Futility Closet - 348-Who Killed the Red Baron?
Episode Date: June 28, 2021In 1918, German flying ace Manfred von Richthofen chased an inexperienced Canadian pilot out of a dogfight and up the Somme valley. It would be the last chase of his life. In this week's episode of t...he Futility Closet podcast we'll describe the last moments of the Red Baron and the enduring controversy over who ended his career. We'll also consider some unwanted name changes and puzzle over an embarrassing Oscar speech. Intro: In the early 1970s, AI researcher James Meehan tried to teach a computer to retell Aesop's fables. In 1983, Jacob Henderson appealed a burglary conviction on the ground that the indictment was illiterate. Sources for our feature on the death of Manfred von Richthofen: Norman Franks and Alan Bennett, The Red Baron's Last Flight: A Mystery Investigated, 1998. Dale M. Titler, The Day the Red Baron Died, 1990. P.J. Carisella and James W. Ryan, Who Killed the Red Baron?, 1969. Dan Hampton, Lords of the Sky: Fighter Pilots and Air Combat, From the Red Baron to the F-16, 2014. Nicolas Wright, The Red Baron, 1977. Floyd Phillips Gibbons, The Red Knight of Germany: The Story of Baron von Richthofen, Germany's Great War Bird, 1959. Bob Gordon, "The Fearless Canadian Flier Who Led the Red Baron to His Death," Aviation History 31:2 (November 2020). O'Brien Browne, "Deadly Duo," Aviation History 24:1 (September 2013), 44-49. O'Brien Browne, "Shooting Down a Legend," MHQ: The Quarterly Journal of Military History 23:2 (Winter 2011), 66. James S. Corum, "The Other Richthofen," World War II 23:3 (August/September 2008) 28-37. Jonathan M. Young, "Against DNIF: Examining von Richthofen's Fate," Air Power History 53:4 (Winter 2006), 20-27. A.D. Harvey, "Why Was the Red Baron's Fokker Painted Red? Decoding the Way Aeroplanes Were Painted in the First World War," War in History 8:3 (July 2001), 323-340. Henning Allmers, "Manfred Freiherr von Richthofen's Medical Record -- Was the 'Red Baron' Fit to Fly?" Lancet 354:9177 (Aug. 7, 1999), 502-504. M. Geoffrey Miller, "The Death of Manfred von Richthofen: Who Fired the Fatal Shot?" Sabretache: The Journal and Proceedings of the Military History Society of Australia 39:2 (June 1998), 16-29. Carl Dienstbach, "Fighting in a Three-Decker Airplane," Popular Science Monthly 93:3 (September 1918), 386-387. Laurence La Tourette Driggs, "Aces Among Aces," National Geographic 33:6 (June 1918), 568-580. Tom Gilling, "Who Shot Down Manfred von Richthofen, Germany's Fearsome 'Red Baron'?" The Australian, March 30, 2021. Catherine and Michael Greenham, "How the Red Baron Met His Fate," [Durban] Mercury, April 30, 2018. "Lord Ashcroft: Why We Should Salute the Red Baron, the German Flying Ace Who Killed 73 British Servicemen," Telegraph, April 22, 2018. Todd Leopold, "Who Really Killed the Red Baron? Account Offers New Wrinkle," CNN, Oct. 19, 2015. Chris Must, "Who Killed the Red Baron?" Smiths Falls [Ont.] EMC, April 9, 2009. Brian Bergman, "Wings of a Hero," Maclean's 118:7 (Feb. 14, 2005), 37. Randy Boswell, "Red Baron Was a 'Sitting Duck,'" Vancouver Sun, Sept. 21, 2004. Evan Hadingham, "Who Killed the Red Baron?" NOVA, September 2003. "Red Baron Kill Questioned," [Sarnia, Ont.] Observer, Feb. 5, 2003. "Capt. Richthofen Killed: On This Day, 23 April 1918," Times, April 23, 1996. Donald Jones, "Did He or Didn't He Kill the Red Baron," Toronto Star, Dec. 1, 1990. Kathryn Watterson, "War Ace Still Bears Witness to History," New York Times, Oct. 9, 1988. William E. Burrows, "Here He Is in His Fokker Triplane -- The Red Baron," New York Times, April 7, 1968. "Capt. Brown, Flyer, Killed Richthofen," New York Times, March 10, 1944. "Who Killed Richthofen?" [Brisbane, Qld.] Courier-Mail, Dec. 8, 1937 T.A. Trevethan, "The Killing of Richthofen," Brisbane Courier, Feb. 20, 1930. A. Roy Brown, "My Fight With Richthofen," Minneapolis Sunday Tribune, June 3, 1928. Floyd Gibbons, "The Red Knight of Germany," [Washington D.C.] Evening Star, June 13, 1927. "Says Canadians Shot Richthofen in Lines," New York Times, Nov. 29, 1925. Harold Callender, "Knightly Foemen Honored in War," New York Times, Nov. 29, 1925. "Richthofen's Fate," [Adelaide] Register, March 4, 1925. "Slayer of Von Richthofen," New York Times, June 10, 1918. "Who Killed Richthofen?" [Sydney] Daily Telegraph, April 26, 1918. "Honor Richthofen," New York Times, April 25, 1918. "Richthofen Died With Bullet in Heart Fighting in the Air," New York Tribune, April 24, 1918. "Who Killed the Red Baron?" NOVA, June 2, 2013. Amanda Rebbeck, "Who Killed the Red Baron?" Australian War Memorial, Feb. 6, 2008. Listener mail: "Icelandic Name," Wikipedia (accessed June 18, 2021). "Patronymic," Wikipedia (accessed June 18, 2021). Andie Sophia Fontaine, "Two Icelandic Sisters Fight to Determine Their Own Surnames," Reykjavik Grapevine, Oct. 14, 2019. Jon Henley, "Icelandic Girls Can't Be Called Harriet, Government Tells Family," Guardian, June 26, 2014. "Harriet Finally Gets Her Passport," Iceland Monitor, Aug. 28, 2015. "Dweezil Zappa," Wikipedia (accessed June 18, 2021). This week's lateral thinking puzzle was contributed by listener Kelly Schoettlin, who sent this corroborating link (warning -- this spoils the puzzle). You can listen using the player above, download this episode directly, or subscribe on Google Podcasts, on Apple Podcasts, or via the RSS feed at https://futilitycloset.libsyn.com/rss. Please consider becoming a patron of Futility Closet -- you can choose the amount you want to pledge, and we've set up some rewards to help thank you for your support. You can also make a one-time donation on the Support Us page of the Futility Closet website. Many thanks to Doug Ross for the music in this episode. If you have any questions or comments you can reach us at podcast@futilitycloset.com. Thanks for listening!
Transcript
Discussion (0)
Welcome to the Futility Closet podcast, forgotten stories from the pages of history.
Visit us online to sample more than 11,000 quirky curiosities from computer fables to
an illiterate indictment.
This is episode 348.
I'm Greg Ross.
And I'm Sharon Ross.
In 1918, German flying ace Manfred von Richthofen chased an inexperienced Canadian pilot out of a dogfight and up the Somme Valley. It would be the last chase of his life. In today's show,
we'll describe the last moments of the Red Baron, and the enduring controversy over who ended his career.
We'll also consider some unwanted name changes, and puzzle over an embarrassing Oscar speech.
April 21, 1918, dawned cold in northern France, with a wind out of the east. Manfred von Richthofen,
11 days short of his 26th birthday, had racked up 80 victories in three years of air fighting,
winning a formidable reputation among pilots on both sides. Today, he received word of English
planes at the front and took off leading two flights of aircraft. They tangled with two RE-8 reconnaissance planes
near the little town of Amel and found themselves attacked by anti-aircraft fire, and the white
puffs attracted a formation of eight Sopwith camels led by Captain Roy Brown. As the two groups met,
one of May's pilots climbed above the fray. That was 22-year-old Wilfred Wap May, an old school friend of Brown's,
who was relatively inexperienced in combat. Brown had ordered him to stay out of any fight.
He could observe from above, but should run for home if attacked. If Wap May sounds familiar,
we met him in episode 277. He was the pilot called in to help hunt the Mad Trapper of Rat River in northern Canada in 1932.
May stayed above 12,000 feet while Brown led seven camels against the Germans and a full-on
dogfight developed, watched by thousands of troops on the ground. May stayed above the fighting as
he'd been ordered, but when he saw a German triplane doing the same, the temptation was too
great, and May dove after it
into what he called a regular beehive of enemy aircraft. He wrote,
The fight was at close quarters. Enemy aircraft were coming at me from all sides. I seemed to be
missing some of them by inches, and there seemed so many that I thought the best thing to do was
to go into a tight, vertical turn, hold my guns open, and spray as many of them as I could.
Unfortunately, he succeeded only in jamming both guns.
When he couldn't clear them, he dove out of the fight and headed west for home.
He was feeling pleased at having extricated himself when suddenly a plane behind him opened fire.
As he tried to dodge the attacker, he saw it was a red triplane.
He wrote later,
Had I known it was von Richthofen, I should probably have passed out on the spot.
The man May had attacked was the Red Baron's cousin, Wolfram, another inexperienced pilot,
and the Baron had seen it happen. He dove after May, who began evasive tactics as the Baron
chased him headlong up the Somme Valley and over Allied lines. Back in the dogfight,
headlong up the Somme Valley and over Allied lines. Back in the dogfight, Roy Brown saw his friend's danger. He was engaged with two triplanes himself, but he broke away and dove after the pair
from a height of 5,000 feet as they raced along the river valley. Richthofen was closing on May
as Brown dropped out of the sky. He fixed the Baron in his sights, let go one sustained burst
of fire, and thought he saw the German pilot slump in his
cockpit. Then his momentum carried him past and down. He pulled back to avoid the ground and lost
sight of the triplane behind a row of trees. He felt sure he'd hit his target, and as he was now
low on both fuel and ammunition, he decided to fly home to Bertongl. But the Baron kept chasing
May up the river valley, at treetop level now,
firing repeatedly and so close that the ground troops below them held their fire for fear of
hitting May's camel. May wrote, I kept dodging and spinning down until I ran out of sky and had to
hedge hop along the ground. Richthofen was firing continually, and the only thing that saved me was
my poor flying. I didn't know what I was going to do, and I don't suppose Richthofen could figure this out either. I started up the Sum
Valley at a very low altitude, with Richthofen close on my tail. I went around a curve in the
river, just near Korbi, but Richthofen beat me to it by cutting over a hill, and at that point I was
a sitting duck, too low down between the banks to turn away. I felt he had me cold and I had to
restrain myself from pushing the stick forward and disappearing into the river. I was sure this was
the end. The two had been racing along the north side of the river, the baron's triplane matching
May's every turn. As the stream turned away southward, May broke away and roared up Moulin
Cour Ridge, and Australian ground gunners finally had a clear shot at the
pursuing triplane. As the Baron raced up the slope, gun emplacements and even riflemen below
opened fire. Pieces were seen to fly from the forward section of Richthofen's plane, but he
seemed determined to get his kill before turning for home. As few as 30 feet separated the planes
as the Baron sought the decisive range. But finally, one of
his guns jammed, and he broke off his pursuit and banked east, back toward his own lines. As he did
so, the Australian gunners opened up again, firing thousands of rounds, and, in the words of one
gunner, a rain of death bespattered him. The triplane pulled up abruptly, and the engine roared.
The Baron's head jerked sharply backward, and he tore off his goggles and flung them over the side. Then the triplane dropped into a side slip, glided onto
the hill, bounced, and came to rest just off the north side of the Bray-Corby road. May flew on
northward and managed to rejoin Brown about a mile beyond the crash site, and the two pilots flew home
together. When Richthofen's body was identified,
nearby British squadrons sent wreaths to mark their respect. One read,
To our gallant and worthy foe. The British aviation writer C.G. Gray wrote,
There is not one in the Corps who would not gladly have killed him, but there is not one who would not equally gladly have shaken hands with him had he been brought down without being
killed, or who would not so have shaken hands if brought down by him. After an autopsy, the body was interred in French soil,
and on April 23, a British pilot dropped a metal canister over the German lines. It contained two
photographs of the Baron in death and one of Australian troops firing a farewell salute over
his grave. A message read, To the German Flying Corps, Rittmeister Baron Manfred
von Richthofen was killed in aerial combat on April 21, 1918. He was buried with full military
honors from the British Royal Air Force. Almost immediately, a controversy arose as to who ought
to receive credit for the victory. The Royal Air Force credited Roy Brown, who had fired a long
burst while diving on Richthofen from above.
Watt May reported that Brown had shot down a red triplane that had been pursuing him and that May had seen it crash. But these reports don't match the facts. Hundreds of Australians had seen the
chase continue past this point as Richthofen pursued May up the Somme Valley. Given the
severity of the wound, pathologists say that Richthofen could not have survived more than a
few seconds after the fatal shot. The bullet had entered his right side at about the ninth rib,
passed through his chest, and exited slightly higher, near his left nipple. So it seems that
he must have been wounded closer to the crash site. But the British doctors who examined the
body disagreed as to whether the fatal shot had come from the air or the ground. The bullet was
discovered by a medical
orderly named E.J. McCarty as he pulled a wallet out of Richthofen's breast pocket. That might seem
promising, but as it happens, every likely gunner, both in the air and on the ground that day,
was using the same type of ammunition, a 7.7 millimeter round known as the 303 British.
Conceivably, ballistic markings on the individual slug could have
linked it to a particular weapon, but McCarty kept the bullet as a souvenir and then eventually lost
it, so we're reduced to reconstructing the events of the chase to decide which attacker is most
likely to have brought down Richthofen. The first possibility is the two RE-8 observation planes that
the Baron encountered that morning. Major Leslie Beavis, commanding officer of the
53rd Battery, suggested that fire from one of these had brought down the Baron. This seems
almost impossible, as the wounded man could not have undertaken the whole dogfight and chase
that followed. He probably died less than a minute after the bullet passed through his chest.
Next is Roy Brown. Brown's fire as he dove to rescue May would have come from above and behind
Richthofen, while we know the fatal bullet entered from below and to the right. A few other airmen
claimed to have witnessed Brown succeed, but none of these was in a good enough position to be sure.
And again, the Baron continued to fly for two miles beyond that point, so this is still too
early for the injury to take place. When Brown left the picture, Australian troops
began to fire at Richthofen from the ground. The best candidates were positioned on the
Mourlancourt Ridge, which May began to climb as the Sum River turned abruptly south. Robert Buey,
a Lewis gunner of the 53rd Battery, wrote to Australian newspapers in 1956 that he and another
gunner, W.J. Evans, had fired at a German plane that was chasing a British one toward their position.
He wrote,
I started firing at the body of the German pilot directly through my peep sight.
Fragments flew from the plane and it lessened speed.
It came down a few hundred yards away.
But most analysts place Buey and Evans almost squarely in front of the Baron's oncoming plane,
which makes it hard for them to have fired the fatal shot which came from the side. Alfred Franklin, an English gunner leading an Australian anti-aircraft
battery, claimed to have shot down the Baron with his Lewis gun, but it appears that Franklin was
confusing the downing of Richthofen with that of another German airplane a day later and in a
slightly different location. Analysis shows that Franklin had read about Richthofen's death two days afterward, seen the word yesterday in the report, and miscalculated the date.
But another gunner on the ridge seems to have a promising claim. Sergeant Cedric Popkin,
a Vickers gunner with the 24th Machine Gun Company, had fired at Richthofen's triplane
as it came up the ridge. Apparently he missed on his first attempt, but when Richthofen gave
up the chase and turned back toward his own lines, Popkin fired again and, as he said, observed at once that my fire took effect.
At that moment, Richthofen was banking to his right, and this would have put him in the right
position to receive the fatal wound observed in the post-mortem. If it was Popkin who brought him
down, the shot was either very lucky or very skillful, as the distance was about 600 yards,
but the fact that the bullet was caught in Richthofen's clothing for McCarty to find
suggests that it had been fired from a relatively long range. Popkin told the Brisbane Courier in
1964, I am fairly certain it was my fire which caused the baron to crash, but it would be
impossible to say definitely that I was responsible. As to pinpointing without doubt the man who fired the fatal shot,
the controversy will never actually be resolved.
He's probably right about that because it's always possible
that some unknown soldier on the ground had fired a lucky shot with a rifle.
The Lee-Enfield service rifle used the same.303 bullet
as the Lewis and Vickers machine guns.
Richthofen must have been shot very close to the crash site,
and many Australian ground troops were firing on him from the ridge. There remains the question why Richthofen
let himself get so deeply into danger that day, needlessly pursuing an aircraft into enemy
territory. Generally, he was a disciplined and careful pilot, following the maxims taught by
his mentor, Oswald Bulka, one of which read, When over the enemy's lines, never forget your own line
of retreat. One factor may have been the wind, which unusually on April 21st was blowing to the
west and might have carried a distracted German pilot quickly into enemy territory, but another
might have been a serious head injury that he'd suffered in combat nine months earlier, in July
1917. He landed with a skull fracture and a 10-centimeter groove in the top
of his head. In a 2004 article in Human Factors and Aerospace Safety, psychologists Thomas Hyatt
and Daniel Orme contend that the injury produced personality and cognitive changes that diminished
Richthofen's ability to fly and fight. The Baron returned to duty just 19 days after that incident,
perhaps before he was fully fit to fly,
and Hyatt and Orm say he went on to display classic symptoms of severe brain trauma,
including an inability to check reckless behavior and perseveration on a given task.
On the other hand, Hyatt and Orm's theory requires that the frontal lobe be damaged,
and Richthofen's record doesn't specify that his was. In fact, he downed 23 aircraft after
that injury. Indeed, he shot down nearly as many enemies in a few months as Eddie Rickenbacker did
in his whole career. Though the RAF credited Roy Brown with shooting down Manfred von Richthofen,
Brown never said much publicly about the day's events. He wrote later,
As far as I am concerned, I know in my own mind what happened. And the war being over, He wrote later, But like other Allied pilots, he respected the fallen ace's accomplishments.
After viewing the Baron's body, he wrote,
There was a lump in my throat. If he had been my dearest friend, I could not have felt greater sorrow. After Brown retired from the RAF,
his squadron took for its insignia a red eagle falling.
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In episode 342, I discussed some of the different rules that some places have for regulating
people's names. Mike Cowley wrote, Hey guys, as always, love the podcast and what you give the
world. Just finished listening
to the latest episode and wanted to add Icelandic names to the conversation, just in case you
haven't looked at these before. In summary, there's no family names. You are someone's son
slash daughter. So instead of Callie, I would be Martinson and my daughter would be Michael's
daughter. And any new first name must be approved by committee to ensure it fits within Icelandic culture.
Stay safe and keep it up.
So, as Mike says, Icelandic surnames are usually patronymic, meaning based on the father's name,
although occasionally they are matronymic.
Patronymic naming systems, Wikipedia tells me, used to be much more common than they currently are,
although you do still find them in use in some cultures and places. And some common surnames in several languages reflect their origins in
patronyms, such as Johnson, Fitzgerald, son of Gerald, Fernandez or Rodriguez, son of Fernando
or Rodrigo, Andersson or Gregorovic, son of Grigory. Apparently, Iceland is pretty serious
about wanting its citizens to have surnames based
on a parent's name. The Reykjavik Grapevine reported in October 2019 that two Icelandic
sisters were fighting to be allowed to create their own surname. The women's mother had killed
herself when the girls were nine and ten, and their father neglected them, leaving them to be
raised by a grandmother and sometimes in foster care.
The women don't want to have either parent's name and instead want to create their own surname that they will share.
Currently, their last name is patronymic, and one of them said,
I cannot bear the name of this man who is just some other stranger on the street to me.
Unfortunately, Iceland generally doesn't allow citizens to change their surnames,
though at the time of the article,
the sisters had vowed to keep fighting for this. And I wasn't able to find any other stories on
this in English to see whether they'd been successful or not. That has interesting
implications for genealogy, you know, an enforced rigorous system, but there aren't family names.
Right. So you'd have a different last name than your father would, for example.
But it's systematic in a way. It's just different.
It is different, yes.
As Mike noted, Iceland is also pretty strict about first names, too.
As I mentioned in episode 342, Iceland is one of a few countries that have official lists of approved names for parents to choose from.
to choose from. Any name that's not on the list has to be approved by the Icelandic Naming Committee,
which bases their decision on how well the name works with the Icelandic language.
Usually, to be approved, a name must only use letters found in the Icelandic alphabet,
and the name needs to be able to be conjugated in Icelandic so that it can accommodate the endings required by the nominative, accusative, genitive, and dative cases of the language's
grammar. As reported in The Guardian in 2014, the names Harriet and Duncan do not meet these
criteria, as Tristan Cardew, a British man, and his Icelandic wife, Kristen, learn to their dismay.
The Icelandic National Registry refused to officially recognize the names of the children,
who were 10 and 12 at the time of the article, meaning that they couldn't get their passports renewed. Previously, their passports
had identified them as girl and boy Cardu. But I was able to find a follow-up on this story as the
Iceland Monitor reported in 2015 that the family did successfully appeal the ruling and the children's
names were approved, with the article implying that the publicity of the case in international media might have played a role. The article says that the official
justification given for the new ruling was that under Icelandic law, children can have a foreign
name if both of their parents are nationals of another country. And in this case, the children's
father is British and their mother has both Icelandic and American citizenship. And the
Guardian stated that for the
approximately 5,000 children born in Iceland each year, the naming committee reportedly receives
about 100 applications for different names and approves roughly half of them.
It's interesting there's a human committee to decide these matters, at least some of them,
it implies that it's not always clear what the right decision is.
Yeah, I think in the case of Iceland, they have to decide.
There's apparently certain rules, and they have to decide whether the name meets or doesn't meet the rules.
But then there are also some grayer areas, like they don't want you to give a name to a child that might embarrass the child.
But that's not quite so cut and dried as whether or not it has the right letters in it or something.
and dried is whether or not it has the right letters in it or something. In episode 342,
I had also discussed a case in Sweden where parents were engaged in an ongoing battle to name their child Ford, a family name in the Canadian father's family, and I reported that
the parents planned to call their child Ford regardless of what his official name had to end
up being. Brian Ford wrote about a similar situation in the U.S. regarding the child born in 1969 to musician Frank Zappa and Gail Zappa.
Hi, Greg and Sharon.
One of those who fell foul of acceptable naming conventions was Frank Zappa.
You may recall his children are named Moon Unit, Dweezil, Ahmet, and Diva.
Wikipedia describes the naming of Dweezil thus,
Dweezil's registered birth name was Ian Donald Calvin Euclid Zappa.
The hospital at which he was born refused to register him under the name Dweezil,
so Frank listed the names of several musician friends.
Dweezil was a nickname coined by Frank for an oddly curled pinky toe of gales.
At the age of five years, Dweezil learned that his legal name was different,
and he insisted on having his nickname become his legal name.
Gail and Frank hired an attorney,
and soon the name Dweezil was official.
If a lawyer could push that through,
it seems odd that a hospital could stop it.
You know, Dweezil is a name.
It's unusual, but it's a name.
Yeah.
From what I remember when I was looking up the US naming
laws from episode 342, we don't have like super codified ones like some countries do. So a lot
of times it comes down to what an official or a judge decides either way. So there's a little bit
of subjectivity there sometimes. I also covered in episode 342 how several US states restrict
what characters can be used in names so that diacritical marks might not be allowed.
And this can cause problems for people who move from one state to another where characters in their names might now be banned and not allowed on official documents.
Jose wrote, Hi, Greg and Sharon.
On the discussion of difficult names in different states in the U.S. having different conventions, I have a fun personal anecdote. My full name is José Maria de Borja de Mendonça
Corte Real. As I am Portuguese, my name is pronounced with a hard J, so it is José.
You can probably imagine how many times I've had to explain why my name is not pronounced José.
As you can imagine, this has given me some trouble with both
online and physical forms, as it is atypical in the U.S. to have such a long name. I usually just
go with Jose Cortreal. When I moved here, the Social Security Office made my official name,
in the U.S. at least, Jose Maria de Borja de Mendonca Cortreal, lacking the appropriate
diacritical marks and hyphen.
This has led to a lot of confusion, such as my first driver's license when I lived in Connecticut,
attributing my name as first name, Jose Ma, last name, de Borgia de Mendoc, all squished together
as one word. I was able to appeal to the DMV and they allowed my name change to become Jose M. Court Real.
I recently moved to New York and had to get a new license.
I was attended to by a particularly ornery DMV employee who could not believe how long my name was and was actually angry about it.
In fact, when I asked if they could simply put Jose M. Court Real on my license, I received a thorough dressing down.
Jose M. Cortreal on my license, I received a thorough dressing down. The name on my license is thus, first name Jose, last name Maria de Borja de Mendonca Cortreal. You will note the
lack of accents or hyphen. I have gradually come to accept that in the U.S. my name no longer
includes accents or hyphens on official legal documents, but continue to use Jose Cortreal
whenever I can, although
as you can see by my name and my signature, I rarely use the accented E on Jose anymore,
for simplicity. The accent on the E has given me much trouble in the past, leading me to receive
documents that state my name as J-O-S-A-Y-3-K, or other such combinations of letters and numbers
when computers cannot process the accent.
I love your podcast and look forward to the new episodes every Monday.
Thanks for all that you do.
This is like Ellis Island.
You hear stories about people arriving with perfectly proper names and just they won't
fit into our system.
Oh, and so they got their names changed for them.
Arbitrarily.
Yeah, so that's what's happened to Jose.
Over and over.
Their name just ends up being whatever somebody insists on putting down on some official document somewhere.
And Roberto Macias wrote, Dear Sharon and Greg, in episode 342, you mentioned people who in different states might need to fill forms using different names.
So I finally have a legitimate reason to write you.
As a curiosity in this regard, Spanish-speaking countries use two last
names. Since I was born in Mexico, I have two last names accordingly. After acquiring the German
nationality, on my German identity documents, both last names count as a single indivisible last name.
Yes, despite the blank space with which they're written. The complex part begins with my son.
Since my wife is Russian, he has all three
nationalities. Given that Mexican law is very particular about last names, my son's last name
in Germany is both my Mexican last names. But in Mexico, he has my first last name and my wife's
last name. Russia uses patronymics. So in Russia, he has besides his first name, the patronymic, and for some reason,
both my last names but with a hyphen. So I'm Roberto Macias B. In Germany, he'll have the
same last name, but in Mexico he'll be Macias K. And in Russia, he'll be Robertovich Macias B.
Sounds like a good idea for a lateral thinking puzzle, although requiring knowledge of naming
laws in multiple countries won't make it easy to solve. I have shortened the second last name since otherwise
the pronunciation tips would require more text than the rest of my mail. Trust me, my wife and
I have memorized the NATO alphabet for phone calls in which the correct spelling is important,
like for appointments at government offices. And Roberto gave me some nice pronunciation tips for Macias
and then said, don't worry, living in Germany, my last name is butchered at least once a week,
so I won't take offense if you don't quite nail it and blame it on my pronunciation tips.
Look forward to each episode. Keep up the great work. P.S. Curiously enough, Germans don't use
the NATO alphabet as in Alpha Bravo Charlie, but a selection of first names, Anton,
Berta, Cesar, and so on. We have also memorized those and use them more often than I care to admit.
So his son is three people. Those are three distinctly different names.
In each country, he has a totally different last name or a mostly different last name.
I wonder if that would land you on a watch list, you know? It looks like you're up to no good.
Or they don't think you're the person that you actually are. Right, and you'd have to
prove it somehow. Thanks so much to everyone who writes to us. We really appreciate your comments
and follow-ups. If you have anything that you'd like to add, please send that to podcast at
futilitycloset.com. It's Greg's turn to try to solve a lateral thinking puzzle. I'm going to give him
a strange sounding situation and he's going to try to work out what's going on by asking yes or no
questions. This puzzle comes from Kelly Shetland, who thankfully provided pronunciation help for
her very intimidating looking last name, or at least it intimidated me. And Kelly's puzzle is, a woman holds an Oscar and gives an Oscar-winning speech where she
thanks her closest friends and family.
At the conclusion of her speech, instead of proud, she feels only embarrassment.
Why?
Okay, when you say Oscar, do you mean an Academy Award?
Yeah.
In both cases, she's not holding a baby named Oscar.
Correct.
She's holding an Academy Award and giving an acceptance speech.
Yeah.
Because she's just won the award.
I'm just nailing this down.
No, you're looking at me.
No, I won't agree to all of that.
Evasively.
All right.
A woman holding an Oscar and giving an, say it again, Oscar acceptance speech?
Where she thanks her closest family and friends.
Has she just won the award she's holding?
No.
Is it that...
Did this really happen?
Yes, let's say.
So is this a mistake?
More in general, no.
She mistakenly thought she'd won the award when she hadn't?
No.
But the speech she's giving is an acceptance speech?
She thinks she's won the award?
No.
Is this a rehearsal?
No.
All right, let me back up here.
She's holding an Oscar.
Yes.
An Oscar that hasn't been awarded, intended for her?
That is correct.
It's correct that it hasn't been intended for her?
That is correct.
And in thanking her friends and family,
is she under
the belief that it was intended for her?
No.
Is she herself an actress in a scene?
No. Is this whole thing
fiction? No. Alright.
Okay.
She is holding a real Oscarcar yes and she gives a a speech where she accepts it and thanks
everybody but then she feels embarrassed embarrassed does that have something to do
with the people she thanked or failed to thank no um embarrassed that So she's not embarrassed at something she's just said?
Not exactly.
Do I need to know more about the role?
She's an actress?
She might not be.
But she might be.
She might be.
That's true.
I don't know if she is or she isn't.
So she won an award...
No.
No, no, no.
She didn't.
So that's why she's embarrassed that she was thanking people and was only mistakenly thinking that she'd won the award?
She wasn't mistaken about anything.
So she knew she hadn't won the award.
Correct.
So then the question is, why did she thank anyone?
And why is she holding the Oscar?
Is she giving this during the like during the oscar ceremony no
and this isn't i keep wanting to go back to a rehearsal idea no it's not
she's holding an oscar and thanking people and knows she hasn't won it that's correct
and is only afterward embarrassed at something that's happened yeah
And is only afterward embarrassed at something that's happened.
Yeah.
I'm sorry, I just asked you this, but this isn't at the ceremony?
It's not at the ceremony.
Why would you do that?
Why would you do that?
Why would you hold an Oscar and give a thank you acceptance speech?
If you're not acting and it's not a rehearsal.
Right.
And you understand.
Yes.
Your situation.
Yes.
I can't think.
I can't think why.
Do I need to know where this is?
What the venue is?
Like of other people?
Are other people involved?
Anything like that? Do I need to know the wider situation um not exactly or the time period no no no it's not a venue you
wouldn't really call it a venue i can't think of a hint that i can give you she's dreaming
no no in what circumstance might somebody do that well as i say i can think
of like rehearsals acting some kind of fictional context why would you hold an oscar and was she
thanking people on on someone else's behalf no no and this isn't like you know any kind of ceremony
or anything like that.
Is she just fantasizing, just dreaming of winning an Oscar?
Yes.
Oh.
I mean, she has an Oscar.
But maybe is dreaming of winning a second Oscar?
No, no, no, no.
She's holding an Oscar, but it's not hers.
She's just...
It's just someone else's Oscar.
It's someone else's Oscar.
Exactly, exactly. Apparently, Kelly says, the woman is holding a real Oscar,
but it does not belong to her. She found the Oscar in the bathroom and gave an acceptance
speech in the mirror. Upon leaving the bathroom, the woman is embarrassed that she realizes that
her pretend acceptance speech was heard. And this is based on a true story. I read an article that
Kate Winslet keeps her Oscar in the bathroom so people can give fake acceptance speeches in the mirror.
She mentioned that she can always tell when people do it because they take longer to emerge
after they flush the toilet and look pink with embarrassment when they exit the bathroom.
She said she loves it and it always makes her laugh. And yeah, according to an article in
Variety that Kelly sent, apparently Kate Winslet does find it quite amusing that people like to pretend to give Oscar acceptance speeches in her bathroom.
I'd probably do that.
So thanks so much to Kelly for that completely harmless puzzle.
And if you have a puzzle you'd like to have us try, please send that to podcast at futilitycloset.com.
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Thanks for listening, and we'll talk to you next week.