Cuba – the escape from dry land Mail service for internees
Cuba was colonised by Spain in the 1400s, but by the end of the 19th century, the natives were restless for independence, writes Richard Stenlake. The US, sensing the main chance, sent the USS Maine to Havana Harbour to protect American assets, where in 1898 it mysteriously blew up. The jury is still out whether this was caused by a mine or an internal explosion, but Spain got the blame, and following the resultant Spanish-american War, Cuba was made a protectorate of the US until it became independent in 1902. A 1903 lease ceded control over the southern part of Guantanamo Bay to the US Navy. According to legend, since Castro took over the
American lease, cheques remain uncashed.
Don Facundo Bacardi Masso bought a Cuban distillery in 1862 and started the brand that lives on today. Fruit bats, a good luck symbol to the indigenous people, were roosting in the rafters and adopted as the firm’s logo. Bacardi’s son planted a seemingly indestructible palm tree in front of the distillery, inspiring a prophecy that as long as it stood the
Bacardi family would survive in
Cuba. Just tempting fate I say.
Business boomed in the 1920s as Prohibition gripped America.
The advertising card shows
Uncle Sam using a bat as a parachute to land on Cuba – and get a drink!
America’s playground ended abruptly with the revolution of
1959 led by Fidel Castro and
Cuba going Communist, with the inevitable seizure of Bacardi’s Cuban operations. The palm tree got wind of this and fulfilled the prophecy by dying, and the Bacardi family fled to run the rest of their international empire elsewhere.
Cuban postcards are fun and affordable. Light up a cigar, mix some Bacardi with Cocacola like the invading US servicemen did in 1900 and enjoy!
Following the British example, the German authorities decided to intern all British adult males residing in the country for the duration of World War I, writes Christer Brunström. Thus, a large prisoner camp was organised in the Ruhleben Horse Racing Grounds in Berlin from 1914 until 1918.
The internees were British civilians who either lived or worked in Germany when the war broke out. As many as 5,000 men were held at the camp, which can best be described as a ‘gated community’ to use a modern term. The men were, of course, eager to return to their families and their regular lives.
Thanks to the many initiatives of the prisoners themselves and in a bid to combat boredom, a school and other cultural institutions were established. There was a lending library, a theatre and several sports clubs.
In 1915, a man called Albert Klamps came up with the brilliant idea of starting a local mail service. It began operations on 19 July
1915 and was forced to close on 3 April
1916. A total of 16 different stamps were issued, and it was a most useful institution.
I was reminded of this when I recently spotted a dealer ad offering seven mint Ruhleben stamps for just £10. Unfortunately, they were all forgeries. The originals are perforated 11.5 and the word ‘POSTAGE’ on the left is equidistant to the wording at the top and bottom (left).
The forgeries are usually perforated 10.5 and the word ‘POSTAGE’ is closer to the word at the bottom than to ‘RUHLEBEN’ above it (above).
A question I am often asked, as I stand at a stamp fair hunched over a box of covers, is what I am looking for, writes Brian Austin. Well, the first part of the answer is, I don’t really know, but a better answer is I don’t know as I have not seen it before, with an even better answer being an unusual illustration on a pre-decimal first day cover.
This has been the major trend in collecting British first day covers for probably the last ten years, looking for unusual illustrations on covers before 1971.
This 1964 Shakespeare cover is a good example. Produced on a larger size envelope by the Avon Philatelic Co. Ltd, who were in Stratford. So, this may have been the beginning, and end, of their foray into the cover production business, just doing this one because of them being based in the home of the Bard.
They do not seem to have spent too long on the design, using the special postmark already available and the cover being illustrated with a poor reproduction of what looks like a black and white postcard. It did make me smile that they have gone to the trouble of adding their copyright in the bottom right-hand corner, but they did not do even a basic insert card, which could have been used to advertise their business.
So how do you spot the unusual, well it is just with experience. If you are thinking of starting to hunt for these, spend some time looking at dealers’ stock before you buy anything. All of a sudden, a cover will jump out of you as something special. It might take a year or two, or maybe even longer, but it will happen.
My tip for the future is also to extend this hunt into the first half of the 1970s where there are still many good and unusual covers to be found.