Atlas at War! Eds. Michael Vassallo and Allan Harvey. Annapolis, MD: Dead Reckoning, 2020.
Before Marvel Comics was Marvel Comics, it was known as Atlas (and before that, Timely). While most of us today associate Marvel with the colorful superheroes dominating the movies, there was a time, just after World War II, when superhero comics died. Only three superhero characters––Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman––stayed in continuous publication throughout the post-war years until the revival of the genre with the reboots of The Flash in 1956, Green Lantern in 1959, and the creation of the Justice League in 1960. In between those years, comic books remained popular, but instead of superheroes, the four-color pages were dominated by romance stories, westerns, horror, and, of course, war. The latter is the subject of this new collection, published by Dead Reckoning, the relatively new imprint from Naval University Press that focuses on comics.
Preserving and reintroducing these stories into the conversation on history and memory is a worthy goal in and of itself.
The 50 stories in Atlas at War! range from 1951 to 1960, curated by comics history author Michael Vassallo, who has previously written on the history of Marvel Comics with digitally remastered artwork. Most of the stories are about the Korean War and World War II, although there are a few stories about other conflicts. Readers will be interested to see early, non-superhero, work by famed creators such as Stan Lee, Jack Kirby (both responsible for co-creating the majority of the Marvel universe heroes), and Steve Ditko, who defined the early periods of Spider-Man and Dr. Strange. A vast array of other, lesser-known to today’s readers, talents contribute fascinating work as well. However, while this collection of early war comics will please older readers who might nostalgically remember these types of stories from their youth, and provide fascinating historiographical insight into how popular culture contributed to the culturally constructed memory of these wars, the work could probably benefit from more contextualization, analysis, and commentary. Yet, preserving and reintroducing these stories into the conversation on history and memory is a worthy goal in and of itself.
From “Muck,” art by Werner Roth, in War Comics #10, June 1952
This collection effectively captures a huge shift that occurred in the comics industry during this time. Comics in the 1940s and 1950s tended to be aimed at children, but they were not nearly as sanitized as in later periods, especially in terms of violence. During those early years, an outcry of concern from parents, teachers, politicians, and child psychology advocates claimed that comics were too violent and encouraged children to become criminals. The result was the 1954 “Comics Code,” a way for the industry to police itself from potentially objectionable content as well as stem the sales of the extremely popular EC Comics company, which was hurt most by the code’s particular rules. For this collection of war comics, the pre-code stories are vastly different from the post-code years. The earlier stories have a grimmer tone, brutal and sometimes horrifying visuals, and a level of graphic violence that some readers will find shocking for children’s entertainment. The artwork of Gene Colan––co-creator of Marvel characters such as Blade, Falcon, and Carol Danvers/Captain Marvel, and known for extensive work on Tomb of Dracula, Daredevil, and Batman––stands out sharply here, with haunting and haunted faces scarred by warfare wandering through vicious, brutal wastelands, battered by the elements.
From “Death Stand,” art by Gene Colan, in Man Comics #21, December 1952
This collection demonstrates the differences between how comics and popular culture of the 1950s depicted wars compared to previous eras. The pre-code examples make the contrast particularly stark. During World War II, comics helped generate support for the war, with many heroes joining the front lines; Superman, Batman, and Robin participate in massive war bond campaigns. The war is depicted as a noble, heroic endeavor that fills readers’ hearts with patriotism. The 1950s stories are far more ambivalent. Patriotism exists in the sense that the U.S. is both morally, intellectually, and technologically superior to “the reds,” as the communist North Koreans were called. However, the war clearly takes a massive psychological toll on the American forces, and the violence is depicted in much more bloody, gruesome images in which U.S. troops seem to revel in violence and destruction.
From “The Battle of Jutland!” art by John Severin, in Battle #33, October 1954
From “12 Hours till Death,” written by Carl Wessler, art by Russ Heath, in Battlefield #7, January 1953
Anti-communist sentiment permeates nearly all the stories in the collection, although the ideas of communism and capitalism are never explained nor defined. Instead, the communist enemies are portrayed as either racial others or as brutal savages who commit horrific atrocities against civilians. The one glaring exception to this is a single story about Fidel Castro that depicts him as a hero, and his rebellion against Fulgencio Batista as a moral crusade for freedom against an oppressive dictator—the U.S. support for Batista is not mentioned. Despite this outlier, many of the stories speak to the culturally constructed memory of these wars. World War I, World War II, and the Korean War are handled somewhat differently, foreshadowing these wars’ popular conception. The U.S. Civil War is presented in only one story, focusing on the Battle of Gettysburg, drawn by Bill Everett, the co-creator of superheroes such as Namor the Sub-Mariner and Daredevil. Unfortunately, it celebrates many tropes of the Lost Cause mythology, presenting the rebel forces as heroic and noble, lamenting that the war “should never have been.” Some historical contextualization from the editor would have been particularly useful here. Lost Cause histories may have been popular when these comics originally appeared, but that mythology has been thoroughly discredited in the years since by historians such as David Blight, Eric Foner, and Heather Cox Richardson, among others. Without adding that context, this collection might run the risk of perpetuating stereotypes, missing the opportunity to use them in an instructive way.
From “Atrocity Story,” written by Hank Chapman, art by Paul Reinman, in Battlefield #2, June 1952
From “The Butcher of Wulfhausen!” art by Sam Kweskin, in Kent Blake of the Secret Service #14, July 1953
This collection not only portrays warfare in grimmer terms than comics of both earlier and later times, but the stories explore some dark subject matter, including several stories involving the Holocaust. Two stories by artist Sam Kweskin stand out here. The majority of these comics’ creators were veterans themselves, with firsthand experience of the wars they depicted, but for Kweskin, the stories were even more personal. From a Polish Jewish family, Kweskin served in the U.S. Army 83rd Chemical Mortar Battalion and was involved in the liberation of Dachau. Two of Kweskin’s stories, both pre-code, not only depict the horror of concentration camps in brutal, horrific detail but are also violent revenge stories in which Kweskin gives the camp victims the agency to rise up against their oppressors and have more success than those of the actual camp revolts.
As an air power historian, I could not miss the role that air power plays in many of these stories: that of a welcome savior, especially in the close air support role.
These comics retain the sense of patriotism held over from comics created during World War II but wrapped in a much grimmer, more violent package. They also continue another trend from earlier works: racial stereotypes and slurs. These elements are not quite as pronounced as in earlier stories. Many comics in the early 1940s depicted Japanese forces as almost animalistic, with wildly exaggerated facial features. Those elements are toned down in the Korean War stories, although they are still present. Koreans are drawn with exaggerated stereotype features and pale, sickly yellow skin tones, just not to the degree of earlier works. Slurs against Korean, Japanese, and German people are present throughout the book. Stereotypes of American minorities and people of color are not present, but neither are the people themselves. Even though men and women of color made massive contributions to all these wars and that the Korean War was the first U.S. war fought with a racially integrated military, these stories feature white men almost exclusively.
From “The Ace of MiG Alley,” art by Don Heck, in Marines in Battle #13, August 1953
From “The Wind Mill,” art by Bernie Krigstein, in War Adventures #8, September 1952
As an air power historian, I could not miss the role that air power plays in many of these stories: that of a welcome savior, especially in the close air support role. Soldiers on the ground long for airstrikes and celebrate them when they happen. Cultural differences between services are explored, as in one story, “The Wind Mill,” about an arrogant fighter jock who learns to love his rotary-wing-pilot colleagues when they save him after he is shot down. A similar, more touching story involves another combat pilot who is reluctant to fly cargo planes in the Berlin Airlift but changes his mind after seeing the people he’s helping. Air-to-air combat is scarce in these stories, but there is one chapter on: “The Ace of MiG Alley,” drawn by Don Heck, the co-creator of classic Marvel characters like Iron Man, Black Widow, and Hawkeye. The story does not mention the F-86 Sabre at all––the plane that tangled with Soviet-made MiG-15s the most during the Korean War, in iconic air battles––but focuses on Marines Corps F2H Banshee pilots, who in real life, did not score any victories against enemy MiGs.
From “The Ace of MiG Alley,” art by Don Heck, in Marines in Battle #13, August 1953
Vassallo provides a beneficial introduction with some limited contextualization of the comics industry at the time, the state of Atlas (soon to be Marvel) comics, and biographical information about the creators. However, this introduction only scratches the surface. Some additional contextual essays may have added to the book’s value for those interested in these stories’ place in history. Preserving these stories and reintroducing them to a new audience is, of course, a worthy endeavor, but it is unclear who exactly the target audience is meant to be. Those who are nostalgic for this type of material will likely enjoy it, but that is a reasonably small group. These stories do not accurately reflect history; they are written at a very low reading level, most of the stories are not pushing the boundaries of the comics medium in any artistic way, and most of the stories do not even pretend to be factual. But they do have great value to those interested in the history of culture and memory across many fields. What these comics contribute most is a historiographical artifact—an example of what people at the time wanted to be remembered about these wars, or perhaps what they wanted children to think about these conflicts. Because many of the creators were veterans, these are interesting documents—a sort of primary source filtered through constructed memory, nostalgia, marketing considerations, all speaking to how some participants and observers of these conflicts wanted them to be remembered. In that sense, these comics are a useful, if strange, window to the past unlike any other.
Michael W. Hankins is the Curator of U.S. Air Force History at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum. He holds a Ph.D. in history from Kansas State University and a masters in history from the University of North Texas. The views expressed in this article are the author’s alone, and do not reflect those of the National Air and Space Museum, the Smithsonian Institution, or the U.S. Government.
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Header Image: From “Flame,” art by Gil Evans, in War Action #1, April 1952