John Drury Clark - Ignition!: An Informal History of Liquid Rocket Propellants

Figure 1. Engraving on plastic by Inga Pratt Clark, presented to Bob Border, Engineering Officer, NARTS, by the Propellant Division, 1959

Figure 2. This is what a test firing shouldlook like. Note the mach diamonds in the exhaust stream. U.S. Navy photo

Figure 3. And this is what it may look like if something goes wrong. The same test cell, or its remains, is shown. U.S. Navy photo

by John D. Clark

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

George Santayana

Rutgers University Press

New Brunswick, Newark, and Camden, New Jersey, and London

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Clark, John D. (John Drury), 19071988, author.

Title: Ignition! : an informal history of liquid rocket propellants / by John D. Clark.

Description: New Brunswick, New Jersey : Rutgers University Press, [2017] | Orignally published: New Brunswick, N.J. : Rutgers University Press, 1972. | Includes index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2017033845| ISBN 9780813507255 (cloth : alk. paper) | ISBN 9780813595832 (pbk. : alk. paper)

Subjects: LCSH: Liquid propellants. | Liquid propellantsHistory. | Rockets (Aeronautics)FuelHistory.

Classification: LCC TL785 .C53 2017 | DDC 629.47/522dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017033845

Copyright 2017 by Rutgers, the State University

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This book is dedicated to my wife Inga, who heckled me into writing it with such wifely remarks as, You talk a hell of a fine history. Now set yourself down in front of the typewriterand write the damned thing!

by Isaac Asimov

I first met John in 1942 when I came to Philadelphia to live. Oh, I had known ofhim before. Back in 1937, he had published a pair of science fiction shorts, Minus Planet and Space Blister, which had hit me right between the eyes. The first one, in particular, was the earliest science fiction story I know of which dealt with anti-matter in realistic fashion.

Apparently, John was satisfied with that pair and didnt write any more s.f., kindly leaving room for lesser lights like myself.

In 1942, therefore, when I met him, I was ready to be awed. John, however, was not ready to awe. He was exactly what he has always been, completely friendly, completely self-unconscious, completely himself.

He was my friend when I needed friendship badly. America had just entered the war and I had come to Philadelphia to work for the Navy as a chemist. It was my first time away from home, ever, and I was barely twenty-two. I was utterly alone and his door was always open to me. I was frightened and he consoled me. I was sad and he cheered me.

For all his kindness, however, he could not always resist the impulse to take advantage of a greenhorn.