Interview with Author Robert Stermscheg

I’m thrilled to host an interview with author Robert Stermscheg. This will be of special interest to those intrigued by WW2 history. Enjoy!

Q1. Thanks for joining me today, Robert. Why did you write this book?

A1. I’ve always had an interest in aviation and hold a personal connection to WWII.

Q2. Your story, Stealth, is also about two men, the Horten brothers. Who are they?

A2. Actually, there were three brothers. Wolfram, Walter, and Reimar. All three men were Luftwaffe pilots during the second world war. Wolfram was shot down over the English Channel early in the war. Walter and Reimar were best known as aircraft designers.

Q3. That’s interesting. Pilots for the Luftwaffe as well as designers. What was their claim to fame?

A3. The two brothers had worked on gliders for many years. This led to a new delta-wing design, a “Nurflügel” (one wing). It was revolutionary to say the least.

Q4. A one-wing design? Please explain.

A4. A standard airplane design at the time had a prominent cockpit, fuselage, or empennage, wings and a tail component. For example, the American P-38 Lightning even had a twin tail boom. But the Horten brothers envisioned an aircraft with no tail at all.

Q5. Hmm, that went against traditional thinking. So, did it make it past the design stage?

A5. It did indeed. They developed several designs, initially with gliders and followed up with a full-scale prototype utilizing two piston-powered motors in the aft portion of the wing. It wasn’t until 1943 when Herman Göring, head of the Luftwaffe, called for all designers to come up with new ideas/concepts. That is when the Hortens introduced their revolutionary design, amidst skepticism from well-established designers like Messerschmitt and Heinkel. Göring, though himself skeptical at first, was dully impressed and authorized the Hortens to commence building a jet engine powered prototype.

Q6. Were they successful? It seems like they encountered opposition from the start. I mean, every new design is wrought with all sorts of inherent problems and supply issues.

A6. That’s very true. They encountered some issues, like securing the favoured type of jet engine that would fit into the existing inlets. Still, they were able to overcome many obstacles and began conducting test flights in late 1944. The prototype exceeded many expectations. The Horten came close to the unheard of speed of 1000 km/hr, or 600 mph. By way of comparison, the latest version of the American P-51 Mustang could only reach a top speed of @700 km/hr, or 430 mph, and that apparently was in a dive. A reciprocating engine airplane was no match for a turbine-powered jet. The British were developing a jet fighter, but it didn’t factor into the war.

Q7. I heard of rumours that the Horten airplane had stealth capabilities. Is that really true, or was it something dreamt up by the notorious German propaganda machine?

A7. It’s not propaganda. Many years after Germany had lost the war, Reimar Horten related that his team of designers had delved into what we today would refer to as stealth technology. Reimar stated that he and Walter experimented with mixing charcoal dust and other compounds, together with glue used in cementing the wood panels. Reimar speculated that this would allow the wood surfaces—specifically the wings—to absorb a segment of electromagnetic waves (as opposed to bouncing off), thus minimizing the aircraft’s radar signature to Allied radar. Anyway you look at it, you have to admit that the Germans—in this case the Hortens—were far ahead of proven designers, German or American.

Q8. Earlier you mentioned a personal connection. Can you explain?

A8. Sure. My father, John Stermscheg, was conscripted into the Yugoslav army prior to WWII, and a few candidates were chosen to train as pilots in their Air Force contingent. My father was fortunate to be accepted and began training, logging several hours in the French made Potez 25 trainer. Unfortunately, his training was cut short by the advent of imminent hostilities with Germany. Along with many other hopefuls, he was reassigned to the army. Months later, in the spring of 1941, his entire company –with many men on horseback—was captured by an advancing German Panzer division. As a result, he, along with his company, was confined to a German Stalag for over a year. Many years later, having heard my father’s war-time experiences (over and over), prompted me to collaborate with him and write his biography, POW #74324.

Q9. I understand that you’ve also produced an audiobook. Can you explain?

A9. Yes. Savvy readers are always looking for the next thing, a better experience. Not long ago we were introduced to eBooks. Well, they certainly have their place and have gained in popularity. But the latest innovation –I hate to use the term fad – is the audiobook. I think it’s taking the book world by storm. Sales of audiobooks are exploding. I’ve heard that some avid readers listen to an audiobook while following along on their tablet. It seems that there’s no limitation for what readers want these days, looking for ways to enhance their journey. So, I’ve engaged a voice narrator, Ron Hughes, to produce an audiobook of Stealth. It is currently available on several platforms, including Kobo, Barnes & Noble, Apple and Nook. I’m waiting for approval from Audible (Amazon).

Q10. Thanks so much for sharing, Robert. I’m sure readers will want to know more. Where can they find you online?

A10. My website: www.robertstermscheg.com

I can also be found on these social media sites:

https://www.instagram.com/robert_stermscheg_author

https://www.facebook.com/RobertStermscheg

Letting Go and Holding On

When we made the decision to sell our home our middle daughter, Laura, was living with us. She had come home from Bangladesh where she’d worked with a mission group for a year. She was excited when she realized we would have to pare down our belongings. Every day she would ask, “What room can I de-clutter now, Mom?” She’d grin at me. I didn’t grin back. I would remind her we had six months before we had to move. She’d laugh and remind me that we were moving from a five bedroom into a two-bedroom house. It was like a cold cup of water – thrown in my face!

But it was reality. My husband had convinced me to follow the advice of the realtors and renovate our home before putting it on the market. We tore down and built up, we ripped out and replaced. We even bought new furniture. The process was not easy for me. I resented and resisted all these changes. I confess I am a packrat and I tend to hold onto things a little too tightly. I had a hard time letting go. I felt safe and comfortable in the midst of my clutter, my own little nest, surrounded by all my things.

And Laura, dear minimalist that she is, set about enthusiastically deciding what had to go. The problem was, she was a little too enthusiastic and my husband was cheering her on! For the next few months there was a litany that sounded in our house. “Laura, what did you do with… Laura, you didn’t throw that away, did you?”

Then came the day I couldn’t find my favourite potato peeler. I didn’t care that the handle was cracked, it was my favourite! Laura had thrown it away. And I was upset. In fact I was downright angry. The potato peeler was the proverbial last straw. Nothing in my house was the same anymore. It didn’t feel like my home, my nest. It had been disrupted and I was disturbed.

I realized that day that I’d forgotten something. My reaction was disproportionate to what was happening. I told myself that it was only stuff, that I shouldn’t be so attached, that it was good to let go. But when you let go of something you have to find something else to hold onto. I knew what that something else should be. Or rather, that Someone. I knew I had allowed my identity to be wrapped up in a house and a lot of ‘stuff’ instead of in Jesus Christ.

I remembered the passage in Matthew, one my husband would half jokingly point me to – “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth …” (Matt.6:19).

I realized then I needed to not only reorganize my home, but my heart as well. I pray we can all let go of those things that don’t matter and hold onto the One who does.

I Want To Be Like Babe

Photo by Danny Gallegos on Unsplash

The wrangler patted my horse’s neck. “This is Babe,” he said, “and she’s been trained as a cutting horse. Know what that means?”

I nodded. I’d seen cutting horses in action as they stepped into a herd of cattle, singled out a steer and manoeuvred it until it stood alone or was forced into a nearby shute. I knew cutting horses were trained to respond immediately to the rider’s cues.

Babe was definitely a cutting horse. The slightest touch of the rein on her neck made her respond, indeed, leap to respond. She almost put me off a couple of times, as we made our way along the mountain trails, but once I got used to her she was a delight to ride.

I thought of Babe one time, when I felt a nudge from the Lord. But I was busy that day so I ignored it. The next day I felt the push again, but again, I dismissed it. I’ll make the call later, I thought. But the days flew by. The nudge kept coming, so finally, more than a week after I felt that first prompting, I picked up the phone and called my friend. “Been thinking about you,” I said. “How’s life?”

There was silence for a moment, then a soft whimper. I heard my friend take a deep steadying breath. “My mom died a week ago.”

I groaned and expressed my sorrow. We chatted for some time and then said good-bye. “Thanks so much for calling,” my friend said. “It means a lot.”

I was so glad I’d finally responded to God’s prompting. But I couldn’t help but wonder if my words would have been more of a help if I’d called right away, on first nudge.

Lord, I prayed, make me like Babe. Make me willing to respond to your voice immediately. Make me as eager to obey as Babe was.

I want to be like David, too, as he says in Psalm 119:59,60 – “When I think on my ways, I turn my feet to your testimonies; I hasten and do not delay to keep your commands.”

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Facing My Failure

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This time of year makes me a bit jittery. It’s that time when people ask, “Do you garden?” I take that question personally. I guess it’s a hold-over from my Yukon days, but I always have the feeling the person is really asking, “What are you good for, anyway?” The question always makes me squirm because I’m not good at it. I inherited my mother’s black thumb. I’m death to fruits and vegetables and most especially flowers.

Not that I haven’t tried. For twelve Yukon summers I dutifully planted rows of cabbage and broccoli, peas and lettuce. I even built a greenhouse and kept a fire burning in it at night to keep a few tomato plants alive. Once I replanted three times when late frost hit, only to have it all wilt from an early one in August. With a season of twenty-four-hour sunlight, the plants that survived grew furiously. So did the weeds. A neighbour once drove by, honked and called out – “tendin’ the weed bed, are ye?”

I wanted to give up, but at the end of each summer, I harvested what had managed to survive. I was thankful there was a grocery store in town. We surely would have starved if we’d had to live on what I could grow!

When we moved south, I anticipated the “game” would go on, but was delighted that there were so many grocery stores to choose from! When spring arrived I dutifully got out my spade and tested the ground in the back yard. But, oh, woe is me, it was full of roots! The large old cottonwood in the corner of the yard had spread its thick underground fibers far and wide. My husband took a turn at the spade but could find not a single spot suitable to till. Such a pity.  

Having an excuse eased the guilt, but I feared my failure was apparent to the world. When friends asked if I wanted their harvested leftovers I always said yes, with thanks, but had that nagging suspicion they were pitying me. I knew I was a failure. So did they.

Then one day, a friend asked if I’d like some potatoes. Seems she’d planted way too many and they all grew wonderfully (of course!). My family and I spent a morning digging up part of her potato patch. It was one of those special times – a glorious morning with the smell of earth freshened by rain and the delight of children’s voices in the crisp air. But the most wonderful part was the look on my friend’s face as we loaded the boxes of food into our vehicle.

“I just love being able to do this,” she said. “Thanks for coming out.”

The power of her words hung in the air around me for days as a simple truth sank in. There were things I loved doing that could be a blessing to others. I don’t have to be good at everything. It’s okay to be a failure at gardening. It’s not my gift.

1Peter 4:10 says – “Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God’s grace in its various forms.” My friend did a great job of that the day she invited us to her potato patch. On that day I started admiring the work of people with green thumbs, without feeling guilty. They have that gift. I have others.

Do you know yours?

A Journaling Pilgrimage for Writers of Faith

Hello everyone. There are only 8 days left before we begin the Abundant Rain Pilgrimage for writers of faith. To register please email vinemarc at Telus dot net with a “Yes, I’m in” in the subject line. Registration is complete upon receipt of payment of $45.00 sent to that address by etransfer or paypal. If you wish to send a cheque please email me for instructions.

The zoom link will be sent as soon as it’s set up, just prior to the meet and greet on the 2nd.

Here’s the link to purchase Abundant Rain –

Canada – https://amzn.to/3KmGRmh

USA – https://amzn.to/3vAZq0E

Looking forward to walking with you on this journey!

Something of Interest, Perhaps

My friend Travis Williams designed the signature banner on my website. He’s a great designer and very generous with his time and talents. So I’d like to ask you to check out his new website, where he’s highlighting his recently published book, Uly Quits His Job. It’s a fun read, about a quirky character trying to find his way in the world (which just happens to be Georgia, USA). Just click this link – https://booksbytravis.com/

BTW, you can download a FREE copy of the book right now!

A Telling Comparison

I squirmed in my seat as I watched the drama unfold on our TV. The scene was disturbing, to say the least. I don’t remember the plot of the movie but I remember that scene.

A well dressed white woman opens the door to her luxurious apartment to find an indigenous woman standing in the hall. There is a long awkward moment before she finally invites her in. She sits on the edge of a dainty chair. The white woman looks down at the woman’s feet, clad in ragged sandals. Her feet are bleeding. The white woman disappears for a moment and returns with a newspaper. The indigenous woman raises her feet without a sound as the white woman places the newspaper under the bloodied sandals.

I could not help but think of that scene when, later in life, I read John 13 for the first time. It’s another scene that perhaps should make us all squirm, as no doubt it did the disciples of Christ that night. Jesus “laid aside his outer garments, and taking a towel, tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet …” (John 13:4.5, ESV).

The contrast between these two scenes is stark. One reveals a shocking callousness, a hardness of heart, while the other reveals a shocking concern, a compassion that speaks volumes about the one holding the towel.

Imagine the scene that played out in that upper room over 2,000 years ago:

The silence as Jesus, the revered teacher, removed his outer tunic, revealing the short inner one, which in the minds of the disciples meant Jesus stood naked before them.

The gasp they no doubt gave when he tied the towel around his waist, the act of a servant.

The sound of the water being poured into the basin, the disciples no doubt wondering what on earth he intended to do.

Their astonishment would have been complete when he likely got down on his knees before them and washed their feet. No wonder Peter protested. This was a scandalous act, incomprehensible to them, that their master should make himself their servant. It was a demonstration of the love He then commanded from them – a scandalous love that went beyond any convention, beyond their normal experience.

It is telling, too, that the scriptures record that “Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going back to God, rose from supper …” (John 13:3,4, ESV). It was because Jesus knew who He was that He could, without hesitation, humble Himself before His disciples.

It is only when we understand who we are, children of this same God, and indwelt with His Spirit, that we too are capable of such humility, compassion, and love.

In His Spirit we are able to follow the example of Jesus, rather than the example of a callous woman who showed no sympathy.

The comparison is telling. Which one will you emulate?

When Jesus was Silent

Photo by Dušan veverkolog on Unsplash

I almost leaped to my feet, but instead turned my head to stare at my pastor’s wife. “Say something!” I screamed the words in my head. But Ella did not speak.

The pastor of our tiny mission church had just announced that he would be away and, as had been the custom in the past, his wife would take the pulpit the next Sunday. A man, (a new-comer to the congregation), stood to his feet and exclaimed that allowing a woman to preach was not Biblical. A fair bit of discussion ensued, ending with the pastor inviting that man to preach in his place.

As a strong ‘women’s lib.’ proponent at the time, I was incensed. It was not until years later that I realized God’s will was being done and my pastor’s wife had the maturity and discernment to see it.

When I first came across the passage in Matthew 26 where Jesus does the same thing, it pushed that same justice (or was it vengeance?) button, and I could feel the anger rising. “Say something, Jesus! Do something!” That was the cry of my heart.

We all have a streak in us that cries out for justice. Or perhaps, on occasion, its more ugly cousin, vengeance, rises up.

But Jesus was silent before His accusers. In this, as in all things, He obeyed His Father, so prophesies about Him would be fulfilled – “He was oppressed and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth.” (Isaiah 53:7, ESV)

For we who have a limited, earthly perspective, the silence of our Saviour seems outrageous. As David Guzik says in his commentary on Matthew 26, “Jesus could have mounted a magnificent defense here, calling forth all the various witnesses to His deity, power and character. He was silent but not helpless.”

Charles Spurgeon puts it well: “His was the silence of patience, not of indifference; of courage, not of cowardice.”

Jesus knew speaking up would not change the minds of his accusers or change the course of the path before Him. None of that mattered, because He knew who He was and the destiny He was to fulfill.

It is not until the high priest finally confronts Him bluntly and asks if He is the son of God, that Jesus responds, “You have said so.” And He goes a step further, telling Caiaphas that one day even he will see Jesus’ true identity. David Guzik states: “Instead of defending Himself, Jesus simply testified to the truth. He was indeed the Christ, the Son of God. He answered as briefly and directly as possible.”

Jesus had no need to defend Himself to those who did not recognize Him. He knew the day was coming when even the High Priest would bow his knee.

Every believer is able to follow His example, to pray for that same patience and courage in the face of ridicule and even persecution. We too know who we are – children of the most high God who can depend on His promises to fight our battles and guide us in the way we should go, as He did for the Hebrews in the book of Exodus.

We can be assured that, at just the right time, the Holy Spirit will lead us to testify to the truth, that Jesus is “… the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.” (John 1:29, ESV).

Until then, perhaps it would be wise to be silent.

It’s That Easy!

Just couldn’t resist posting this little video of my granddaughter. Guess it’s in the genes! She’s got it all figured out! 🙂

It’s just that easy!

Is There a Cosmic Bowling Game Going On?

And are we the brunt of it?

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

None of us knows what will happen a year from now, or a month from now, or even tomorrow. Circumstances can hit at any moment and bowl us over like the proverbial pins we love to knock down for amusement. Sometimes it can seem like there’s a celestial bowling game going on and we are all the brunt of it.

A friend woke up on New Year’s Day to find their basement flooded and water spewing out of a split pipe. A young woman carrying twins is told to abort one because they cannot both survive. A community is wiped out by fire while another shudders under an abnormal deep freeze. Wars erupt and millions die of a virus that seems impossible to stop. If I did not believe there was a God beyond us who is in control of it all I would often be in despair. But then that young mom gives birth to those twins. A flower blooms unexpectedly in the desert that amazes all who see it. A man’s terminal cancer inexplicably disappears.

It is the safe arrival of those beautiful little babies, one of whom would not be alive but for a mother who said no, that keeps my head up and my heart soaring. And that single flower blooming in a far-off desert. And that father who is able to join his family for another Christmas dinner. And as long as there are such things in the world there is a will to go on, there is hope. As Sam Ganges said to Frodo when they were at the height of hopelessness – “… because there’s good in the world, and it’s worth fighting for.” That goodness spurs gratitude which lifts our eyes above our circumstances to the face of a loving God. That love ricochets through the universe, touching the hearts of those who are on the verge of giving up, as someone near them reaches out a hand to help them stand again.

After every natural disaster we hear of heroic deeds that are lauded through media around the world. The bravery and resilience and nobility of man is evident to all at such times and sometimes someone even wonders where such things come from. Beauty, nobility, creativity, heroism, pure unadulterated kindness. Are they sourced from the depths of mankind or from the depths of something, someone, beyond us?

As we launch into 2022 such questions bear pondering and answering. Some of us will frown and shake our heads because the answers seem unsearchable, unknowable. Some of us will smile because we’ve felt the love of a great and merciful God and seen His hand at work and known that He stands with us no matter what circumstances befall us. We smile because we can know where the nobility and kindness come from; we can know this God who is the source of it all.

As we launch into 2022 perhaps the only resolution we should have is to get to know Him even more as we take yet another step into the unknown, with hope.

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Other places to read my work:

On Medium.com find me at https://medium.com/pondrings and https://medium.com/koinonia and a few other publications along the way.

And on InScribe Writers Online

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