A THICK JET OF ORANGE-WHITE FLAME FURIOUSLY SPURTED
from the tail of the huge cigar-shaped rocket. The powerful
engine roared angrily as a mixture of liquid oxygen exploded
in its combustion chamber. When the thrust of the motor
reached 55,000 pounds, the missile shivered and slowly rose
from its launching pad; up and up it soared, its tail blazing
red, climbing beyond the evergreen tops of the slender Pom-
eranian pines, heading for the low, gray sky. After four seconds
of vertical flight, the thirteen-ton rocket slowly started tilting
to horizontal position. Within fifty seconds it attained an angle
of 49 degrees and crossed the belt of sand dunes rising on the
coast; soon it was far away in the sky, gliding over the murky
waves of the Baltic.
On the desolate beach, two men were following the rocket s
flight through powerful binoculars. One of them looked like a
product of the "pure German race" as depicted on the propa-
ganda posters of the fanatic Reichsminister Dr. Alfred Rosen-
berg. He was young, tall and fair-haired, and his handsome
face was illuminated by a pair of blue eyes and an easy, con-
fident smile. He wore a tweed jacket, a white roll-neck pullover
and casual slacks made of expensive wool. But his easygoing
outward appearance was misleading: At the age of thirty-two,
he was Germany s wonder boy, and her foremost rocket scien-
tist-Dr. Wernher yon Braun, the master brain behind the
huge rocket research and development base of Peenemtinde.
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