When you hear the name Ackermann you automatically think of Forrest J. Ackermann of Famous Monsters. Well, it seems Forrey had a younger cousin named Henry who lived in far away Baltimore. (FJA lived in Los Angeles.) And for a short time, Henry was a Science Fiction writer.
Henry Andrew Ackermann (March 9, 1920 – October 9, 1991) was an SF fan involved with organizations like Baltimore SFL and The National Fantasy Fan Federation. He created Scientifiction Association for Boys in 1944. He edited and published Imagi-Music and Wave-Length in 1941-42. He is well remembered in fan circles.
But it is as a writer that I am interested in him here. He wrote for the lesser magazines, mostly those edited by Frederik Pohl. These Pulps took what they could get, sometimes casts off from bigger writers but usually material from friends . By 1943, Ackermann was publishing only in fanzines. By 1944, he stopped writing until two poems in 1950. Then nothing… Is this a shame? We will see.
At the age of twelve he published a poem with Harry Bates in the last issue of the Clayton Astounding (Astounding Stories, March 1933). It appeared in the letter section so Ackermann would have received no payment for it. It is a nice farewell (if not great poetry) to this iteration of the Pulp.
Seven years later, Henry takes up his pen again. Now age 20, he critiques two issues of Pohl’s magazines.
Letter (Super Science Stories, May 1940) Henry rates the issue’s stories then requests material from Frederic Arnold Kummer Jr., Raymond Z. Gallun, Edmond Hamilton, Jack Williamson and Clark Ashton Smith. He finishes with information on the local Baltimore SF club.
Letter (Astonishing Stories, June 1940) He rates the stories then compliments the illo for “The Space Beast”.
Finished with commenting, his first story appears a month later. Of course, it is in a Pohl magazine. “Europa Enchantment” (Super Science Stories, July 1940) is a “brief story” (flash fiction) about an aggressive Europan bird-woman who plans to steal onto an Earth ship and kill the woman waiting there. (The explorer man has gone off to work. He has taken the laser pistol with him.) The birds flee when they think the woman is part of a large group. She is actually talking on a radio to multiple people. Ackermann does a good job of using Europan diction to make it fun.
“Phantom From Neptune” (Super Science Stories, September 1940) is another flash piece with a Hollywood director of The Invisible Men of Mars getting a visit from a real invisible man (from Neptune). The alien leaves without turning Earth into a Utopia. Oddly, it feels like a ghost story.
“Martian Fantasy” (Stirring Science Stories, June 1941) was his one and only for Donald A. Wollheim and his low-cost magazine. The story shows a sophistication after the previous two. A man seeks a dorf, which is a Martian guru. He admits to the Martian that he has at least managed to learn how to block hypnotism. After a lengthy dialogue, the cai, or servant of the dorf, sends him away for a year. In that year he pairs up with his worst enemy who has a time ship. The two men try to kill eat other. The timeship owner pulls a gun but he has been poisoned. But the other is doomed because he doesn’t know how to run the ship. Suddenly our guru-seeker is back at the Martian’s, a year later. The cai, who is the dorf, tells him, “Now we know you haven’t learned how to block hypnotism.”
“South to Propontis” (Planet Stories, Fall 1941) was his only sale to Planet Stories. It is a Space Western set on the same Mars as the last story. (We know because both stories have giant sand lizards called Iguanas.) Don is going to Earth. After a youth spent on Mars, he will go to the watery planet. He came to Mars to help his father mine gemstones. His uncle was called in to help but dad was murdered. Now all the stones have been excavated. Uncle Fred pulls a gun on Don. He killed father and now plans to take the gem haul for himself.
Two thieves have heard of the mine and shoot Fred, saving Don. The two men, Pete and Bullet-Head, take the gems and the boy, with plans of killing him later. Don sees they don’t understand the desert and waits for his moment to strike. Pete finally loses his cool and pulls a gun. They are all surrounded by native Martians and taken to a lost city. There the Martians shove each man before a machine. If he can’t fix it, he is covered in bird lure and pecked to death by a thousand birds. Both Bullet-Head and Pete go that way.
Fortunately Don has been studying the science books his father had brought to Mars. Using a piece of fruit he took from a Martian tree, he manages to get the ancient machine going. It is a burglar-alarm of sorts. It begins whooping, scaring off the Martians. Only he and his Iguana, Gecko, are left. He will now take his gems to Earth.
Despite all the obvious Westerns elements (replace Martians with Native Americans, lasers with pistols, Iguanas for horses), Ackermann tells it well. My favorite of his handful of tales.
“Dreadnoughts of Doom” (Super Science Stories, May 1942) begins on board a space ship where the captain finds his power usurped by a passenger, Joel Rogers. The Gold Dust slams into a Jovian ship on purpose. The ship is repaired on Earth where a secret tracker can be installed. The Jovians are secretly planning to take over the Solar System. Next Rogers goes to the dives of Earth where Jovians hang out. He pretends to let slip the phrase “Sentinel Cylinder”, the name of a supposed Earth weapon. Soon, Rogers is kidnapped aboard the Agfah, where Phox Sci, head of the Jovian spy ring, operates.
Joel suffers torture before letting out information he wants the Jovains to have. He tells them where the Sentinel Cylinder is kept. He takes the Jovian ship, with its massive fleet near by, to a spot in space. Too bad for Phox Sci. The Earthmen have been wise to him for years. The Sentinel Cylinder is an invisible base armed with multitudes of ships, all armed with invisible torpedoes. Joel Rogers salutes his fellow Earthmen as the torpedoes destroy the enemy fleet, including the Agfah. Where the last story was a Westerm, this one is a spy story.
“Fanatics of Mercury” (Future Fantasy and Science Fiction, December 1942) is the only sale Ackermann had to Robert A. W. Lowdnes, another rock-bottom SF publisher. It is set in the same milieu as the last two stories but lacks the adventuresome plot. Commander Montross is an explorer/writer who writes wild adventures set on other planets. His sales are starting to decline so he comes up with a desperate plan to shore up business. “PLANET EXPLORER SEEKS LONG-LOST FRIEND. MONTROSS POST REWARD, PLANS EXPEDITION TO FIND ADAMY, LONG MISSING. CLUE TO NEPTUNE MYSTERY IN N. Y. BOOKSTORE.” There is no Thomas Adamy. Gus Snow does one better and gets him to change the name to Oliver Tolliver. Which is Snow’s real name.
“Keeper of the Gate” (The Acolyte #3, Spring 1943) begins Ackermann’s writing exclusively for fanzines, which he did for a year before giving up active writing. The high level of writing here is surprising to find in a fanzine. A Gypsy man faces off against an evil sorcerer that has a claim on his friend’s soul. He drives the villain off because he is the secret Keeper of the Gate. I could have seen this one in Weird Tales.
“The Red Button” (Fanfare, December 1943) with Arthur L. Widner Jr. is a perfect story for today, an age in which automatic-driving cars are a reality. A unique car has a red button that activates an automatic driving device. The owner uses the button then tells an enemy to “Go to Hell”. The car responds by heading for the Carlsbad Caverns… (That’s more like the kind of story you’d expect in a fanzine.)
“To An Old Faun” (poem) (Orb, February-March 1950)
“The Laughing Satyr” (poem) (Orb, August-September 1950)
Conclusion
Should we feel bad that Henry Andrew Ackermann gave up story writing after 1942? I think we should. He was only twenty-two, barely started at that age. Most of these stories are forgettable but I think “Europa Enchantment”, “South to Propontis” and even “Keeper of the Gate” showed real talent. I would have been a fan of an adventure series set in his connected Solar System (ala Leigh Brackett). That he chose not to do that is not surprising really. Science Fiction was “that crazy stuff” and the pay was terrible, especially at this beginning level. I suspect Planet Stories paid a cent a word so his best sale would have produced maybe fifty dollars. You didn’t write SF for the money. Ackermann, obviously, had a love of the genre, but chose to follow it as a fan, not a professional.
