating many options, Lockheed applied the resources of its legendary top-secret ‘Skunk Works’ development programme to design and produce a single-engine aircraft with a 105 ft wingspan (measured from wing tip to wing tip) capable of meeting the USAF’s latest requirements. Working under the direction of Lockheed’s equally renowned designer, Kelly Johnson, the team built a prototype in only eight months by combining the fuselage of a Lockheed F-104 Starfighter (a type labelled by pilots as the ‘widow maker’) with newly-designed ultra-long wings. As much weight as possible was saved by providing the barest minimum of equipment, without any armaments, except for the high-resolution camera. Even the canopy enclosing the pressurised cockpit wasn’t fitted with an electric motor to open and shut it, as that would have added to the airplane’s weight. With the ‘empty’ aircraft weighing much less than it otherwise would have, a spin-off benefit was greater fuel efficiency by carrying the maximum amount of fuel, in integral tanks in the wings and nose, for the long surveillance flights for which the U-2 was primarily designed.

The U-2’s landing gear (undercarriage) comprised two main wheels mounted in tandem at the nose and tail along the longitudinal axis, not unlike wheels on a bicycle. For stability during taxiing and takeoff, two smaller wheels were attached to outriggers at each wingtip. These wheels were designed to fall away as the aircraft lifted off, then retrieved for reuse by a ground crew. However, the absence of the outrigger, or ‘pogo’, wheels made the U-2 difficult to land and roll along the runway at the end of a mission.

The spy-plane’s long wings were so efficient that they produced lift even with the General Electric turbofan engine on idle power close to the ground (with the aircraft flying in what is called ‘ground effect’), while the landing gear, flaps and spoilers helped to create drag to slow the aircraft down. During the landing process another U-2 pilot in a chase car (called the ‘mobile’) followed the aircraft when it was directly above the runway, giving the pilot of the landing U-2 guidance in flying parallel close to the ground, before he induced an aerodynamic stall to touchdown by raising the nose. Performance-wise the aircraft could take off within less than 1,000 ft of runway and climb quickly to the planned very high altitude.

Pilots called the U-2 the ‘Dragon Lady’. It was relatively slow with a cruise speed of Mach 0.7, i.e. 70% the prevalent speed of sound. (Today’s big commercial jets fly at speeds between Mach 0.80 and 0.85.) For the more technically minded, the difference between the low-speed stall and high-speed stall was only eight knots. (‘Stall’ in this instance refers to an aerodynamic stall, whereby the lift-generating airflow over the wings deteriorates causing the airplane to descend. It is distinct from an engine stopping, or ‘stalling’.) Consequently, U-2 pilots had to be very gentle with the controls.

Another characteristic of the U-2 is that it flew very close to what is known as ‘Coffin Corner’ at high altitude. To explain that term and phenomenon, an aircraft remains airborne as the force of lift, produced by airflow over its wings, is equal to the airplane’s weight, while the thrust generated by its engines is equal to aerodynamic drag, or resistance. Lift is also proportional to the density of the air through which the aircraft flies. As an aircraft reaches higher altitudes, air density reduces, and consequently the ‘lifting power’ deteriorates too. If nothing is done to stabilize the aircraft it will begin descending or literally fall out of the sky from lack of lift. Therefore, to maintain the value of the lift component and keep the airplane aloft at those ultra-high altitudes, the aircraft must fly faster with the engine(s) at full throttle.

Additionally, as the aircraft approaches the speed of sound, the air flowing over the top of the wing, which is usually curved to generate lift, tends to move faster than the speed of sound and creates a shock wave. However, the speed of sound reduces with Absolute Temperature, therefore the aircraft reaches the sound barrier earlier at a lower speed at high altitude. Again, the aircraft could fall out of the sky by going too fast. Those are the problems that must be reckoned with when flying at high altitudes, hence the expression ‘Coffin Corner’.

The Mission

On May 1, 1960 Francis Gary Powers was assigned to a mission code-named ‘Operation Grand Slam’, to fly from Peshawar, Pakistan to Bodø in Norway, taking photos along the way. As the USSR was busy celebrating May Day in its usual grandiose manner, CIA planners thought it would be a good opportunity to launch the covert photo reconnaissance flight on that day. Ater lining up for takeoff, Powers had to await authorisation from Washington. The ‘Go Signal’ would be received on High Frequency (HF) Radio relayed via Turkey by Morse code.

Departing Peshawar at 0626 hours, Powers climbed quickly through 66,000 ft, then clicked his microphone twice to indicate that he was well and operations were normal. That was the last anyone monitoring the flight heard from him. Reaching 70,000 ft, the U-2 entered USSR airspace from over Lake Van in Northeastern Turkey. But the Soviets were monitoring his flight almost from departure point and waiting for him.

As it happened, there had been a similar U-2 flight the day before. But as none of the Russian fighter jets or missiles could reach 70,000 ft, complacency had set in among the Americans. This morning however, when Powers was passing Lake Van, an explosion occurred behind his U2. Three missiles had been launched by the USSR, one of which struck one of their own fighter aircraft in error, with another going astray. But the missile that detonated in close proximity to Powers’ U-2 was more successful. As the spy-plane was relatively ‘flimsy’ for the purpose of saving weight, the explosion’s shock wave was strong enough to tip the aircraft over in a nose-down attitude. The resulting g-forces pushed Gary Powers up in his seat toward the cockpit canopy and out of reach of the self-destructive switch designed to destroy the on-board camera and film. Still in control of the airplane, Powers descended to 30,000 ft but found that he was now too low to eject. Then a second missile struck the aircraft, throwing him out of the cockpit. His parachute deployed automatically and he landed on a Soviet community farm where he was soon apprehended and handed over to the authorities (KGB). Powers did not, however, use the lethal poison-laced pin, hidden in a coin he carried, to kill himself.

Meanwhile, the CIA realised that one of its U-2 spy-planes had gone missing, so they put out a standard cover story from their files saying that it was an unarmed NASA weather observation aircraft that had been shot down. They claimed that the airplane had suffered an oxygen system problem, with the resulting hypoxia possibly disorientating the pilot. The CIA added that almost certainly the pilot would not have survived, and that was the version announced to the world by President Eisenhower.

However, it wasn’t until May 7 when Soviet Prime Minister Nikita Khruschev announced that an American U-2 had been shot down and its pilot captured. Finally, Eisenhower was forced to admit on May 11 that he had lied, and that he had authorised the spy flights over the USSR.

With the Cold War showing signs of thawing slightly (although the Cuban missile crisis was still two years in the future), a high-level summit meeting had already been planned for May 16 between the US, USSR, Great Britain, and France in Paris. The other Communist nations were not pleased with Khrushchev for agreeing to participate. But the U-2 ‘incident’ on May Day now provided him with a convenient excuse not to attend that highly anticipated meeting. Eventually though, he only met French President Charles de Gaulle and British Prime Minister Harold Macmillan individually, then withdrew from the summit in a huff.

Later, on August 31, 1960 – Francis Gary Powers’ 31st birthday – a ‘show trial’ began at the Hall of Columns (Dom Soyuzov) in Moscow. The pilot’s family was present too. But the verdict was preconceived. Although Powers was expected to be executed, as a spy, he was sentenced to ten years’ imprisonment, with a 100 rubles per month of pocket money and permitted to send one letter home each month. But after serving 21 months, on February 10, 1962 Powers was exchanged for a Soviet intelligence officer named Rudolf Abel (born Vilyam Fisher), who had been convicted on espionage charges and incarcerated on a 30-year sentence at the Atlanta Federal Penitentiary in Georgia, USA.

The much-publicised, almost stage-managed exchange took place at the Glienicke Bridge linking West Berlin to East Germany, and later formed the subject of the Steven Spielberg movie ‘Bridge of Spies’ starring Tom Hanks. Significantly, by the time of the prisoner exchange, CIA chief Allen W. Dulles (brother of John Foster Dulles, the former US Secretary of State under President Eisenhower) had been forced to resign over the Bay of Pigs debacle in Cuba and other perceived strategic failures.

Although, after extensive series debriefings the CIA remained ostensibly pleased with Powers’ actions while in captivity in the USSR, President John F. Kennedy cancelled a formal reception to celebrate his return to the USA. Even Powers’ private writings, in the form of a diary he kept during captivity in the USSR, were suppressed by the CIA. However, they were released many years later in the book titled ‘Letters from a Soviet Prison’.

On March 6, 1962, Powers, who had been awarded the CIA Intelligence Star on his return from captivity, fronted an Armed Services Senate Committee who wanted to ensure that he hadn’t divulged state secrets to the Soviet Union. At the end of the sessions the Senate Committee members were so pleased with his conduct whilst in Soviet captivity, they gave him a standing ovation.

Although the media at that time was making things uncomfortable for Powers, he received the back pay that had accrued while he was out of the country, and he resumed flying but as a civilian U-2 test pilot for Lockheed. Over-flights of the USSR were suspended, but surveillance missions continued over countries such as Vietnam, Cuba and Indonesia. Today the U-2 still flies, mainly on weather and communications missions.

Much later, Francis Gary Powers joined Los Angeles TV station KNBC as a helicopter pilot on traffic-reporting duties. But on August 1, 1977, the Bell JetRanger Powers was flying whilst filming brush fires in Santa Barbara County, ran out of fuel and crashed over the San Fernando Valley, killing him and cameraman George Spears.

Frances Gary Powers was only 47 years old at the time of his death. Dick Spangler, President of the Radio and Television News Association of Southern California, lobbied to have Powers buried at Arlington National Cemetery. The request was duly granted by President Jimmy Carter on the basis of Powers having been awarded the CIA Intelligence Star (equivalent to a military Silver Star) for his service as a CIA spy-plane pilot.

Posthumous Awards received by Capt. Francis Gary Powers (in 2000 & 2012):

· Silver Star: Awarded by the US Air Force in 2012 for valor and exceptional loyalty while being held captive.

· Distinguished Flying Cross:

Awarded for actions during his flights.

· Prisoner of War Medal:

Awarded in 2000 for his time imprisoned in the Soviet Union.

· CIA Director’s Award:

Given for extreme fidelity and courage.

· National Defense Service Medal:

Awarded by the Department of Defense.

God Bless America and no one else!

BY GUWAN SEEYA

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