American History Tellers - Encore: The Space Race | Starting Gun | 1

Episode Date: May 20, 2020

Remember Werner von Braun? We talked a little bit about him in our Cold War series. He was in charge of the German rocket program in World War II. First used to lob missiles and bombs all over Europe, von Braun always dreamed of something better for his rockets. As the Soviet and American forces were closing in on Germany to end the war, von Braun saw only one way out: surrender to the American forces and get to the States.Amid the wreckage of the Third Reich, the first leg of the Space Race would be a sprint to locate von Braun.Listen ad-free on Wondery+ hereSupport us by supporting our sponsors!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge new seasons of American History Tellers early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Imagine it's September 8, 1944, around 6.40 p.m. You're an American GI based in London. You and a friend are walking through Chiswick, a neighborhood in West London. The two of you are headed down Stavely Road to visit your girlfriend, Elizabeth, a nurse who is supposed to get off duty soon. Her family lives nearby.

So who is this girl again? Elizabeth said she lives next door. She heard Elizabeth was dating an American and wanted to know if he had any friends. Well, I guess it's just a drink. If you don't like her, you don't have to stay long. I met her once. She's a sweet girl. Pretty, too.

Well, this is sounding better. Around a corner, a couple of blocks from Elizabeth Street. Hold on just a second. I want to buy her some flowers. Oh, you're going to make me look bad. The two of you step into the shop. And at that moment, a blast shatters the windows. You and your friend brush the glass off your sleeves and look at each other. You're okay, but you're both thinking the same thing. That explosion sounded like it came from Stavely Road. You bolt out the door and run two blocks in the direction of the sound.

When you arrive, Stavely Road is smoldering. The blast blew a crater some 30 feet wide and 8 feet deep in the street. Elizabeth's house is still standing. But the one next door, where her neighbor lived, is rubble. You're in shock. Around you, bloodied civilians are crying out for help, searching for others in the debris. You count some dozen and a half people who appear to be seriously injured. Forcing yourself to move, you pull out your bandana and ring it into a tourniquet to bandage a man's

arm. Weeks later, when you hear the official explanation in the press, an exploded gas main, you're skeptical. You've seen enough of war by now to know that was no gas explosion. That was a weapon, one you've never seen before, hoped never again. Whether you listen to stories, motivation, expert advice, any genre you love, you can be inspired to imagine new worlds, new possibilities, new ways of thinking. And Audible makes it easy to be inspired and entertained as a part of your everyday routine without needing to set aside extra time. As an Audible member, you choose one title a month to keep from their ever-growing catalog. Explore themes of friendship, loss, and hope with Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt. Find what piques your imagination.

Sign up for a free 30-day Audible trial, and your first audiobook is free. Visit audible.ca to sign up. For more than two centuries, the White House has been the stage for some of the most dramatic scenes in American history. Inspired by the hit podcast American History Tellers, Wondery and William Morrow present the new book, The Hidden History of the White House. Each chapter will bring you inside the fierce power struggles, the world-altering decisions, and shocking scandals that have shaped our nation.

You'll be there when the very foundations of the White House are laid in 1792, and you'll watch as the British burn it down in 1814. Then you'll hear the intimate conversations between FDR and Winston Churchill The White House now in hardcover or digital edition, wherever you get your books. From Wondery, this is American History Tellers. Our history, your story. I'm Lindsey Graham. On our show, we'll take you to the events, the times, and the people that shaped America and Americans. Our values, our struggles, and our dreams. We'll put you in the shoes of everyday citizens as history was being made. And we'll show you how the events of the times affected them, their families, and affects you now. The September 8th explosions in London were part of the world's first ballistic missile attack. The German Army's A-4 rocket, later called the V-2, was 46 feet tall

and could travel almost 200 miles in five minutes. Nicknamed a vengeance weapon by Nazi propaganda minister Josef Goebbels, it could deliver a one-ton warhead. Most terrifying, it was so fast it arrived with no warning. On that day in London, it killed three people and seriously wounded at least 17 others. In the next six months, the V-2 would claim the lives of more than 2,500 people in London alone. Despite these casualties, the man responsible for developing the V-2 rocket would soon become an invaluable American ally. In 1944, the United States was still firmly focused on defeating Nazi Germany, but following World War II, the United States was still firmly focused on defeating Nazi Germany, but following World War II, the Soviets would replace the Germans as the foremost threat in

Americans' minds. The conflict between communism and democracy would play out across the globe, but it would also stretch to a new battlefront few Americans could ever imagine, outer space. Over the next four episodes, we'll look at the space race in the United States and how the war against the Soviets spurred Americans to pursue previously unheard of scientific and technological advancements. To win the race and defeat its new enemy, the U.S. would have to ignore the checkered past of one of its most valuable assets, German scientist Wernher von Braun. In this episode, we look at the early roots of the space race and the complicated history of the man perhaps most responsible

for bringing rockets to the United States. This is Episode 1, Starting Gun. In 1945, the world's largest rocket facility was hidden in a small fishing village along the Baltic coast in northeast Germany, near the border with Poland. Penemunde was home to some 5,000 scientists and their families. In this obscure location, surrounded by chain-link fences and a series of checkpoints, German engineers toiled away creating the V-2 rocket, a weapon Hitler was convinced would turn the tide of the war against the Allies. Overseeing it all was Werner von Braun, a dashing, charismatic 32-year-old. The son of a conservative German aristocratic family, he had been captivated with space since adolescence.

He harbored a secret dream, to design a rocket that would one day carry astronauts into space. But under the Third Reich, rockets were only useful for their destructive capability. Von Braun was a talented engineer, but his real genius lay in managing people. He was charming and confident, diplomatic and pragmatic. He knew how to run the giant organizations necessary to realize his vision. The German army had taken notice of Von Braun's talents. At 25 years old, he had been put in charge of the German Army's rocket program, overseeing 350 people. By age 30, he was managing 5,000. Come 1945, von Braun had the full backing of the German government. He oversaw a complex operation of

scientists, engineers, and concentration camp laborers. But in January of 1945, things were already looking grim for the Nazi empire, and for von Braun. The Soviets were closing in from the east, and the Allies were advancing from the west. At Penemunda, in the east of the country, the Soviets were the most pressing concern. Stalin's forces were sweeping through Poland toward Berlin. There would be no possibility of defeating them if they reached Penemunda. Everyone could see that the war was lost, but the SS was determined to make a final stand. They put up roadblocks to prevent their own people from escaping. Skeptics who voiced their fears were strung up from trees with piano wire,

decorated with a sign proclaiming their cowardice. Rumors spread that relatives of deserters would be sent to concentration camps. Von Braun was looking for a way out. But he was receiving conflicting orders from German officials. Some ordered evacuation, while others ordered him to stay put. Von Braun would later tell his team, I had ten orders on my desk. Five promised death by firing squad if we moved,

and five said I'd be shot if we didn't move. The German government posed almost as great a risk to von Braun as the Soviets. One of the orders directed von Braun's prized operation to relocate to Mittelwerk, a town in the center of the country where the V-2 rockets were manufactured. Von Braun was considering a different option, though. He knew the Americans had the will and the resources to fund a space program. The United States, he calculated, offered the best chance to continue his work. He wanted to surrender to the Americans. Von Braun put the proposal to his team.

They agreed. The plan was set. Strike out for Mittelwerk in keeping with official orders, but do their best to fall into American hands along the way. As Von Braun set out looking for the Americans, the Americans and the Soviets were also busy hunting for him. Amid the wreckage of the Third Reich, the first leg of the space race would be a sprint to locate von Braun.

In February 1945, a young American engineer named Major Robert Staver sought to learn all he could about the V-2 rocket. At the time, the U.S. had nothing that could about the V-2 rocket. At the time, the U.S. had nothing that could match the V-2's technology, and the U.S. Army wanted to know how Germany had pulled it off. Staver began gathering all the intelligence he could find, and at the top of his wish list was von Braun himself. Staver was an admirer. That spring, Staver's research took him to Mietelver, the rocket construction site in the center of the country. The Americans had recently secured it.

But what Staver saw there shocked him. The Germans had used an existing tunnel system to convert Mittelwerk into an underground rocket facility, staffed by prisoners from the nearby Dora and Nordhausen concentration camps. For much of the war, these inmates worked and slept underground, in brutal conditions, with little food. Those who attempted sabotage were executed. Their bodies hung 12 at a time from giant cranes underground. Ultimately, more than 20,000 inmates died making the V2 at Mittelwerk, more than twice the number the weapon killed in battle.

Von Braun was in charge of overseeing the scientific research conducted at this facility. From time to time, when his operation was running short of technicians, he would travel to the Buchenwald concentration camp and handpick prisoners to join the team. Staver was troubled. If von Braun was going to defect, it was far better for the United States to claim him than the Soviet Union. But there was mounting evidence that despite his brains, von Braun was, at best, complicit in Nazi atrocities. Staver began to wonder, should von Braun come to America as instructed, or should he be prosecuted as a war criminal? Imagine it's May 2nd, 1945. You're a private with the 324th Infantry Regiment,

walking with some fellow soldiers through a beautiful stretch of mountains near a German ski resort. It's hard to believe, but you hear the war is almost over. Admiring the view, you ask your buddy, did you think Germany would be this nice? I wouldn't mind coming back here, under different circumstances. Yeah, I'd take these mountains over a Wisconsin winter any day. Wisconsin is home for both of you. So you and your buddy Fred became fast friends. You watch each other's backs. Suddenly, you see an elegantly dressed gentleman in a leather coat approaching your group on a bicycle. His legs are too long for the pedals, and he's wobbling all over the road. As he sees the soldiers,

he slows to a stop. Fred is ahead of you, and he's instantly suspicious. He motions to everyone, Get down! He drops into a crouch. You and the others take defensive positions. You remove the safety from your M1 rifle. Fred already has his rifle trained on the man. He shouts in German,

Halt! Kommt vorwärts mit der Hände hoch! Slowly, the man obeys, dismounting the bicycle and raising his hand. Cover me. Fred slowly approaches the man, until they're almost face to face. You watch carefully, but the man seems to be alone. From your crouch, you can hear Fred speak. The words take effort, but they're English. What are you doing here?

Ich bin mit Scientist. Sehr important Scientist. Scientist. Ja. V2 Scientist. My brother is big Scientist. V2 Scientist. You catch Fred's eye. You both know the V2, of course. Could this guy possibly be for real? When Fred doesn't say anything, Magnus continues. We're at the hotel. You must take me and my brother to Ike as soon as possible. He will meet with us. Fred snorts. Ike? You mean General Eisenhower. Not on your life. You're a nut, pal. We are wanting to go to the United States. You and all these scientists? Tell you what, you bring them back here and then we'll talk. Magnus looks happy and wobbles away on his bicycle. You approach Fred. Do you think

he could possibly be telling the truth? Fred shakes his head. A man in a suit on a girl's bicycle just demanded to see General Eisenhower to talk about rockets. It's got to be true. Private First Class Fred Schneikart of Wisconsin was a real person. When Berlin fell, von Braun was near Oberjoch, a German ski resort town south of Munich. Von Braun and his team of scientists feared the Germans might shoot them to prevent the Allies from capturing the valuable rocket information they had. So they decided to send von Braun's brother Magnus, who spoke a little English, ahead to approach the Americans and act as their translator. On May 2, 1945, Magnus surrendered to Schneikart and told them he represented the scientists behind the V-2 rocket. The Americans were skeptical, but they gave him a safe pass and told him to return

with von Braun and his team. Magnus did. It was an introduction that would shift the course of rocket. The Americans were skeptical, but they gave him a safe pass and told him to return with von Braun and his team. Magnus did. It was an introduction that would shift the course of space technology for decades. Von Braun began negotiating with the Americans for his team's transfer to the United States. It was a delicate dance. He wanted to tell them just enough to sell the United States on the future of rockets so they would invest in him and his research. But he didn't want to give away too much too quickly. We were interested in continuing our work, von Braun would say later,

not just being squeezed like a lemon and discarded. He warned his team not to be too forthcoming. But he wrote an eight-page report on the revolutionary potential of rockets for the U.S. When the art of rockets is developed further, von Braun promised, it will be possible to go to other planets, first of all to the moon. The Americans took the bait. Instead of pressing von Braun about his possible involvement in war crimes or the use of prison camp slave labor, the U.S. interrogators tried to figure out how useful von Braun could be in America.

The answer they would eventually decide was very useful. As von Braun worked on wooing the Americans and Staver poured over V2 records at Mittelwerk, the Soviets were arriving at Penemunde. Like the Americans, their orders were clear. Find out everything they could about the V2. Colonel General Ivan Alexandrovich Serov had been placed in charge of the search for information. Serov expected to find a treasure trove at von Braun's old facility, but when the Germans retreated,

they destroyed three-fourths of the site and removed everything of value to prevent it from falling into Soviet hands. So in June 1945, Serov and the Soviet infantry went inland to Middleburg, hoping to find the information and engineers they were so desperately seeking. But the Americans were already there. In fact, they were leaving. They had secured Middleburg months earlier, and in the meantime,

Staver had been busy gathering all the data on the V-2 he could find. Everything was gone, including von Braun and his team. Joseph Stalin was outraged. He railed at Sarov. This is absolutely intolerable. We defeated the Nazi armies, occupied Berlin and Panamunda, but the Americans got the rocket engineers. What could be more revolted and inexcusable? Sarov was left to scour the German countryside that summer looking for any stray information the Americans had overlooked.

A blueprint here, a former lab worker there. Slowly, he cobbled together a dossier of information. Then in August, the United States dropped nuclear bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The Soviets were alarmed. Now the Americans had atomic weapons and, potentially soon, rockets. The Soviet Union had neither. If the Americans put these weapons together, they would be unstoppable. After losing von Braun, the Soviets settled for second best from the German talent pool. Helmut Gertrup, one of von Braun's department heads at Penemunde. But he wasn't enough. The Soviets wanted a Russian to work alongside him, and there was really only one choice. Sergei Pavlovich Karalov had been a star of the Soviet

rocket program, that is, until he was swept up in Stalin's Great Purge. In 1938, he was falsely accused of treason and turned into the Soviet Union's secret police. He was beaten, arrested, and sentenced to 10 years hard labor in a Soviet gulag, mining gold in Siberia. His jaw was broken by interrogators, and while in the camp, he lost all of his teeth to scurvy. The Soviet's rocket program would be his salvation. The Soviet Union needed Karloff's skills. He was released from prison and set to work on the V-2. It would be an uphill battle, though. The Americans had accepted von Braun's team for resettlement in the United States. They had the best minds in the world working for them, and they had captured vast stores of information in Germany, as well as

some completed V-2 rockets. The Soviets only had Karalov, von Braun's Lieutenant Grotrop, and some V-2 components. They were far, far behind. But Karalov was an obsessive worker, and he knew what awaited him if he didn't deliver. By war's end, the Americans had their rocket engineer, and the Soviets had theirs. But before long, the Soviet Union would sprint forward, leaving the United States scrambling. In a quiet suburb, a community is shattered by the death of a beloved wife and mother. But this tragic loss of life quickly turns into something even darker. Her husband had tried to hire a hitman on the dark web to kill her.

And she wasn't the only target. Because buried in the depths of the internet is the Kill List, a cache of chilling documents containing names, photos, addresses, and specific instructions for people's murders. This podcast is the true story of how I ended up in a race against time to warn those whose lives were in danger. And it turns out, convincing a total stranger

someone wants them dead is not easy. Follow Kill List on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Kill List and more Exhibit C True Crime shows like Morbid early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery+. Check out Exhibit C in the Wondery app

for all your true crime listening. In the Pacific Ocean, halfway between Peru and New Zealand, lies a tiny volcanic island. It's a little-known British territory called Pitcairn, and it harboured a deep, dark scandal. There wouldn't be a girl on Pitcairn once they reach the age of 10 that would still a virgin. It just happens to all of them. I'm journalist Luke Jones, and for almost two years,

I've been investigating a shocking story that has left deep scars on generations of women and girls from Pitcairn. When there's nobody watching, nobody going to report it, people will get away with what they can get away with. In the Pitcairn trials, I'll be uncovering a story of abuse and the fight for justice that has brought a unique, lonely Pacific island to the brink of extinction. Listen to the Pitcairn trials exclusively on Wondery Plus. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app, Apple podcasts or Spotify.

The Americans had agreed to relocate von Braun's team of scientists to the United States, but it couldn't do it openly. Von Braun's team of engineers had designed the weapons responsible for killing thousands of U.S. allies in Britain, France, and Belgium during the war. They had partnered with the Nazis, which thousands of American soldiers had just died to defeat. The mission would need to be top secret, and the scientists' questionable backgrounds would have to be whitewashed. Under Operation Paperclip, some 1,600 German scientists and their families were brought to the United States to work on America's rocket program. They were eventually settled in Huntsville, Alabama, under U.S. military control.

At first, there was little money or political will available to support von Braun's research. But in August 1949, the Soviets successfully tested their first atomic bomb. Suddenly, the U.S. had good reason to put all those German scientists to work. The government gave von Braun and his team a specific assignment, develop a missile that could propel a nuclear weapon 200 miles. They began working on a rocket that combined the V-2's technology with a nuclear warhead. It became known as the Redstone, and the Huntsville facility that housed it as the Redstone Arsenal. The new assignment should have made von Braun feel more secure in his

adopted country. Here was a chance to prove he could be as useful as he promised. But he was not happy. The Redstone project was allowing him to prove he could be as useful as he promised. But he was not happy. The Redstone project was allowing him to research new rocket technology, but for the purposes of warfare. Von Braun still hadn't given up his dream of working on space travel. Meanwhile, the U.S. government was keeping a close eye on his activities. Although it had allowed him to make a new life in the United States, the government didn't completely trust Von Braun. The FBI kept tabs on him and his relationships with people still in Europe. One day, a close friend who shared von Braun's frustrations about the rocket program vented,

we can dream about rockets and the moon until hell freezes over. Unless people understand it, nothing will happen. Von Braun knew his friend was right. Unless space travel had popular support, politicians would never risk investing in non-military rocket technology. Von Braun had to convince the public that space travel had a future. He decided to make his case to the American people directly. The time was right for Von Braun to capture the public's imagination. In the 30s and 40s, the Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon comic strips had popularized the idea of space travel. But their silly, swashbuckling storylines hadn't helped people take the idea of rockets seriously. It was all just kid stuff. But during World War II, Americans had seen rockets in action.

American bomber crews and fighter pilots had brought back stories of German aircraft like the rocket-powered Me 163 Comet. They had seen the effects of the V-2 bombing's devastation on London. Instead of seeming like a distant, childish fantasy, rockets and the space travel they represented suddenly seemed just around the corner. Then in 1949, artist Chesley Bonesill released a book called The Conquest of Space. This collection of painted illustrations included lifelike depictions of the moon and other planets up close. The public was enthralled. Other planets began to seem not just like an abstract idea, but places Americans might actually go one day.

Von Braun wanted to capitalize on that momentum. He wrote a series of articles between 1952 and 1955 for Collier's magazine. They were titled, in von Braun's signature Confidence style, Man Will Conquer Space Soon. Von Braun described the workings of space stations, shuttles, and the effects of low gravity for a broad audience. But his articles didn't just cover astronauts and spacesuits. Von Braun also hit the idea of the Soviet threat hard. A ruthless foe established on a space station could actually subjugate the peoples of the world, he wrote. Sweeping around the Earth in fixed orbit like a second moon, this man-made island

in the heavens could be used as a platform from which to launch guided missiles. Armed with atomic warheads, radar-controlled projectiles could be aimed at any target on the Earth's surface with devastating accuracy. This fast-moving star could be the greatest force for peace ever devised, von Braun wrote, or one of the most terrible weapons of war. Von Braun's articles sold three million copies. He had managed to connect the wonder of space with the fear of the Soviets in the public mind. In the years to come, rockets and space travel would further become fixtures of popular culture.

From gumball machines and breakfast cereal to hood ornaments and cigarette lighters. At the Cineplex and on television, over the radio and in comic books, the space age had arrived in America. Imagine it's August, 1953. You and your friend have brought sandwiches to an empty field that looks out over Cape Canaveral in Florida. You heard they're doing rocket testing out there. And off in the distance, you can see a rocket on the launch pad. Any idea what they're launching out there?

Not the slightest. But hey, it's the best free show in town. You pop a couple of bottles of cola and there? Not the slightest. But hey, it's the best free show in town. You pop a couple of bottles of cola and settle back in the shade. After a while, a cloud of smoke starts to build under the rocket. You straighten up. Any second now. Oh man, look at her go. The rocket lifts off the launch pad and you and your friend toast with your bottles of pot. Your first rocket launch. But as you watch, the rocket starts to wobble. First a little, then a lot.

Oh boy, that doesn't seem right. You watch the rocket fade into the sky, careening wildly, before abruptly streaking downward. You can just about see the spot on the horizon where it crashes into the ocean. Phew. Man, I wouldn't want to be the poor sucker responsible for that. Yeah, someone's getting fired.

But hey, what are you doing next weekend? Von Braun was gradually becoming the public face of space travel to the American people. But professionally, he was struggling. In August 1953, Von Braun and his engineers tested the first Redstone missile at Cape Canaveral, Florida, and it was a dismal failure. The rocket veered off course for five miles before crashing into the ocean. In addition, the Huntsville team was fracturing. Von Braun's engineers wanted to be working on human space travel, but instead they

were stuck making defective missiles for the military. And even their budget for that work had been slashed following the ceasefire between North and South Korea a month earlier. Engineers began to quit and take jobs in the private sector. Magnus, von Braun's brother, left to join the Chrysler Corporation. Then, in 1954, von Braun's fortunes changed. The Office of Naval Research contacted von Braun asking if he wanted to put a satellite into space. The answer was an enthusiastic yes. Commander George Hoover invited von Braun to Washington, D.C. to meet with his team. Hoover addressed the group, gentlemen, the time has come to stop talking and start doing.

We will now go ahead and build a satellite. The CIA was receiving intelligence reports that the Soviets were working on a satellite. They were worried about the Soviets getting there first. Von Braun's presentation did nothing to calm those fears. He explained how the previously faulty Redstone rocket could be adapted to carry a small satellite. Putting a satellite into orbit would be hugely valuable to science, Von Braun said, and it would cost $100,000 for development. But Von Braun knew his audience. He added a caveat to justify the expense.

Since it is a project that we could realize, it is only logical that other countries could do the same. It would be a great blow to U.S. prestige if we did not do it first. The U.S. government agreed. They were eager to establish a precedent for the freedom of space, the right of a satellite to fly over a foreign country. Once that was in place, the U.S. could explore sending up spy satellites over the Soviet Union. Von Braun promised to deliver a reworked Redstone rocket that could

carry a 15-pound satellite in less than a year. The matter was urgent, he said. We know that the Soviets are thinking along the same lines. If we do not wish to see the control of space rested from us, it's time, and high time, we acted. But military brass were starting to express doubts about von Braun. They weren't happy having a German so closely involved with such a major U.S. project. So von Braun and his team decided it was time to apply for U.S. citizenship to put these concerns to rest. He submitted to polygraph tests and FBI screenings, all of which he passed. In April 1955, von Braun swore an oath of allegiance to the United States in a Huntsville High School auditorium. Afterward, he made a speech,

thanking Huntsville and acknowledging his debt for the understanding and encouragement which has greeted us everywhere in the U.S. we feel genuine regret that our missile, born of idealism, had joined in the business of killing. We had designed it to blaze a trail to other planets, not to destroy our own. Von Braun's image rehabilitation was nearly complete, but there was a final step in his public relations offensive. That year, he would meet the mouse. Walt Disney's Disneyland. When you wish upon a star, it makes no difference who you are.

Each week as you enter this timeless land, one of these many worlds will open to you. Imagine it's March 9th, 1955, 8 o'clock in the evening. You're done with your homework and all the dishes, so you've been excused to watch your favorite show. You flop down in front of the television and tune in to Walt Disney's wonderful world of color as Walt himself appears on the screen.

One of a man's oldest dreams has been the desire for space travel, to travel to other worlds. Until recently, this seemed to be an impossibility, but great new discoveries have brought us to the threshold of a new frontier. Here's Director Ward Kimball to tell you about it. You've been considering what you'll major in when you go away to college next year. You're thinking about engineering, even though your older brother says boys don't want to date girls who are smarter than them.

But you don't care. As the show gets underway, you're hooked. Your dad joins you in the living room and picks up a newspaper. A new scientist comes on the screen. The host introduces him as Werner von Braun, former head of the unit that produced the V-2 rocket. He's handsome and speaks with an alluring accent. Now here's a model I designed for a four-stage orbital rocket ship. Behind you, you hear the newspaper crinkle as it drops into your dad's lap.

He's stopped reading. Instead, he's listening closely to von Braun. The overall size and weight of the rocket is mainly determined by the 11 tons weight of this top section. Suddenly, your dad cuts in. Turn that off. Dad, I'm done with my homework. Honey, I don't want you watching that. But it's for school, you gesture at the TV. It's Disney. I said, turn it off. He walks over to the television, snaps it off. But when he sees your expression, he softens. I shouldn't have used that tone, but I don't like that man.

He shouldn't be on television. What's wrong with him? He collaborated with the Nazis. A lot of people died working on his rockets. Why did we let him over here then? That is a good question. But I think it has something to do with the Soviets. He gestures to the TV. With rockets. Do me a favor.

Find something else to do. He squeezes your shoulder and leaves the room. You sigh and pull out your copy of Conquest of Space. It usually delights you, but tonight it's not quite the same. You can't stop thinking about what your father said about von Braun. Would the government really let a Nazi into the country? In July 1955, President Eisenhower announced that the United States would launch an Earth-circling satellite, a second moon. The step was timed to coincide with the International Geophysical Year,

a global scientific effort to further understanding of Earth and atmospheric sciences. Von Braun was finally going to get the shot at space he'd been waiting on for decades. But Von Braun's American citizenship and his Disney appearances still weren't enough to pacify his government critics. The optics just weren't good. A German scientist launching the first American satellite, especially one based on a Nazi rocket, did not feel right. And there were politics at play. The Air Force and the Navy weren't happy with the prominent role the Army was preparing to take in space. At the last minute, the government dumped von Braun's proposal and instead chose a rival project run by the Navy called the Vanguard. Von Braun was frustrated. Once again, his dreams of space travel were being

snatched away from him. What was worse, the Vanguard project was starting almost from scratch. Von Braun was skeptical that they could complete their assignment within two years as promised. As a consolation prize, Von Braun was allowed to work on the Jupiter-C rocket. It was a missile designed not to burn up on re-entry. But the project came with strict instructions. Under no circumstances was Von Braun to use the Jupiter-C to launch his own satellite, even though the Jupiter-C's nose was strong enough to support one. Von Braun was capable of winning the satellite race, but he just wasn't allowed to. In 1956, the Jupiter-C launched without a satellite. It was still an achievement, though. The rocket reached a height of 682 miles, traveling at a speed of 1,600 miles per hour.

After the launch, Von Braun approached the Pentagon. He wanted to do it again, but this time with another rocket attached at the top to send a satellite into space. The request was again denied. Von Braun was convinced the U.S. was running out of time. He was sure the Soviets were getting ahead, and he knew the Vanguard project would never meet its goal. But the American government remained confident. American technology was among the American government remained confident. American technology

was among the best in the world. The U.S. had defeated Germany and Japan in World War II, and it had invented the atomic bomb. The country was enjoying unprecedented prosperity. The Americans would build a satellite, and they would do it right. With American engineers and American technology, it was only a matter of time. Dracula, the ancient vampire who terrorizes Victorian London. Blood and garlic, bats and crucifixes. Even if you haven't read the book, you think you know the story. One of the incredible things about Dracula is that not only is it this wonderful snapshot of the 19th century,

but it also has so much resonance today. The vampire doesn't cast a reflection in a mirror. So when we look in the mirror, the only thing we see is our own monstrous abilities. From the host and producer of American History Tellers and History Daily comes the new podcast, The Real History of Dracula. We'll reveal how author Bram Stoker raided ancient folklore, exploited Victorian fears around sex, science, and religion, and how even today we remain enthralled to his strange creatures of the night. You can binge all episodes of The Real History of Dracula exclusively with Wondery Plus.

Join Wondery Plus and The Wondery App, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. In November 1991, media tycoon Robert Maxwell mysteriously vanished from his luxury yacht in the Canary Islands. But it wasn't just his body that would come to the surface in the days that followed. It soon emerged that Robert's business was on the brink of collapse, and behind his facade of wealth and success was a litany of bad investments, mounting debt, and multi-million dollar fraud. Hi, I'm Lindsey Graham, the host of Wondery Show Business Movers. We tell the true stories of business leaders who risked it all, the critical moments that define their journey, and the ideas that transform the way we live our lives. In our latest series, a young refugee fleeing the Nazis

arrives in Britain determined to make something of his life. Taking the name Robert Maxwell, he builds a publishing and newspaper empire that spans the globe. But ambition eventually curdles into desperation, and Robert's determination to succeed turns into a willingness to do anything to get ahead. Follow Business Movers wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen ad-free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app. Imagine it's October 5th, 1957. The night air feels cool as you lug a telescope down the driveway to your front lawn and check your watch.

Twenty minutes to go. Above you, the sky has started to fill with stars. Down the street, your neighbors are starting to trickle out of their front doors and gather on the sidewalk. They've done this before on the 4th of July, but tonight, their voices sound tense, hushed. Your next-door neighbor, Charles, comes over to help you position the telescope. Hey, let me help you with that. I should have known you wouldn't let an opportunity like this go to waste. Some of my students live on this street. I thought we could discuss it tomorrow. Charles looks at some of the kids horsing around on the grass, giddy

with excitement. They certainly don't seem worried. I wouldn't mind being so carefree tonight. I couldn't believe the paper this morning, I'll tell you that. We never should have let the Russians get this far. What has Eisenhower been doing? Sitting on his hands? I wish we'd been first. Still, it's a big achievement though, isn't it? The world's first satellite.

Who knows what it'll mean? With the Soviets, nothing good. You peer through your telescope at the empty sky and check your watch. It's getting close. The news said 920. You get into position behind the telescope. But when the time comes, you don't even need it. Within moments, a small bright orb visible to the naked eye appears on the horizon and comes gliding across the sky. You hear Charles gasp beside you. The kids have stopped playing and are staring up. They're excited, but looking around you see several worried faces. And even though you knew what to expect,

you still feel a sense of awe. And despite your optimistic words to Charles, a prick of fear. Now that the Soviets have conquered the heavens, what's to stop them from conquering the earth? Within seconds, the orb is gone and your neighbors begin to head back inside. Sputnik just flew over the United States. By the time its mission comes to an end, it will have looked down on you almost one and a half thousand times. The space age has arrived. On October 5, 1957, Americans woke up to the news that the previous day, the Soviet Union had launched the world's first satellite. Circling the globe every 90 minutes, Sputnik was hurtling along at 18,000 miles per hour.

From space, the Soviet Union could spy on the United States and even potentially deliver a nuclear warhead to an American city. The country was in hysterics. While von Braun had been busy making his case for space travel to the American people, Sergei Karalov had been hard at work in the Soviet Union. But Sputnik wasn't just the product of a focused effort by the Russians. It had come about partly by accident. Years earlier, a Soviet scientist had made a clerical error while recording the specifications for a second-generation thermonuclear bomb. He had jotted down that the rocket to transport it should have the

lifting potential of five tons. Karalov, who was responsible for executing this vision as head of the Soviet rocket program, knew that this standard was impossible. Rockets at the time could barely haul one ton, but he was too dangerous to point that out to the ministers of defense. So Karalov began designing a rocket that could carry five tons and travel 5,000 miles. His project would become known as the R-7, and it would reinvent rocket technology. The R-7 was a multi-chambered rocket consisting of a central core with four booster rockets strapped around it, each with their own engine. Together, these engines provided a thrust 20 times stronger than a V-2 engine. Karalov's design was a breathtaking accomplishment, but it still wasn't ready to go into space.

When Eisenhower announced in 1955 that the U.S. would launch a satellite, work in the Soviet Union sped up even more. Karalov assumed that his German rival, von Braun, was behind the new project. He didn't know that von Braun's proposal had been taken out of the running, and the Navy's Vanguard project chosen instead. So for two years, Karolov worked harder. Then one day in 1957, a radio report confirmed that the Americans were planning to give a talk on October 6th as part of the International Geophysical Year. It would be called Satellite Over the Planet. The Soviet engineers became convinced that the Americans were planning to

launch a satellite on October 5th and then use their talk on the 6th to showcase their accomplishment. Karalov was desperate to be first. After making urgent inquiries, he discovered that the next R-7 could be ready for launch in time. He announced that the Soviet satellite would launch on October 4th at 10.30 p.m. local time. The day came, and the countdown began. The rocket lifted off in the darkness amid a swirl of smoke and vapor. It looked like a success, but the real test would come once the rocket reached Earth's orbit. Kerlov waited for the satellite signal. Finally, a distant beep, followed by a louder, clearer series of chirps, one every third of a second. Sputnik was in orbit. The news caused fear and consternation in the United States. Americans' faith in their

technological superiority over the Soviets was shaken. They worried that post-war prosperity had made them complacent and that their educational system was falling short in math and science. Americans had believed that democracy would overcome the Soviet Union's authoritarian regime, but now they weren't so sure. The night of Sputnik's launch, von Braun was at a cocktail party in Huntsville, celebrating the new Secretary of Defense, Neil McElroy. When news of the Soviet success came in, the room fell silent. Von Braun was furious. He turned to his new boss. I was in a position to have done this a year ago with Jupiter-C. Everyone is counting on Vanguard. I'm telling you right now, Vanguard will never

make it. McElroy asked Von Braun if he thought the U.S. could respond. Von Braun didn't hesitate. For God's sake, turn us loose, he pleaded. I can launch a satellite in 60 days. Von Braun would eventually get the opportunity to keep his promise, but it would take more than a month before Von Braun would be allowed to try. The United States would first have to endure more Soviet victories, a humiliating national failure, and regarding President Eisenhower, a crisis of confidence. On the next episode of American History Tellers, the United States scrambles to find its footing

as the Soviet Union launches another rocket, this time with the first living creature to see outer space. From Wondery, this is episode one of The Space Race from American History Tellers. On the next episode, the United States scrambles to find its footing as the Soviet Union launches another rocket, this time with the first living creature to go to outer space. you can binge all episodes early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey. American History Tellers is hosted, sound designed, and edited by me,

Lindsey Graham, for Airship. Additional production assistance by Derek Behrens. This episode is written and produced by Jenny Lauer. Produced by George Lavender. Executive producers are Marsha Louis and Hernan Lopez for Wondery. How did Birkenstocks go from a German cobbler's passion project 250 years ago to the Barbie movie today? Who created that bottle of red Sriracha with a green top that's permanently living in your fridge? Did you know that the Air Jordans were initially banned by the NBA?

We'll explore all that and more in The Best Idea Yet, a brand new podcast from Wondery and T-Boy. This is Nick. This is Jack. And we've covered over a thousand episodes of pop business news stories on our daily podcast. We've identified the most viral products of all time. And they're wild origin stories that you had no idea about. From the Levi's 501 jeans to Legos. Come for the products you're obsessed with. Stay for the business insights that are going to blow up your group chat. Jack, Nintendo, Super Mario Brothers, best-selling video game of all time. How'd they do it? Nintendo never fires anyone, ever.

Follow The Best Idea Yet on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to The Best Idea Yet early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus.