Welcome, all, to the first of four blog posts in which we’ll be commemorating May, 1976 as “Marvel Milestone Month” — a month in which, in a manner both unprecedented and (to the best of my knowledge), never repeated, four major Marvel Comics titles all celebrated a significant numerical milestone (“significant” being defined for our purposes as “a multiple of 50”) within a couple of weeks of each other. 

The four titles in question were Thor (which hit #250), Avengers (#150), X-Men (#100) — and, of course, Captain America, whose very special Bicentennial-themed 200th issue is the primary topic of today’s post.  Before you ask (and also to save you the trouble of looking it up), the odd one out in this group was X-Men — which, in addition to having been reprint-only when last the other three titles rounded a 50-issue marker, was also bi-monthly at the time — as indeed it still was in May, 1976, but wouldn’t be the next time these same stars aligned for its better-established stablemates.*

But even if we were to limit our focus to the “all-Avengers” trio of Captain America, Thor, and (duh) Avengers, this would still be kind of a special month, given that back in March, 1972, while the 100th issue-milestone of Avengers had been celebrated with a story featuring every single hero who’d ever been on the team, and the 200th installment of the comic series formerly known as Journey into Mystery had boasted a spectacular (if ultimately downbeat) retelling of the Norse myth of Ragnarok (Marvel version), Captain America #150 had arrived on spinner racks as… nothing very special, really.  No mention was made of the just-achieved numerical milestone on the book’s cover or on its opening splash page, nor did anything particularly notable transpire within its pages.  It was simply the latest issue of the series, and that was that.

The lack of hoopla over CA #150 wasn’t actually all that remarkable, when you think about it.  At the time, it hadn’t been all that long since Marvel’s two flagship titles, Fantastic Four and Amazing Spider-Man, had released their own 100th issues, and as best as I can tell, it hadn’t occurred to any comics company yet to make a big deal over a comic making it to #50, let alone any other multiple of same not ending in “00”.  As for Captain America #100, it was actually the first issue of a comic bearing its star’s name to have come out since the 1950s (a month before its publication, Cap had merely been holding down his half of Tales of Suspense #99).

All of that meant that Captain America #200 was, if not technically the first opportunity Marvel had had to celebrate an issue-number milestone for the Living Legend of World War II, the first time it had opted to do so.  And how could the publisher not make a big deal about this one?  By sheerest coincidence, its date of publication would sync up with another “200” milestone — namely, the 200th anniversary of the founding of the United States of America.  Granted, the nation’s official “birthday”, derived from the date the Second Continental Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence, was July 4th, rather than any day in May — still, close enough, right?  Given the patriotic symbology that had always been central to the character of Captain America, it was inevitable that his own “200” commemoration would be linked to the one for the country for which he stood.

And with Cap’s co-creator Jack “King” Kirby making his much-heralded return to the character just eight issues prior to the 200th issue, a multi-part storyline centered on a major threat to the very existence of the U.S.A. — a threat timed to the very date of America’s big birthday celebration — must have been a virtual no-brainer, whether conceived by Kirby himself, or by someone else at Marvel.  And so Captain America #193 kicked off the “Madbomb” saga — the earlier chapters of which we’ve covered in a couple of previous posts.

Or, rather, we’ve covered it up through issue #197.  This post is actually the first time we’ve checked in on Cap and Falc’s ongoing crusade against “the Elite” since February… so, before we can proceed to the story arc’s climactic chapter, we’ll need to get caught up to date by taking a look at the two issues immediately preceding it — beginning with Captain America #198, whose cover by Kirby and inker Frank Giacoia (who does the same honors for the story within) is shown at left.

We pick things up in the immediate aftermath of #197, as we find two superheroes and an indeterminate number of U.S. soldiers in the midst of mopping up, following their successful capture of a mammoth enemy complex hidden below the Western Badlands…

I’ve read somewhere that Kirby originally intended to let the “Madbomb” storyline run all the way through to July’s issue #202, which would of course have coincided precisely with the American Bicentennial observance, but was persuaded to wrap it up by #200 instead.  I suppose that’s possible, but to me, the saga as published reads a lot more like one that’s been artificially extended, rather than compressed; as I mentioned in the #197 post, just about the whole “Badlands” sequence found in #194-197 could be excised without making much difference in terms of the overall plot (its thematic significance, on the other hand, is another matter entirely).  On the face of it, the main justification for our heroes and their allies not having accomplished their ultimate objective of finding and shutting down the “Big Daddy” Madbomb at the end of #197 would seem to be that it would have ended the story three issues too early.

Still, however we got here, this is where we are… so here goes.  The Falcon makes one last airborne sweep of the premises, looking for clues as to where “Big Daddy” — which, you’ll remember, has been primed to go off on the Fourth of July, driving the entire American population insane — might truly be; but, alas, he comes up short:

Mason Harding finishes saying goodbye to his invalid daughter Carol (the specific nature of her illness is never revealed by Kirby, by the way) before being hustled out by the two men he tells her are “security” personnel — their constant presence being necessitated by the “secret government work” he claims to be doing…

The man spying on the Harding estate is an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., who adds that he’s sure that there’s “something or someone” at the house important to the electronics genius, but hasn’t been able to get close enough to find out what or who it is.  He’s told that he’s done well enough and should now return to base: “Two new men will take over when you leave…”

Back at the house, Carol’s nurse tells her it’s late, so she’s going to turn off her room’s lights.  “Oh, do what you like!  I no longer care… night or day means nothing to people like myself!”

In the previous chapters of this story, no one working and/or living in the Elite’s underground base seemed to recognize Captain America, despite his having been a public figure since the 1940s.  That lack of awareness might have been explicable by such factors as the closed nature of their hidden society, the neurological “treatments” being conducted on site, and so on — but now we have someone out in the “real world” who seems just as unfamiliar with Cap’s distinctive red, white, and blue togs as those folks were.  Assuming Carol hasn’t been bedridden her whole life — or, even if she has been, has had access to print and broadcast media — that’s a pretty tough notion to ask readers to swallow.

At this, Cap goes silent as he ponders Mason Harding’s foolishness in getting his daughter mixed up in this mess.  When Carol asks him to share his thoughts, he replies, “Like yourself, I think about people.  I think of the conflicts which arise because of their different versions of “right and wrong.”  “That’s a heavy thought,” responds Carol.  “I think you’re a very sensitive person.”

Seeming to be a little embarrassed by this, Cap tells Carol he really ought to be going now.  She tries to dissuade him at first, but then changes tack, asking if she’ll see him again…

It’s possible that Kirby felt he needed to add a sympathetic female character to his “Madbomb” arc to provide some gender balance, given that the only named women to have appeared in it prior to this issue have been the entitled and pitiless Cheer Chadwick and the mercenary “kill-derby” competitor Tinkerbelle.  And maybe he was feeling nostalgic for the old Hollywood weepies of his younger days (or was just a big fan of the 1970 book/film Love Story).  But the dialogue he gives Carol Harding (and Captain America, in their scenes together) is so over-the-top melodramatic that, even in 1976, I suspect most readers found it hard to apprecuate — unless, perhaps, they opted to enjoy it as unintentional camp.

Meanwhile, on the nearby beach, Cap meets up with Falc…

Carol’s guest from the previous night introduces himself as Steve, then invites her to join him astride “Kingpin” — “the finest horse at the local riding academy” — for a romantic ride through the surf.  “The weatherman was wrong,” Carol declares.  “This is going to be a marvelous day…”

The Falcon is quickly joined by a handful of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, who proceed to tie up the stunned gunmen while our hero flies on towards the Harding estate.  There, another phase of the federal operation is already in progress…

As the co-creator and original artist of the “Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.” feature in Strange Tales in the 1960s, Jack Kirby had typically depicted the agency’s personnel as wearing ordinary street clothes.  But his successor, Jim Steranko, had gravitated to garbing Fury and company in skin-tight body suits, and that soon became the standard for all of Marvel’s artists… at least until Kirby’s return to the company in 1975, where he picked up pretty much where he’d left off.  Generally speaking, the mostly-anonymous S.H.I.E.L.D. agents we find in the King’s Seventies work opt for slightly dated business attire in the form of suits and hats — though for a field operation like the one shown here, they might go for baggy blue jumpsuits… and hats.

Back on the beach, Steve and Carol have finished their horsey-ride, and are relaxing beside a small fire Steve has built.  However, Carol has heard some mysterious loud noises coming from the direction of the house, and is wondering if she should cut this outing short to go back there…

These four louts fail to take Steve’s hint, and so we have a brief tussle over the beach ball — the closest thing to conventional superheroic action Mr. Rogers sees this issue — before our hero demonstrates just how outclassed they’d be in a rock-throwing contest…

Hmm, did Kirby realize in the middle of scripting this issue that it really didn’t make any sense for Carol not to have recognized the world-famous Captain America?  Yeah, I think maybe he did.  Unfortunately, the excuse he has her offer for her earlier failure (“I should have looked beyond your mask…”) is pretty lame.

Oh, no!  Having formed a sudden but deep emotional attachment to Carol Harding, Steve Rogers now learns she’s “about to die“.

Is she though?  As we’ll discover in the very next issue, the final answer to that question (as final as we ever get, anyway) is a lot less certain — and subsequently less tragic — than that last tier of panels suggests.

Both the cover and contents of Captain America #199 come to us courtesy of the same team that produced #198, i.e., Jack Kirby and Frank Giacoia.  “The Man Who Sold the United States” starts out with a frankly gratuitous fight scene, as Cap (now back in his costume) goes searching through the Harding house for any bad guys who slipped through the dragnet cast by S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Falcon last issue… and, wouldn’t you know, finds two such.  He and Falc make predictably quick work of these remnants, after which Cap goes to check in on Carol Harding…

And with a comradely grasp of the shoulders, Cap bids farewell forever to Carol Harding, at least as far as we know (she never makes another appearance in a Marvel comic, at any rate).  So much for “Captain America’s Love Story!” — not exactly what you’d call a torrid tale of romance.

I’m at something of a loss in trying to determine what Kirby was up to with this entire plot sequence.  As I noted earlier, he may have felt the need to introduce a more sympathetic feminine presence into his storyline — but why bill these scenes with Carol as a “love story”, if he wasn’t really interested in following through?  I have to wonder if the King had originally meant to keep Ms. Harding around for a while, but got cold feet at the last minute.  Or maybe someone at Marvel pointed out to him that former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Sharon Carter (a character Kirby had himself co-created with Stan Lee back in 1965) was still technically in the picture, despite having not appeared on-panel since CA #186 — and having not shared a scene with Steve Rogers since #184 (where they’d fought, but not actually broken up).  For the record, Kirby would bring Sharon back just a few issues after this, in #202 — and would in fact present them as a couple who were currently having “difficulties”.  So I think it stands to reason that he was aware of that particular subplot at least by then, and perhaps as early as #199, if not #198… though we’ll probably never know for sure.

Following Malcom Taurey’s orders, Mason Harding’s guards drag him to his room and roughly throw him to the floor.  But they and their boss have underestimated the inventor, who has concealed on his person “a micro-version of the dreaded Madbomb” small enough to hold in his fist.  Hardin activates the device, and the results are instantaneous:

The guy in red falls down dead, dropping his weapon; then, while the guy in blue is still insanely gloating, Harding scoops up the abandoned pistol and shoots him.

Cap’s instincts appear to be right on the money, as in the very next moment, the headlights of a car coming up the drive become visible.  Unfortunately, this is the remote-controlled vehicle “manned” by dummies that Taurey was talking about a couple of pages back — and when Cap rushes to intercept it, only the quick action of the Falcon (who’s been tracking the car from the air long enough to recognize the whole thing’s a set-up) saves him from being blown to bits when it spectacularly explodes…

Captain America and the Falcon return to the house; there, they drink coffee and ponder what to do next, given that they have no other clues on how to find Harding, let alone “Big Daddy”.  “Frankly, Cap, we can use a miracle!” opines Falc.

After explaining to Harding that Carol is not only unharmed, but has been relocated to “where she can receive the finest in medical treatment”, our heroes go to work persuading the frazzled man to spill the beans on everything he knows.  Harding is reluctant at first, saying that he’ll tell them nothing if his daughter “is dragged into this”; rather than tell him it’s a little late to worry about that, Cap implores him to think about the 240,000,000 other lives at stake — “millions of Carols who may go mad — and die!  Think, man, think!!  They’re all your daughters!”  Finally, an exhausted Harding agrees to ccoperate…

In the spirit of that last page’s breathless “next issue” blurb, let’s barrel right on into Captain America #200, as Jack Kirby and Frank Giacoia (who also produced the issue’s cover) bring us this story arc’s “big Bicentennial climax,”

Cap and his S.H.I.E.L.D. allies first have to get past the Taurey estate’s automated defense system — a “sonic wave projector” capable of wiping out a whole company of men — which S.H.I.E.L.D.’s technicians are able to quickly and quietly disable thanks to information provided by Mason Harding.  Then it’s on to deal with the Elite’s armed mercenaries…

As the city where the Declaration of Independence was adopted, Philadelphia is, of course, a highly appropriate site for the Elie to set off “Big Daddy” — though it’s a little surprising that Kirby doesn’t include any visual references to Independence Hall or other local landmarks to help set the scene.

Kirby has highlighted Sam Wilson’s perspective as a Black American man previously in this storyline, and I think that it’s significant (if not particularly surprising) that he makes an explicit return to that theme in this climactic chapter.

As the guards fall unconscious to the floor, the Falcon radios an all-clear to the airborne S.H.I.E.L.D. strike force who’ve been waiting nearby…

Meanwhile, back at Mar-a-Lago the Taurey estate, Captain America and his team have surprised and overcome a barracks full of mercenary soldiers…

Wait, did that caption say “William Taurey“?  Wasn’t the guy’s name “Malcolm Taurey” just one issue ago?  Yes, it was — but Kirby (who hadn’t bothered to give the Elite’s leader a first name at all in his first appearance, back in CA #194) has either forgotten about that, or has simply decided that he likes the symmetry of having both Taurey and his hereditary enemy, Steve Rogers, have the exact same names as their 18th century ancestors.  Your guess is as good as mine.

Meanwhile, back at the Taurey estate, William and his Elite guests are toasting “a future already on its way out“.  One of his guests expresses the hope that their dear leader’s “greatest wish be fulfilled,”  and a second echoes and elaborates on that sentiment: “Yes!  May the death of William Taurey’s ancestor at the hand of a Continental rebel be avenged!”

First referenced in issue #194, the conceit of these two modern-day opponents re-enacting a conflict between their ancestors of two hundred years prior is about as improbable a narrative convenience as can be imagined — but it works thematically (at least for this reader) and allows Kirby to provide a satisfying balance between the parallel victories of Captain America and the Falcon — allowing Falc to have the bombastic, all-action triumph over the Madbomb itself while Cap has an equally dramatic, if less violent, confrontation with the man responsible for its existence:

The nine-issue “Madbomb” saga is unquestionably something of a mess, structurally speaking.  But it just as surely has some memorable sequences along the way, and the final episode brings things to an exciting and satisfying climax, suitable both to the occasion of Captain America‘s 200th issue milestone and to that of the American nation’s 200th birthday.  No, it’s not what Steve Englehart would have given us, but on its own terms, it’s still a pretty good story.

Of course, back in 1976 this issue wasn’t quite the last word on the Bicentennial, either for Captain America as a hero, or for Jack Kirby as a creator.  Marvel Treasury Special Featuring Captain America’s Bicentennial Battles #1 would arrive in June — still a little early for the actual Big Day itself, but hey, why quibble?  We’ll be taking a look at that one next month — but, in the meantime, our observance of Marvel Milestone Month continues this Saturday with a rundown of Thor #250.  I hope to see you then.

 

*For the record, the Marvel Bullpen Bulletins column for this month noted the unusual confluence of numerical milestones via the following “ITEM!”:

…although, for whatever reason, the anonymous Bullpenner responsible managed to overlook Thor #150.  Oh, well.