THE IMMORTAL B-52 (POLITICO 1/19/18)

In January, 1964, Stanley Kubrick’s black comedy, Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Love the Bomb, burst into the cerulean with the force of a surface-to-air missile. Considered one of the greatest political satires ever made, the film centers around an unhinged Air Force Strategic Air Command (SAC) general, Jack D. Ripper, who sends his wing of nuclear-armed Boeing B-52 Stratofortress bombers to attack Russia, and the frantic effort to recall them before they can deliver their thermonuclear payload. Said effort fails. Cue mushroom clouds and the WWII English songbird Vera Lynn singing, “We’ll meet again.”

“Released at the height of the Cold War, not long after the Cuban missile crisis, before the escalation in Vietnam,” Fred Kaplan wrote in the New York Times in 2004, “Dr. Strangelove dared to suggest-with yucks!-that our top generals might be bonkers, and that our well-developed system for preserving the peace was in fact a doomsday machine.”

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At the time of the film, the country’s relatively young armada of 700 odd B-52s comprised the fulcrum of that system. SAC kept one third of that armada on quick reaction ground alert, ready to fly to designated targets within the USSR within 15 minutes. In addition-particularly during times of increased tension, as during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis-a number of other Stratofortresses were on airborne alert, ready to launch an immediate retaliatory blow against the USSR, like Ripper’s bomber wing in Strangelove.

Fast forward 50 years to the current nuclear stand-off with North Korea. As Kim Jong Un has upped his nuclear game, speculation has swirled that the Pentagon is considering sending some of the United States’ most recently built model-if 1965 can be considered recent–bombers to partly reprise their Cold War role by placing them back on quick-reaction ground alert, loaded and ready to fly with crews in running range of their aircraft, something the Air Force ceased doing in 1991 when Russia theoretically ceased to be an active threat and the Pentagon decided it was time to finally stand down.

That order has not been given, U.S. Air Force Chief of Staff General David Goldfein emphasized in October, after a tour he conducted of his fleet of BUFFs, short for Big Ugly Fat Fellas-or Big Ugly Fat Fuckers, depending on your French-as the lumbering swept-wing aircraft are known. The Air Force noted that the bases’s alert facility was being updated in case the order does come down from Air Force Global Strike Command, the command which succeeded SAC.

Meanwhile, in a conspicuous show of force seemingly designed to irk the North Korean leader, last week the Air Force deployed six nuclear-capable B-52Hs to Andersen Air Base in Guam-the same base from which earlier incarnation BUFFs flew bombing missions against North Vietnam fifty years ago. According to the Air Force the surprise move, was part of the U.S. military’s effort to maintain “a continuous bomber presence in the Pacific.”

“Their [the bombers'] presence in theater provides opportunities to advance and strengthen alliances as well as long-standing military-to-military partnership,” said Col. Lori Hodge, a spokesperson for Air Force’s Pacific Command. Translation optional.

At the same time, as The New York Times reported last month, other B-52Hs based in Qatar armed with conventional laser-guided bombs are flying troop control missions against the Taliban in Afghanistan.

What is truly extraordinary about this spectacle of bomber power is that the Strangelove vintage era aircraft are flying at all, no less still on the front lines of American defense. To virtually everyone’s surprise, the Air Force’s workhorse bomber of the 1960s has turned out to be one of the most durable and versatile aircraft ever designed. At the same time, other observers point out, the fact that the B-52 is still needed to fill out the Air Force’s bomber line-up is truly remarkable-both for what that says about both America’s still-vast footprint in the world, as well as its byzantine and defective system for advanced weapons procurement.

“Personally speaking, I don’t think that the alert will take actually place,” says Michael O’Hanlon, senior fellow and military analyst at Brookings Institution. “The real news here,” Hanlon emphasizes, “is that an aircraft which first entered active service nearly three quarters of a century ago is still flying, as well as playing a significant role in U.S. defense, even if its mission is different from the one it was designed for. I just think that’s stunning.”

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In November 1945, three months after the end of World War II, the Pentagon issued performance characteristics for a new, five-crew strategic bomber capable of flying long enough distances that it would not have to rely on intermediate-range bases controlled by other countries. The projected aircraft, which eventually became the B-52, would complement the Air Force’s other new long-range bomber, the B-47 strategic turbojet. The B-47 had a range of 4,000 miles, roughly the distance for a bomber to fly one way from the U.S. to Russia. . The B-52′s projected range of 8,800 miles would allow a bomber to perform the same mission without refueling.

Overseeing the process was Deputy Chief of Air Staff for Research and Development Curtis LeMay. Then the country’s most famous-or infamous, depending on how one looked at it-air general, “Iron Ass” LeMay as the bluff, no-nonsense general was known to his men was perhaps best known for setting Tokyo on fire with his incendiary-laden B-29s at the end of the World War II. He also was the most prominent member of the so-called Bomber Mafia, which believed that long range heavy bombers in sufficient numbers were capable of winning wars, with the infantry and navy playing supporting roles-a concept also known as strategic air power.

LeMay, who also won plaudits for overseeing the 1947 Berlin Airlift, was intent on carrying the strategic air power mantra forward into the new era of nuclear war and confrontation with the Soviet Union. He expected the new super-bomber under development, the B-52, as well as its sister craft, the B-47, as to be the vessel for realizing that belief. As deputy Air Force chief, he expedited the process for procuring and manufacturing the bomber, including awarding the contract to build the aircraft to Boeing.

In 1948, LeMay’s dream of heading the elite strike force of the nuclear age came true when he became commander of the newly created Strategic Air Command (SAC), the Air Force bomber command responsible for executing the new defense policy of massive retaliation. According to that policy, the Soviet Union-which had also acquired its own smaller, but potent nuclear arsenal-would be deterred from using it by the threat of an all-out nuclear attack by the U.S. spearheaded by SAC’s growing armada of strategic bombers.

That same year, the first B-52-built by Boeing, flew its first successful test mission. In 1954, the first three combat-ready B-52s were delivered to SAC. The next year, SAC had 13 more. By 1957, when LeMay left SAC to become Air Force vice chief of staff, SAC employed nearly a quarter of a million men and its hangars contained over 2,000 strategic aircraft, including over 700 B-52s.

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The elite, increasingly popular fighting force was also the subject of a number of Hollywood movies during LeMay’s tenure, including “Strategic Air Command,” which premiered in 1956, and “Bombers B-57″ which aired the following year, as the four star general was transferring back to Washington.

However unlike Strangelove these films were deadly serious, both in their reverence for The Bomb, as well as the B-52. “These are pictures of the B-52 Stratofortress a SAC instructor solemnly informs his men in “Bombers B-52. It’s the biggest jet bomber in the world. It can fly over six hundred miles an hour, over eight miles high and over six thousand miles without refueling.”

“On a single mission,” he continues, “one of these airplanes-just one-can carry greater destructive force than that of all the bombs dropped by the Allied air forces in the whole of World War Two.”

The SAC men, as they were called, were suitably impressed. The cinematic paean to Air Power, which also included an obligatory air field featuring Natalie Wood–”set against the background of the mighty fortresses of the sky!” as the teaser shouted-was one of the top grossing films of the year. The real star, of course, was the B-52.

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As an officer who had risen through the ranks with the approval of his civilian superiors, LeMay was aware of and generally respected the traditional American principle of civilian control of the military, a corollary of which held that an officer ought to keep his views on defense policy, including how SAC’s bombers were or were not to be used against the USSR, to himself.

However there is evidence that, like his mad Air Force counterparts in Strangelove, he fantasized about sending “his” B-52s in a pre-emptive first strike against the USSR. Before he left SAC for Washington Robert Sprague, a member of a top secret civilian panel, told LeMay that, because it was out in the open, his bomber fleet was vulnerable to attack by Moscow. According to Fred Kaplan, who interviewed Sprague, the air warrior wasn’t bothered.

“If I see that the Russians are amassing their planes for an attack, I am going to knock the shit out of them,” LeMay told the astonished Sprague. “But General,” the latter interjected, “that is not national policy.”

“I don’t care,” LeMay calmly retorted, “That’s my policy.”

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As confident as LeMay was of his B-52s to knock the shit out of the Russians, if called to do so,, he did not expect them to be able to do so. So, in 1957, before he left SAC, he put the wheels in motion for a follow-on bomber, the B-70. A supersonic aircraft, the B-70 was intended at once to succeed the B-52 and ensure the future of strategic air power.

However the new president, John F. Kennedy, and his defense secretary, Robert McNamara, disapproved of LeMay’s bombsight view of the world, and, with Kennedy’s backing the practical-minded defense secretary cancelled the B-70, an aircraft of questionable airworthiness-nearly instigating a constitutional crisis in the process. During the Cuban missile crisis of 1962, Kennedy came to blows again with his bomber-minded Air Force chief when the latter’s eagerness to close with the Soviet adversary led him to argue for an air strike against Cuba.

In 1963, the year of Kennedy’s assassination, the Air Force took delivery of the last 14 B-52s ever produced. At the time, the bombers were expected to last another 15 or 20 years at the maximum, the norm for a modern aircraft. In the meantime, the atomic airplane, another would-be follow-on to the B-52 that had also proved to be an expensive boondoggle, was also cancelled.

Two years later, LeMay, whose love for The Bomb had also worried Kennedy’s successor, President Lyndon Johnson, was forced to retire, distressed that he had not been able to ensure a successor for his aging, swept-wing progeny. “The B-52 is going to fall apart on us before we even get a replacement,” he lamented in one of his last appearances before Congress in March, 1965.

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Thanks to its large, rugged air frame, the B-52 proved sturdier and more flexible than anyone, including LeMay, could have imagined. Beginning in 1965, the Air Force made numerous improvements to the original airframe, including re-engining the aircraft, installing advanced avionics, as well as increasing its payload capacity, that extended its service life practically to the point of aerial immortality.

In spite of its size, the hulking aircraft turned out to be remarkably agile. After the increasing sophistication of Soviet anti-aircraft defenses induced the Air Force to take the B-52 down from stratospheric heights in the mid-1960s, the bomber readily adapted to its revised role as a low-penetration bomber against the Soviet Union. Flying at speeds over 400 miles per hour at an altitude of just over 500 feet, it could evade radar and fly along the contours of the ground to deliver its weapons.

In the meantime, thanks to so-called Big Belly modifications that increased the B-52′s bombing capability, the plane played a major role in the air war over both North and South Vietnam. In the north, the planes participated in a series of pulverizing raids against the cities of Hanoi and Haipong. The raids, the first and only instance in which the Stratofortresses engaged in active aerial combat, were not without cost: some two dozen of the surviving bombers were shot down, with a loss of several dozen crewmen killed or captured. Nevertheless, the sorties, ordered by President Richard Nixon, were unquestionably a factor in inducing the North Vietnamese to come to the negotiating table in Paris in January, 1973.

Meanwhile, in the south, other B-52s carried out massive carpet-bombing raids, effectively blurring the line between conventional and nuclear warfare. An old-fashioned, World War II-style box formation of six B-52s dropping their bombs from 30,000 feet, it was found, could destroy almost everything within an area approximately five-eighths of a mile wide by two miles long, Viet Cong included-and causing about the same damage as a tactical nuclear weapon. The truth of the matter was that even though the B-52s had reached the end of their shelf life, no other aircraft could wreak as much destruction as a Stratofortress, whether it carried conventional or nuclear weapons.

During the 1970s and 1980s the B-52s reverted to their prior role as part of the the third leg of the U.S. nuclear triad, alongside America’s land-based ballistic missiles and submarine-launched ballistic missiles. The remaining 200 hundred or so B-52s were supposed to be replaced by the B-1 supersonic bomber in the 1980s. However once again the Pentagon’s plan for a successor aircraft was undone because of the exorbitant cost of its replacement. So instead of the originally envisioned fleet of several hundred B-1s, only a hundred were built, enough to supplant some but not all of the surviving B-52s. Meanwhile, the Stratofortresses were modified to carry cruise nuclear missiles, as well as other “stand-off” ordnance which could be fired at a faraway target while the aircraft “stood off” from their terrestrial objectives.

Finally, in 1991, as the Soviet Union collapsed and the Cold War came to an abrupt–and welcome end–and more than a third of a century after the B-52s had entered active service, then Secretary of Defense Richard Cheney ordered the extant B-52s to stand down from their

But there was a new challenge: After Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait, the venerable aircraft was once again pressed into service in a tactical role as part of Operation Desert Storm. B-52s flew more than 1,600 sorties and delivered 40 percent of the total ordnance dropped by coalition forces during the short, decisive conflict. The low-level strikes, in which hundreds of 750-pound “daisy cutter” bombs were dropped over small areas, similar to what happened in Vietnam, had a major demoralizing effect on Iraqi troops. After the initial strikes, the terrifying sight and sound of a flock of B-52s approaching was sufficient to induce thousands of Iraqi soldiers to surrender.

In 1996 the durable, multi-modified aircraft successfully participated in Operation Desert Strike against Iraq again, destroying Baghdad power stations and communication facilities with cruise missiles during a record 34-hour, 16,000-mile round trip from Anderson Air Force base in Guam-the longest distance ever flown for a combat mission.

Three years later, B-52s took part in the NATO bombing campaign against Yugoslavia, helping to destroy bridges and industrial plants and other infrastructure sites, while also adding to the considerable military and civilian casualties on the ground.

In 2001, the hardy bombers, then approaching 50 years of operations, continued to outdo themselves, contributing to Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan through the use of precision-guided munitions, a task previously reserved for fighter aircraft. Two years later, the B-52s again appeared in the skies over Baghdad, firing hundreds of missiles at Saddam’s infrastructure, and helping to bring the second Gulf war to a thunderous close-at least for a while.

In the meantime, once again, the cost-related delay in getting the designated successor bomber craft onto full production-in this case the B-21 Long Range stealth bomber-forced the Air Force to continue to use its aging B-52s. Amazingly, current plans are for the remaining Stratofortresses to serve into the 2040s, or nearly a century after they were rolled out. Meanwhile, at Barksdale Air Force Base in Louisiana, where most of the 78 remaining bombers are based, some B-52 pilots are grandsons of LeMay’s original SAC men.

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Almost no one disagrees that the B-52 is a workhorse of a plane. But what military strategists don’t agree on is whether the B-52 should keep on flying.

“Why not?” asks O’Hanlon. “The economics have always made sense to keep the B-52 in the air, with suitable re-engining and re-winging and so on over the years. Of course, by now it has become something of a flying museum of the evolution of air power, but as long as it is able to perform the missions it is assigned to, so what?”

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Rebecca Grant, president of the defense research company IRIS Independent Research, agrees, pointing to the B-52′s unique combination of ruggedness and versatility. “It can attack terrorists on hillsides, enemy ships at sea, fielded forces or fixed and mobile, high-value sites,” she says. “To me the ultimate message of the B-52 story is that it is ready for conventional and nuclear missions anytime.”

Matthew Bunn, a nuclear and energy analyst at Harvard’s Belfer Center for Science and International Affairs, is also an admirer of the B-52 but cautions, “We are very lucky that we made it through the period when we had [B-52s] in the air armed with nuclear weapons without a truly catastrophic accident.” Bunn is referring to disasters like the then hushed-up January 1961 incident in which a B-52 broke up in mid-air and dropped its two hydrogen bombs over South Carolina, with one of them accidentally getting all but one of the switches preventing detonation flipped as it crashed to the ground, or the 1966 incident in which a B-52 broke up in flight as it crashed to the ground.

A former adviser to the White House Office of Science and Technology, Bunn believes putting the B-52s back on alert because of the new North Korean crisis would be unwise. “There is no need to return bombers to 24-hour alert,” he says, “which is only relevant if you think there is about to be a bolt-from-the-blue nuclear attack. There are much more urgent priorities-both military and civilian-for the dollars that would cost, and 24-hour alerts carry some of their own risks as well.”

But there is another red flag here, notes Bunn-the fact that the Air Force has been incapable of developing a replacement in sufficient quantity to completely replace the aging complement of B-52s. “The history of current strategic bomber development suggests that the U.S. system for developing new bombers is broken,” he says. “The system tries to add so many features that the bombers become so expensive and delayed that we wind up buying only a few of them. We ended up only using the B-1B as a nuclear bomber for a short time-it’s now dedicated only to non-nuclear missions-and we’ve got only 20s of the B-2s, which became so expensive that Congress didn’t want to keep funding them.”

Robert Haffa, a former Air Force colonel and highly regarded private consultant says it’s time for the B-52s to go. “The re-emergence of great powers with sophisticated air defenses-China, Iran, Russia-now call for the B-52′s retirement and its replacement with a stealthy, long-range platform capable of holding a range of targets at risk in contested airspace,” which the slower, subsonic, easy-to-track BUFFS can not.

As far as what Haffa thinks LeMay would say about the immortal life of the B-52 if he were alive, the retired colonel guesses a part of him would be proud that the aircraft lasted as long as it has. But, Haffa says, “I expect he would also be horrified that the Air Force has failed to modernize its long-range bomber fleet to the point where the B-52 is still a centerpiece after all these years.”

Grant agrees: “He would demand that we build and buy B-21s faster.”

One point on which all the experts agree is that the uncannily long-lived aircraft, arguably the most successful military aircraft ever built, was one of the best purchases Uncle Sam has made.

“Divide the B-52′s development and test cost by ordnance dropped and hours providing deterrence across seven decades,” Grant declares, “and it may be the best air power investment ever.”

“I don’t give Curtis LeMay credit for very much,” says O’Hanlon. “His legacy was mostly a dangerous one. But give LeMay credit where it is due. He certainly bequeathed one hell of a plane.”

Or as Colonel Hodge of the Air Force’s Pacific Command, which now includes the six B-52s which arrived in Guam last week, proudly puts it, “For more than 50 years B-52 Stratofortresses along with their highly qualified air crew and maintainers, have been the backbone of the manned strategic bomber force for the United States. They have been updated with modern technology that will allow them to continue serving into the 21st century as an important element of our nation’s defense.”

This is the original draft of an essay published in the History Department of Politico on January, 19, 2018.

DATELINE DAUGAVPILS (POLITICO 1/5/18)

DAUGAVPILS, LATVIA. IN February 2016 BBC 2 broadcast a film, “World War III: Inside the War Room,” in which ten political, diplomatic and military figures war gamed an imaginary scenario in which Russia inserted itself militarily in Latgale, the heart of Latvia’s Russian ethnic minority population, in the southeastern corner of the country.

In the film, in scenes evidently intended to mirror similar scenes from the Ukraine’s restive Donbass region, a battalion of “green men” adorned in balaclavas storm a local government building, presumably from Daugavpils, the provincial capital and Latvia’s second largest city, and hastily remove Latvian and European Union flags, as an angry crowd of indigenous Russophiles lustily cheers them on.


Nearly two years after the controversial broadcast, residents of the once great Russian Imperial city known as Dvinsk, I found during the course of a five days visit to this overlooked and up-and-coming city, are still livid about it and the fictitious and incendiary picture of their community and how they feel about Russia, as well as their Latvian speaking neighbors and vice versa.


“The film was awful,” says Olga Petkevich, an ethnic Russian journalist and native of Daugvpils, still seething at the memory. “We are not like that.”


“The parallel with Crimea and the Ukraine was a stupid thing,” says Alexander Rube, a journalist at another paper, “For one thing it is gratuitously provocative. For another, it was simply wrong. People here in Daugavpils are worried about a lot of things, but, rightly or wrongly, war and the fear of war between Russia and NATO is not one of them.”


“I suppose you could say that we are the Appalachians of Latvia,” said Petkovich, who also works as a public relations advisor to the mayor, over breakfast at the Plaza, the elegant rooftop restaurant of the Hotel Latgale, the modern ten floor hotel which towers over the city. “including the way people from the rest of the country view us, as well as how foreigners see us.”


“On the one hand people from Riga see us as rubes,” said Petkovich, gazing at the panoramic view of this myth-enshrouded city of 85,000, with its incongruous, but charming mish mash of elegant Imperial Russian, decaying Soviet, and gleaming post-Soviet architecture. ” The other day someone from Riga actually asked me whether we get around on horseback.”


“Meanwhile, the foreign media seem to think that we are pining for Russia to invade and rescue our backward city. The fact is, this a fairly sophisticated city in its own right. And things are quite calm.”

“I’ve never been to Russia and it’s only a few kilometers away,” says Petkevich, who calls herself a “European Russian.”

Jolanta Smukste agrees. A graduate of Daugavpils University, she now works as a guide at Daugavpils’ most famous attraction, the sprawling 19th century Daugavpils fortress, which used to guard the western approaches to the Russian empire, now also the site of the Mark Rothko Art Center, where the work of the expressionist painter and Daugavpils’ most famous son is showcased. 

“I don’t sense any tension between the two populations,” said Smukste, an ethnic Latvian, who also speaks Russian (as do most Latvians), “Sometimes, before elections, there are parties who try to get more votes by riling things up. But in reality people here get along quite well.”

Occasionally, Smukste says, visiting Latvian speakers ask why there are Imperial Russian symbols on the gates to the mammoth fortress. “The truth is that this is our history, we accept it, and we are proud of it.”

“There are many myths about our city and this region,” she continues. “People coming to Daugavpils for the first time, including people from the capital, are often surprised that there are any Latvian speaking people here at all. They expect to find a grey, post-Soviet, aggressively pro-Russian place, when actually it is a normal European city.”

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TO BE SURE, “normal” is a relative term as applies to Daugavpils. The days of the “wild, wild East” are still a relatively recent memory here. In 2010 Grigoris Nemcovs, a journalist and the deputy mayor of the city was shot in broad daylight in an alley a block away from the campus of Daugavpils University, the city’s major educational institution. The case remains open.

There is a thriving black market in alcohol, cigarettes and other goods, thanks to the city’s location near the Russian and Belarussian borders, as well as lax law enforcement.

One is hard put to describe such things as “normal,” at least by Western European standards.

Nevertheless things in Daugavpils are looking up, say residents of both communities. “The quality of life has definitely improved over the last few years,” says Liga Lazdane. “The roads are better. We have playgrounds now. I am pleased.”

“There are a lot of misconceptions about our city and region,” says Lazdane, who is married to a Russian. “We have our problems. Maybe sometimes we don’t understand each other. But we live side by side.”

That certainly is the impression I got during my quite enjoyable visit to Daugavils. Before I left acquaintances of mine in Riga told me to expect to find a city that was poor and run down. Although Daugavpils certainly has its share of haunted, Soviet-era architecture, I found a city that was up and coming with a palpable sense of pride-as well as a bit of chip on its shoulder because of how others, including both foreigners and Latvians, saw it.

Amongst other things I was pleased to find a number of excellent restaurants in Daugavpils. In fact, I can say that I had the best meal I have had since moving to Latvia at an elegant new dinery called the Art Hub.

Mariah Stewart, a senior at the University of South Carolina who is studying Russian at Daugavpils University,” agrees that the city has gotten a bad rap. “I like Daugavpils,” she says. “It has charm and all the essentials of a city, including a great tram system, a bowling alley, a sports center and malls.”

Also, Smukste points out, “the use of Russian is as much the result of a shared language than Russian sympathies.”

As far as the talk of war, or the fear of it is concerned, Stewart calls it “hype” concocted by both the Latvian and Russian media. “Things are cool here.” By contrast she found Daugavpils Estonian sister city of Narva, the capital of that country’s ethnic Russian minority, which she and her classmates recently visited, “much more” aggressively pro-Russian.

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SO, if the Latvian and Russian communities are getting along, as it appears and it is a pleasant place to live and study, and the fear of war is overblown, what are the putatively “oppressed” citizens of this city really worried about?

A lot, it turns out. A major concern, as well as a source of considerable anger, is the gross discrepancy between wages and salaries between Riga and Daugavpils. The average monthly income in Latvia is the second lowest in EU-about 700 euros a month. Only neighboring Lithuania is harder off. But wages are even lower in Daugavpils, where residents struggle to get by on 350 to 400 euros, plus whatever they are able to supplement from the black market. 

“Riga wages are a bad joke here,” says Aleksander Rube, the journalist.

The resulting economic hardship in turn aggravates the region’s and the country’s direst concern: the steady and frightening decline in population. Due to the combination of a falling birth rate and economic migration, Latvia has EU’s fastest declining population. According to the Central Statistical Bureau of Latvia, Latvia’s population currently stands at 1,950,000. That’s nearly 100,000 less than just five years ago, an 8% per cent drop.

Migration is the biggest problem. Last year 20,574 Latvians emigrated, mostly to the UK and Ireland. On the positive side, an increasing number of emigres are returning, particularly from the UK.

“Brexit has scared some people into coming back,” says Vladislavs Stankevics, the sturdily optimistic head of business development for Latgale. He cites the daughter of a local furniture maker who returned from England last year and is now working at her father’s business as an example of the wavelet of post-Brexit returnees. “Many Latvians don’t feel as comfortable in England anymore.” 

Brexit or not, not enough Latvians and Latgalians are returning but not enough to make a significant impact in the decline: the latest statistics show that 8345, or nearly half as many returned.

Unsurprisingly the region of Latvian that has the severest population drop is Latgale. Daugavpils itself has lost 20,000 people over the last decade. “Of course all this talk of war doesn’t help matters,” adds Stankevics. “It also scares off the investors we need to create jobs.”

Nevertheless Stankevics is confident that things will turn around soon for Daugavpils. “The quality of life is improving here,” he says. “I am not sure if you would have said that this was a nice place to live five years ago, but it is now.

“Unfortunately, there is still a decline in population here,” says Olga Petkovich. “We still are dying and moving abroad faster than children are being born here.”

That is what we are worried about-not war.”

“Nevertheless,” she insists, “I am happy here. This is a good place to raise children. It’s nice to be able to live near one’s parents.”

“And of course it’s nice to be able to speak Russian and listen to Russian.”

“But,” she emphasizes, “that doesn’t mean we want Russia to come here.”

This is the first draft of an article which was published in the European edition of POLITICO on January 5, 2018.

A GREAT FINNISH FILM (CS MONITOR 1/04/18)

HELSINKI. In a Russian city overrun by Finnish forces, a beautiful Russian girl surprises her conquerors by bursting into dance, then proceeds to seduce one of the Finns.

In the riverine equivalent of the charge of the Light Brigade, a flotilla of Finnish assault boats, guns blazing, move in perfect unison, as Russian artillery bursts around them.

A Finnish sergeant, at the end of his tether after three years of combat, methodically mows down an entire company of Russian ski soldiers with his machine gun, eyes ablaze.

These are some of the scenes which have alternately beguiled, angered, and mesmerized the hundreds of thousands of Finns who have flocked to the latest filmic version of “The Unknown Soldier,” the classic 1954 novel by Vaino Linna about the experiences of a Finnish rifle company during World War II.

Written and directed by veteran Finnish director, Aku Lohumies, the latest-and some say greatest–”Unknown Soldier” cost 7 million euros ($8.5 million) to make, a record for a Finnish film. Whether or not that is the case, the new film has clearly struck a nerve with the Finnish public.

Since Tuntematon sotilas opened in October, over 800,000 Finns-close to 15% of the population- have seen it, making it the most successful Finnish film in recent history. “A national sensation” is how Ilta Sanomat, one of the main newspapers, describes it,

Doubtless one of the reasons for the popularity of the film–which is set during the so-called 1941-44 Continuation War, which Finland initiated in order to gain back the territory it had lost to the Soviet Union after the1939-40 Winter War-is the sheer scale of the production. All told, Lohumies employed over 14,000 extras in the three hour film, and it seems he uses all of them in the movie, particularly in his epic battle scenes, which recall such classics of the war film genre as “Paths of Glory” and “Apocalypse Now.”

In the Helsinki theater where I saw “Unknown Soldier” one could sense the sense the awe and pride of the filmgoers as they watched hundreds forefathers march into battle with “the hereditary enemy from the East,” as Gustav Mannerheim, the commander-in-chief of Finnish forces during World War II described Russia-as well as their horror when their filmic kinsmen were strafed and blown up by the Red Air Force.

However as gripping as the combat scenes in the film are, they are not the only reason for the film’s extraordinary appeal, or what differentiates it from the prior versions, observers say.

“Some of the most moving scenes in the film have nothing to do with combat,” says Michael Franck, a noted Finnish documentarian. “I was particularly struck by the scenes of Roka [the aforementioned sergeant and central character of the film] when he is on home leave on his farm, and I think audiences were too.”

“I tried to go a little deeper than the other versions,” says Lohumies, who says he got the idea for the film when he was in the army himself thirty years ago. Assisting him was his friend, actor Eero Aho whose performance as the alternately possessed and sentimental Roka has also drawn praise.

“I wanted to give a three dimensional picture of war, without glorifying it or condemning it, but showing it like it is, including the toll it takes on the men.”

Another aspect of the film which has drawn high marks was Lohumies’ decision to use a number of Russian actors to humanize the “hereditary enemy,” particularly Diana Pozharskaya, who plays the girl from Petravazavodsk who seduces her conquerors.

“It was a great honor for me to participate in ‘Unknown Soldier,’ says Pozharskaya, who comes close to stealing the film. Pozharskaya, who is based in Moscow, says she read the original novel as part of her preparation for the role, which Louhimies created for her.

“I learned a lot I didn’t know before about the history of our two countries’ relations,” she says. “I knew that we had fought a long war with Finland,” she said, referring to the two back-to-back wars which the two countries fought during WWII. “But I didn’t know that Russia started the cycle.”

The fact that the film appears at a time when tensions in the Baltic region are on the rise may also explain its appeal.

“I saw the film with a friend says Alec Neihum, a student at Helsinki University who recently completed his compulsory military service. “Afterwards we found ourselves talking about the situation in the Ukraine. I don’t think that was an accident.”

Another reason for the widespread interest in the film seems to be a new willingness on the part of Finns to confront the less pleasant aspects of their history. Unlike the Winter War, which Finns consider their finest hour, there is little about the Continuation War to boast of.

For one, the Finns were the aggressors. Also, after achieving their original objective of regaining their lost territory, the rapacious Finns went on to annex part of Russia, before ultimately being thrown back.

As Vera reminds her Finnish lover “You invaded us.”

Also the Finns entered the war as a co-belligerent with Nazi Germany, an inconvenient truth which Lokumies does not gloss over. At one point during the war, in June, 1942, arguably the most infamous moment in Finnish history, Adolf Hitler flew to Finland to help celebrate Marshal Mannerheim, the Finnish commander-in-chief’s 75th birthday. Lohumies includes a portion of the original newsereel of Hitler’s visit in the movie.

“I want to make Finns think about their history,” says Lokumies.

“But above all, I wanted to make a great film, and one that did complete justice to the novel.”

If the response of the Finnish public is any evidence, he certainly has done that.

The above is the first draft of an article published in The Christian Science Monitor on January 4, 2018.