Soviets Send Dogs into Space: Fifty Years Ago Today

On this day in 1960, Belka and Strelka ~ that is Whitey and Arrow ~ were sent into orbit as the first Soviet space travelers to return safely to earth. Another story entirely is how one of Strelka's descendants got into the White House as Caroline Kennedy's pet.

Belka and Strelka closely followed in the pawprints of Little Laika, who had made history as the first Soviet space martyr. And then following spring, Yuri Gagarin became the first cosmonaut, in April 1961. Gagarin quipped that he didn't know who he was: the first human or the last dog in space. Thanks to Russia Today for this fascinating video about today's heroes, Belka and Strelka.

A salute to Kyle at Windows to Russia for his great post on the story.

Escape Artists: The Berlin Wall

After The Wall went up in 1961, many East Germans did more than fantasize about getting across the border to freedom, they pooled their resources and creativity and developed plans. Most were unsuccessful but hundreds did make it to West Germany.

At first the wall was simply barbed wire, but too many found a way through, including border guards. East German generals estimated that over the years, at least 2,000 of their guards defected to the west.

In this famous photo, a young officer, Conrad Schumann leaped over the wall in full uniform. (Click photo to enlarge.) And then there was the group of officers who escaped by crashing through the barricade in an armored carrier. Eventually changes were made to the wall so that it was much more difficult for even guards to escape.


Citizens of the east were quite ingenious and crossed the border in several different ways. Some went right through the checkpoint crammed into suitcases, for example.

Sometimes, two suitcases were joined together, side by side, but connected with a secret opening between, allowing more space for the person.



People were smuggled in various containers, such as the speaker box, above. Others sneaked through the border clad in knock-offs of East German uniforms that they had made themselves.



Many went under the border, crawling through underground tunnels.

The cart above was used for hauling soil out of a tunnel. And of course, disposing of the soil was a challenge: Where does one store dirt without raising suspicion?


Necessity is the mother. . .

This clever fellow swam underwater with a mini-submarine, his own invention. Our hero, Bernd, 28, traveled just under the surface of the water, being pulled along at 3 mph, from the north coast of East Germany across the Baltic Sea to Denmark.


Here is his original vehicle.



Above is the museum scoop about Bernd and his mini-sub. As the story goes, our hero was hired on the spot by a West German manufacturer.



And yet, in the midst of the pain and evil, were pockets of goodness and acts of mercy. Don't you just know that this guard helped the little fella across?

Well, dear blog readers, thank you for joining me for this quick overview escapes. The best story is yet to come. It has been called the Escape of the Century. It's how two families managed to sail over the wall.

Captivated at Checkpoint Charlie: The Berlin Wall

It was this painting at the Checkpoint Charlie Museum that stopped me in my tracks. This fascinating museum overlooks that most popular of crossing points of the Berlin Wall. Say care to join me for look around?

The painting grabbed me and I dug around for a tissue. (Click to enlarge photo.) It covers most of a wall and I may have stood there for five minutes taking it in. The older lady on lower right tugged at my heartstrings. Let's zoom on in.


Let's call her Frau Browncoat. Surrounded by revelry, champaign flowing freely and folks hugging on loved ones, the moment is bittersweet for our friend. Did she lose a family member to The Wall? Did her husband or brother risk his life to escape with plans to return for the others? I joined her in dabbing and tissue-ing. Oh but of course, she would be using a sensible handkerchief. (Painting credit: "The 9th of November, 1989" by Matthias Koeppel.)

By the time I reached this painting near the end of the tour, my travel companions were long gone back to the hotel. I'd been there maybe two hours, listening to the recorded tour in English, stealing a few photos. Eventually I got to this painting and then the bookstore - and oh, were those folks ever glad to see me and my trusty MasterCard. ;)


This first trip to Berlin was early August, 2005. We had one afternoon and an overnight in the city. Several of us had opted for this 5-day post-lectureship tour through east Germany after a week in Warsaw for the Pan European Lectureship (PEL). And our swing through eastern Germany included an afternoon and overnight in Berlin.

After the museum and a quick tour around town, I knew I could spend a week, maybe a lifetime in Berlin. Having to leave after less than a day was painful ~ I had already developed a fascination with the place. You might ask, what's so interesting about Berlin? Well, let me tell you: Berlin was the hub of Cold War action. It's where the east and west butted heads. Where communism and democracy were separated by inches. It's where people gambled their very lives to get to freedom. And they found a million and one creative ways to do that. Oh and I've got photos! Beyond all that, thanks to 10-plus years of living in Russia, I have a personal interest too: Berlin is where the U.S. and USSR got eyeball to eyeball and neither liked what they saw.


So here we are out on the street, the museum behind us, looking west toward the American Sector. Which, more accurately, would be called the U.S. Sector. But nobody asked for my input. Well alrighty, then. ;)


Here we are, looking the other direction: We're standing in the American sector, looking at Checkpoint Charlie and beyond into East Berlin. The museum is on the left. Say, see any familiar faces here? This was a fun memory. Happened to be my birthday in 2007, my second trip to Berlin, and I said to the German youth there dressed as an American soldier, please help me look young and thin, smart and interesting. . .


Important announcement in English and Russian, then French and German. Oh, but why all these languages? There's a reason, but we need to rewind a bit. . .


As you may recall, at the end of World War II, Germany was divided between Russia - the USSR, actually - and the Allies. And then the city of Berlin was divided as well, as you see on the map above. (Click photo to enlarge.) This was totally nuts. But that was the agreement reached in negotiations that followed the war. West Berlin was rather like an island there in East Germany, surrounded on all sides by Soviet-controlled East Germany. There's another story there, about the Berlin Airlift. I've got some photos of that story too. . .


One not-so-lovely day in 1961, big, brash Nikita Khrushcev announces what's going to be what in Berlin. The question: Why did they build the wall? The wall went up because so many citizens were fleeing from the east side to the west. East Germany was losing its population.

Nowadays in Berlin, here's what you'll find where there was once a wall.

That's it ~ plaques such as this one and smooth pavement. These wall markers snake through the city's center and kids ride their bikes over them every day without blinking an eye. But the markers serve as a reminder of where the wall once stood.

Here and there is a cross-section of the wall. Just for nostalgia's sake. . .

And here's a larger section of the wall.

Let's revisit the map. (Double click to enlarge.) The border there between East and West Berlin was a bit of a squirrel's nest but that was - and still is - the city center. Checkpoint Charlie is there and then a few blocks south is Brandenburg Gate.

And we do know a thing or two about Brandenburg Gate, do we not? That's where U.S. President Ronald Reagan challenged Soviet Premier Mikael Gorbochev to tear down this wall, June of 1987. Brandenburg Gate is where U.S. President John F. Kennedy thought he said I am a Berliner in June, 1963. What he really said was I am a jelly doughnut. Ah yes, the joys of meaning one thing and saying something quite different. . . And at a nearby hotel, overlooking Brandenburg Gate, is the hotel balcony where Michael Jackson dangled his infant son to the horror of onlookers below.

Well, thank you for joining me for a quick look at Berlin. Throughout this week, I hope to share some fascinating photos of how folks escaped from East to West Germany. Talk about creativity, excitement and danger wrapped together. Please join me again to visit Berlin, the city at the center of reunification, 20 years ago today.

And how about you, dear blog reader. Been to Berlin? Got a piece of The Wall? Any Cold War stories? Please do share!

The Day Khrushchev Bared his Sole: October 12, 1960

On this day in 1960, Soviet premier Nikita Khrushchev pounded his shoe on the podium during a dispute at a U.N. General Assembly. Or so goes the legend.

There's a bit of a question about that. Witnesses noted that Khrushchev arrived at the meeting armed with a house shoe, as above. The footwear that he's shown brandishing in the photo above does look like a typical slipper. Whatever it was, apparently this podium pounding incident was premeditated. Unless, of course, he was in the habit of attending high-level meetings with a slipper in his pocket ;)


That Khrushchev was quite a fellow. I was surprised to learn that - for whatever reason - he is not buried behind Lenin's Mausoleum in Red Square as are dozens of Communist Party leaders.

Well here is our hero, Nikita Khrushchev some 15-plus years before the footwear banging incident, visiting with friends in Ukraine during World War II. (Click to enlarge. Photo from the Ukrainian National Museum in Kiev, Ukraine.)


Back during Khrushchev's rule, during the height of the Cold War, there was the Red Scare. Standing up to the Communists was was a key issue between Lyndon Johnson and Barry Goldwater in the U.S. presidential election of 1964. Goldwater was seen by some as more extreme, having once threatened to lob a nuclear bomb into the men's room of the Kremlin.


Goldwater was prepared to protect US children from Communism.


Say, had Khrushchev visited Rostov-on-Don, here's betting that he would stop by this fading sports bar. The big letters say USSR and the heading says (something like) THE PROLETARIATES - that is, the industrial workers - OF ALL COUNTRIES ARE UNITED!

*Stranger in Moscow* by Michael Jackson

I was wandering in the rain
Mask of life, feelin insane
Swift and sudden fall from grace
Sunny days seem far away
Kremlins shadow belittlin me
Stalins tomb wont let me be
On and on and on it came
Wish the rain would just let me





How does it feel (how does it feel)
How does it feel
How does it feel
When youre alone
And youre cold inside

Here abandoned in my fame
Armageddon of the brain
Kgb was doggin me
Take my name and just let me be
Then a begger boy called my name
Happy days will drown the pain
On and on and on it came
And again, and again, and again...
Take my name and just let me be

How does it feel (how does it feel)
How does it feel
How does it feel
How does it feel
How does it feel (how does it feel now)
How does it feel
How does it feel
When youre alone
And youre cold inside

How does it feel (how does it feel)
How does it feel
How does it feel
How does it feel
How does it feel (how does it feel now)
How does it feel
How does it feel
When youre alone
And youre cold inside

Like stranger in moscow
Like stranger in moscow
Were talkin danger
Were talkin danger, baby
Like stranger in moscow
Were talkin danger
Were talkin danger, baby
Like stranger in moscow
Im livin lonely
Im livin lonely, baby
Stranger in moscow

(kgb interrogator -
Russian to english translation)
Why have you come from the west?
Confess! to steal the great achievements of
The people, the accomplishments of the workers...

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Ran across this song last week, searching for information about if and when Michael Jackson was ever in Russia. I had understood from Russian television that he was in Moscow in either 1996 or 2006. It's dangerous to understand Russian less than perfectly - as I do - and so I often find myself needing to confirm or clarify what I think I heard.

Anyway, never managed to find the answer to that question. Got derailed by this song. Quite poignant. . . so sad.

Witness to a Public Beating

Last week here in Kiev, I was outside helping with children’s games for our vacation Bible school when I heard a whacking sound. The dull thud continued at length. There were no screams. What on earth?

Mercy me, a rug beating was in progress just over the knoll. I had heard about this rug-cleaning strategy of throwing a rug over a crossbar and clobbering it clean. But here was a public demonstration and – lucky me, lucky you – trusty little Olympus 4040z was right there handy.

Looks as though this guy has his work cut out for him. He’ll be there beating for a while. And the beat goes on. . . and the beat goes on. . .



Speaking of rug cleaning, now that I think about it, this has been a bit of an issue, not that I’ve lost sleep over it. But at one time, I had a small rug in the bathroom and on cleaning day, seemed like a good idea to lean out over the balcony and shake it clean.

Problem is, that doesn’t win points with the neighbors below because the rug stuff flies into their balconies. Oopsie. So then I started taking the elevator down to the back stoop and shaking the rug onto the back alley. Soon realized that passersby found this behavior amusingly odd. Because – imagine, shaking dirt from ones own place onto the street and then people have to walk through that.

So then how to clean a small rug?

Shake it out in the stairwell

Surely you jest.

Or vacuum it.

Vacuum a throw rug?

Fortunately that problem solved itself. Moved to a smaller apartment where there's no space for a bathroom rug. No worries about a public beating. Now that's a relief.

The Home Brewers Cult: Thriving in Kiev

I’ve been sharing an apartment here in Kiev with dear Elena from Donetsk and her teenage daughter Lena. They’re really into homebrew. Never would've guessed it from looking at them. . .

You may remember kvas, the cola of communism, the Russian homebrew typically made from dark bread. Kvas tastes much like cider and has a negligible alcohol content.

Elena’s kvas is light colored, almost clear but milky. It tastes a bit like 7-Up, zippy and tangy. Elena showed me the starter -- rice, she called it. The starter does resemble rice but it’s tiny mushrooms from Tibet, of all places.

So the ingredients are water, exotic Tibetan mushrooms and a handful of raisins. The equipment is several large jars and strainers. The raisins alternatively float and sink giving off little bubbles. That’s probably the chemistry going in those jars. Either that or quantum physics.

After several days of fermenting and bubbles and such, Elena takes plastic bottles of her potion to church to share with friends. She has given up on getting me to drink it much. Still, the aficionado group of kvas-from-Tibetan-mushroom-drinkers seems to be growing. Almost like a cult. They gather ‘round and discuss temperatures, starter and such. They take it home and spread the good news of this kvas, its benefits to kidneys.

Over the weekend, a certain Vladimir moved in to this apartment, and now he’s showing an interest in this particular homebrew. So now he's into the cult too. Yesterday Elena and daughter returned to Donetsk, but before she headed for the train, Elena bequeathed Vladimir a set of jars and starter so apparently the tradition will continue. Oh yippee.

Ukraine: Gotta Love It

Yesterday, August 24th, was Independance Day in Ukraine so lots of folks have today off work. You might wonder from whom Ukraine is celebrating its independance. From the USSR, of course, and that happened in 1991 when the USSR was dissolving.

A dear brother at church, Volera, was telling me about the relationship between Ukraine and Russia.

Russia sees Ukraine as its younger brother, he said. Except that now the younger brother is grown up and likes to think for itself.

That's an interesting perspective and a good analogy. Especially appropriate with Ukraine's bid to join NATO.

Politics aside, care to join me for a look at some of the patriotic promotions around town? These are posted in near our bus stop.

Ukraine and sunflowers. Have you ever driven through fields and fields of sunflowers? Well, I've been on trains that have gone through such fields here and it's quite a sight. Anyway, let's zoom up for a closer view.

This says, Love Ukraine! (The Ukrainian language is based on Russian with a number of differences, including some letters such as the double-dotted "i" as seen above. Plus a number of different words.)

Above is something about the city of Kiev. Let's zoom on in closer.

Oh ancient city of Kiev, You are young forever.

How about you, dear blog reader. Ever been to Ukraine or to Kiev? Please share what you enjoyed about the place.

Dinner with Ambassador Beyrle: On My Wishlist

Earlier this month, John Beyrle – pronounced BYE-ur-lee – was sworn in as U.S ambassador to Russia. And oh, would I jump at a dinner invitation from Ambassador Beyrle. And his wife of course. But more about that later.


The real story behind the story, is the ambassador’s personal connection – or rather, his father’s connection – with Russia. The late Joe Beyrle, or Jumpin’ Joe as he was called, is thought to be the only soldier who served in both the US and Soviet armies during World War II.

As a 21-year-old paratrooper, he was captured just after D-day and imprisoned in Nazi camps. On his third attempt, he escaped successfully and headed east, where he was taken in by Russian forces. By war's end, he had served longer in the Soviet army than he did in the U.S. army.



Of course volumes could be written about Joe Beyrle’s adventures from then to 2004 when he was honored in Moscow on the 69^th anniversary of the war's end. He was the only American in the group of Russian WW-2 veterans honored that day in Red Square and over the years, he has enjoyed near-celebrity status because of his unique experience.

What a rich, personal heritage for Joe’s son, now Ambassador John Beyrle. Thanks to MSNBC, touching interviews with both father and son are at the link above.

Now, back to that dinner invitation. If you'll pardon me just a moment, dear blog readers, and allow me a private word with John, not that we're on a first-name basis or anything. Anyway.

Dear Mr Ambassador: When you and your staff up there in Moscow are putting together guests lists for special events and such there must surely be moments when you're scratching your heads for an expatriate or two to round out the guest list. Perhaps you think, There's got to be someone out there in the hinterlands of Russia who might like to join us.

Well, here I am, hailing from Rostov-on-Don, volunteering for patriotic duty. I would be delighted to join you folks at some special event. Better still, would be the chance to visit with you and your family over cornbread and beans -- or borscht and pelmeni -- some quiet evening. See, I just want to hear some first-hand stories about growing up around the great Jumpin' Joe.

Oh, and by the way, Welcome Back to Russia! Wishing you a successful tour of duty in this magnificent land.

Daily Life in Soviet Russia

Thanks to English Russia for these black-and-white shots of a monochrome era. Please help think of an explanation for each of these photos.

Open wide. Boys line up for. . . checkups.

Care to venture a guess - what is the occasion?
Check-ups before summer camp.
Physicals before entering the army.
Other possibilities?


What's going on with this trio?
They're singing the Hallelujah Chorus - all soprano.
They gargling.
They're catching raindrops two ways.
What else?


What's the scoop here?
He's home from his first year away at college.
He's just got paroled.
Other ideas?

Dear blog readers, counting on you to help out on the possibilities here. These photos are submitted to English Russia and published without captions. So, we're on our own to provide them. I'm looking to you for some help on this.

Today in History: JFK's *I am a Berliner* Speech

I am a Berliner, declared President John F. Kennedy to the wild applause of Berliners on June 26, 1963. The Berlin Wall had been erected only two years earlier and JFK seized the chance to comment, Freedom has many difficulties and democracy is not perfect, but we have never had to put a wall up to keep our people in.

Thanks to YouTube for this fine video, in living color no less.

That's me at Brandenburg Gate, 2007. One visit to Berlin and I was hooked on Cold War History.
This was my second visit - a whole week for the Pan European Lectureship.

Berlin divided. This postcard shows the sectors of Berlin with Brandenburg Gate in the center.

How Hitler Used the Longest Day: June 22, 1941

Mention the longest day of the year and for Russians of a certain age, the Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union comes to mind. By the way, June 22nd is the longest day of the year for points east of Greenwich Mean Time, if I'm not mistaken, versus June 21 for points west. And it was on the longest day of the year, June 22, 1941 that Hitler ordered his troops at 3:15 a.m. to begin their assault.



Operation Barbarossa was the codename for the invasion and 4.5 million Axis troops penetrated a 1,800 mile front stretching from the Baltic Sea to the Black Sea.

Amazingly, the attack took Russia completely by surprise. Stalin was aware of the build-up of troops just west of the Soviet border but he believed Hitler's claim that they were to be used against England. Thanks to cryptologists who had cracked communication codes, Stalin was also provided with the date set for the invasion. But he didn't believe that Germany would invade so soon after they had signed a treaty with the Soviet Union. The first day of the invasion, Nazi bombs destroyed 2,000 Soviet aircraft. And thus began the Great Patriotic War as it is called in Russia.

Interesting how June 22 brings the invasion to mind for adult Russians even now, decades later. Yesterday in casual conversation with cab drivers to and from the airport, both mentioned it in response to my yakking about the summer solstice. And then today in worship service as part of his comments before the communion service, our dear brother Gheorge brought it up. Off-hand I don't remember quite how he managed to connect the invasion to the death, the burial and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. . . but he did.

Rostov-on-Don Honored by Russian President

In one of his last acts as leader of Russia, President Vladimir Putin declared Rostov-on-Don a Heroic City for its role in World War II. Cities such as St Petersburg, Volgograd, Moscow and Kiev have long been Heroic Cities. And President Putin expanded that list to include Rostov among others.





Below is Rostov at its best. You'll see several sights around Theatre Square, an area heavily bombed during the war.

The tall obelisk, Stella, commemorates the end of Nazi occupation during World War 2 and overlooks the Don River and vast steppe which stretches out to the south. The white and boxy building featured early in the video is Gorky Theatre, named in honor of Maxim Gorky, the great Russian writer. The theatre is built in the shape of a tractor, of all things, but to honor the importance of agriculture in the Rostov area.


Of course during the war, things were quite different. Thanks to YouTube, we can see German newsreels from WW2.

Here is close combat in Rostov, July 1942. It's sad to see what was done to the beautiful city, albeit 60-plus years ago.


Back to happier times, the photos below courtesy of A.A. Dolgyshev.

Rostov from the air. Notice the Don River flowing along, 35 miles west to the Sea of Azov and then into the Black Sea.


Theatre Square, downtown Rostov. On the left is Gorky Theatre, in the foreground is the fountain. Both were damaged by bombs and have been repaired.

May Day Memories: The U-2 Spy Plane Incident

During Communist days, May 1st was a major holiday in Russia, known as International Workers' Solidarity Day, a day to flex military muscle with a parade through Red Square.



But May 1, 1960, was likely the most dramatic May Day in history, thanks to the USA, particularly the CIA. It was on that day that (Francis) Gary Powers' U-2 spy plane was shot down over Russia and he was captured live.



Nikita Krushchev was quite pleased to announce the capture of the plane. Particularly since U.S. President Eisenhower had stated that the plane was a weather plane that had simply gone astray. But that was before he knew that Powers had been captured alive.

The trial of U-2 pilot Gary Powers was Cold War drama at its highest. He was sentenced to three years in prison and seven years of hard labor. As fate would have it, Powers served only 21 months of the sentence before he was exchanged for Soviet Master Spy, Rudolf Abel.

The spy swap took place near Potsdam, Germany on Glienicker Bridge over the Havel River. According to Time, The Soviet and East German officials clustered at one end, the Americans, led by Assistant Secretary of State Richard Burt, at the other. . .

This whole incident was quite controversial. Here is an interesting recent interview with Gary Powers Jr, son of the pilot and founder of the Cold War Museum.

And how about you, dear blog reader. Have you ever been poking around in somebody else's territory and got caught? Did you go to trial, per chance? This may be the time and place to spill the beans.

As for myself, I do have a confession to make. Approximately three years after Gary Powers and the U-2 incident, I found myself drawn by some magnetic force - pre-adolescent agnst, perhaps - to the decorative box in which a certain Mrs Bernard stored her cosmetics. In the mid-sixties, I was that family's babysitter and I loved dabbling in her blush and lipstick and such. Make-up was something that my mother did not wear at that time, a matter of principle, which made the tubes and potions and lotions all the more alluring. Especially the mascara. Wonder if Mrs Bernard had any idea. Of course, surveillance cameras were not readily available then but perhaps I had left other clues. But if she did, Mrs Bernard never let on. At least I was never brought to trial and sentenced to prison or hard labor. But had I had been caught, I certainly hope the mascara would have been waterproof.

Soviet-era Photos: St Basils, Babyshkas

A couple of black and white photos from the Soviet era when life was itself was monochrome. Photos courtesy of English Russia: Life in Soviet Russia.

A grandmother sweeping snow from Red Square in Moscow, using a broom made of twigs. St Basil's Cathedral looms in the distance.


A gaggle of babyshkas, the Russian grandmothers. These ladies look sweet and huggable and they are, in a certain context. But I've heard it said that the babyshkas run the country. In a war of words, the babyshka will come out on top. Heaven help the young security guard, for instance, who messes with a babyhska. Or even a grandchild or neighbor child. She will let the offender have a tongue-lashing -- loud, shrill and non-stop. Every adult today has memories of his own babyshka who tried to teach him the right way to be. That's the nature of the Russian babyshka.

I myself am occasionally on the receiving end of a babyshka and her rhetorical questions about my clothing choices. Why aren't you wearing a hat? Why aren't you wearing a heavier coat? In general, I say thank the good Lord for the babyshka patrol. On the one hand they help teach the young. On the other hand, seems to me that for many men, their only escape is alcohol. Because to a babyshka, everyone is a child. Mercy me, have we digressed here or what?

Anyway, the picture above is rich with content. I'm still trying to determine the occasion although the mood is pleasant enough. Everybody's waiting but yet there doesn't seem to be a line. All are sensibly attired in wool coats, scarves tied around their heads. But have you noticed the one person who is very different. Spot him? And then in the upper left corner are a couple of younger women, wearing furs. I like the babyshka, lower right, with her war medals and cane. Some are looking this direction, yet they don't seem to be aware of the camera.

Statue of Lenin Discovered in Antarctica

Vladimir Lenin, leader of the Russian Revolution, first head of the Soviet Union and communist politician still shows up, often in surprising places.

It would come as no surprise, of course, that there’s a statue to Lenin here in Rostov-on-Don or dozens of other sites across the former Soviet Union.


Nor is it surprising that on certain holidays when the Communist Party people parade through town waving their red flags with hammer and sickle, that there will be somebody marching along with a large portrait of Lenin.



And of course, his embalmed body is on display there as it has been for decades in Moscow’s Lenin Mausoleum overlooking Red Square.

But did you hear that Lenin was spotted at the South Pole in recent weeks? Yes! Polar researchers reported seeing a large bust of Lenin way out in the middle of Antarctica, visible from miles away. They expected the bust to be made of marble or concrete, maybe even an ice sculpture. Nyet, nyet, a thousand times nyet! That Vladimir Lenin, there's just no predicting him. Read all about it at Soviet Icon Surprises Polar Scientists.

Well how about you? If you were to choose where a statue of You would be planted, where would you choose? Why?