As longtime readers of this blog well know — actually, as anyone who just started reading it three posts back has likely already sussed out — your humble blogger was very partial to superhero team books back in the day.  In the particular period we’re currently dealing with (i.e., in and around 1976), either Marvel or DC Comics could drop a new team title (or revive an old one) and it was all but a sure thing that I’d sample at least one issue.  There were a couple of exceptions, both on the DC side (the new Freedom Fighters and the revived Teen Titans, for the record); but, generally speaking, you could throw a bunch of costumed characters together, slap a group name on them, and my younger self would feel compelled to take a look — even in cases where the team seemed to have no real reason to exist (yeah, I’m looking at you, Champions). 

One team making its debut in the mid-1970s that unquestionably did have a very solid concept behind it was Invaders.  The brainchild of Golden Age überfan Roy Thomas, it could be described as the Timely Comics take on DC’s Justice Society of America that never was… at least, not during World War II.  In the actual comic books published in the 1940s by the company later to be known as Marvel, the five superheroes who would comprise the core lineup of the Invaders didn’t get together in a team setting until All Winners Comics #19 — a comic which came out in the fall of ’46, well after the end of hostilities between the Allies and the Axis.  But hey, never mind all that; in the spring of 1975, the “Timely Age of Comics” was getting a Modern Marvel Makeover.

Like another Marvel hero-team concept starting out around the same time — the All-New, All-Different X-Men — the Invaders had not one launch, but two.  Coming into being at the tail end of Marvel’s roughly one-year-long foray into giant-sized comics, the new/old team managed to appear in a single issue of Giant-Size Invaders before the publisher’s plans changed, and they were slotted into a new, regular-sized title instead; unlike their mutant colleagues, who simply picked up their old title’s original numbering with #94, the Greatest Superheros of World War II managed to score a second #1, just two months after their first.

Somehow, my younger self managed to miss the first of those two first issues (though I picked it up as a back issue in relatively short order, if memory serves), but I got the next one, and had no trouble jumping in with what was a relatively straightforward concept: In the early days following the entry of the United States into the Second World War, five heroes — Captain America and his sidekick Bucky, the Human Torch and his sidekick Toro, and Prince Namor, the Sub-Mariner — are drawn together by circumstance to foil a Nazi plot involving the Third Reich’s own super-powered operative, Master Man.  At the end of the episode, British Prime Minister Winston Churchill suggests that the inadvertent allies remain together to fight the Axis threat, and the Invaders are born.

This premise, combined with the inherent appeal of the main characters as well as my general appreciation for Roy Thomas as a writer (sure, he’d long since been knocked off his perch as my favorite Marvel Comics scribe by the two Steves, Englehart and Gerber, but I still enjoyed his stuff) was enough to mitigate my general lack of enthusiasm for the series’ artist, Frank Robbins.  Also making Robbins more acceptable to my personal taste in the specific context of Invaders was my sense that what I saw as the crudity of his style didn’t seem all that far removed from the relative crudity of much (though by no means all) of the Golden Age comics art that I’d seen up to this point.  Robbins’ approach to superheroes, which I found jarring in a contemporary-set comic like Captain America or Ghost Rider, was easier to accept (if not exactly embrace) as simply being “old-fashioned” when applied to a period piece set in the Forties.

Invaders would never be my favorite comic book — not even close — but it had enough appeal to keep me buying and reading for the majority of its forty-one issue run (for the record, I bowed out with #34, right after the team met the Mighty Thor and a young Victor von Doom).  And while my memories of most of the series’ storylines have faded over the years, a few still stand out — and none more so than the one we’ll be looking at today, which introduced both Baron Blood and Union Jack to the Marvel Universe.

This one’s actually a three-parter, with the ostensible main topic of our discussion, Invaders #8, being only the middle chapter.  So our coverage will commence with Invaders #7 — where, behind a cover pencilled by the co-creator of Cap and Bucky, Jack Kirby, and inked by Frank Giacoia (albeit with probable touch-ups by John Romita, per the Grand Comics Database), “The Blackout Murders of Baron Blood!” is brought to us by the series’ regular creative team of Thomas and Robbins, with Vince Colletta on inks.

As our story begins, the Invaders are stationed in London, England, helping to protect the British capital from an aerial assault during the city’s mandatory nightly blackout.  After the attack has been successfully repelled, the dependably human-averse Namor heads for solitude in the waters of the River Thames, while his comrades set out to grab a bite and relax a bit at one or more of London’s “G.I. spots“, as Bucky calls them.  Or at least Bucky, Toro, and U.S. Pfc. Steve Rogers do — their fellow Invader, the Human Torch, begs off, saying he’d rather be alone for a while.  It seems that he’s feeling a little blue over the fact that, despite his moniker, he’s the only member of the team who isn’t the least bit human — after all, even the Sub-Mariner had an ordinary Homo sapiens dad — but is, rather, an android.  (The Torch’s synthetic nature seems to have hardly ever come up in the course of the Torch’s Golden Age adventures; but it was clearly something that we readers of the ’70s would expect to see addressed in a modern Marvel comic, and Thomas readily obliged us.)

The Torch begins a solo perambulation of the darkened, rubble-strewn London streets, and presently…

Momentarily distracted, the Torch is taken off-guard when his foe — who helpfully identifies himself as “Baron Blood” — employs one of the traditional powers of the vampire, “the mystic control of the elements“, to conjure up a mighty wind which temporarily snuffs out the hero’s flame.  The Torch quickly re-ignites, but then…

This time, the Torch manages to stay aflame, at least long enough to execute a soft landing; but the vampire makes a clean getaway.  The hero then goes to see to the young woman and her fellow Civil Defence Service volunteer, Derek; she’s only shaken up, but he’s been injured badly enough to need emergency medical help, and so…

This, incidentally, is the last we ever see or hear of the unfortunate Derek, which makes it interesting that Thomas and/or Robbins went to the trouble to give him the distinctive attribute of lameness.  Perhaps our storytellers were trying to indicate the toll that the war was having on ordinary Londoners, though there’s no direct evidence of Derek’s disability being war-related.

Something that I’m not sure I ever noticed when reading Invaders in the Seventies, and of which I still might have remained unaware but for Tom Brevoort mentioning it on his blog a few years back, is that while Frank Robbins generally goes for authentic period detail in his representation of the WWII era, he nevertheless routinely gives his male characters what Tom calls “big 1970s hair”.  This is true whether we’re talking about teenage boys like Bucky and Toro, young adult men (OK, androids) like “Jim Hammond”, or even older gents like Lord Falsworth.

Having been born in 1917, Robbins was hardly unaware of how most men had actually styled their hair in the early ’40s; so you have to figure this was the result of a conscious decision, made either by the artist himself or by Roy Thomas — perhaps in an effort to help the strip look a little less dated to contemporary readers.  It’s a choice that a more realistic or illustrative artist might have had trouble getting away with, but which the expressionistic, exaggerated approach of Robbins mostly makes work.

Despite the script’s assertion that the Torch is already familiar with “the famous ‘masked spy-buster’ of World War One“, this is in fact the very first appearance (or mention) of Union Jack in a Marvel comic.  For the record, UJ has the distinction of being Marvel’s first patriotic-themed British superhero to make it to newsstands, beating the somewhat better-known Captain Britain to the punch by six months.

Like Union Jack, the other members of “Freedom’s Five” are appearing here for the very first time — with the important exception of the Phantom Eagle, who’d debuted in his very own tryout strip in Marvel Super-Heroes #16 some eight years prior, and had turned up in a couple of stories since then.

“If he’s truly returned,” Lord Falsworth continues, “then the Nazis of today have gained a most fearsome ally!”  That’s all the Human Torch needs to hear; he immediately takes to the sky to write a summons to his teammates in the form of a flaming “V for Victory”…

Per “Rascally Roy”‘s query, my younger self had given little if any thought to the question of how the vampires of the Marvel Universe disguised their extra-long and pointy canine teeth to pass for human; nor, I suspect, had Tomb of Dracula scribe Marv Wolfman, nor any of the many other Marvel writers who had or would turn out vampire yarns for the publisher, for the simple reason that I don’t recall Thomas’ “fake choppers” solution ever coming up in any other story.

Once the four heroes already assembled have been joined by Namor, they proceed on to the manor house, where the unflappable Lord Falsworth calmly instructs his butler, Hotchkins, to set four more places for dinner.  Meanwhile, his daughter Jacqueline extends the hospitality of the household, most particularly to Captain America — a move that appears to cause the Human Torch some mild consternation…

We’ve now come to the centerpiece of our post, Invaders #8, which sports another fine cover by Kirby and Giacoia — the strongest of the trilogy, in your humble blogger’s opinion.  Past the cover, Thomas and Robbins continue their tale with “Union Jack Is Back!” — though Vince Colletta has been replaced as inker by Frank Springer.

Per Roy Thomas’ comments in an interview published in Alter Ego #70 (Jul., 2007), Colletta’s departure may have had an affect on the sales of the Invaders title, as well as on its look.  After noting Robbins’ general lack of affinity for the approach to depicting action that fans expected from a Marvel superhero comic, Thomas continued:

…when Robbins had to do Kirby-style action, where Jack would draw people really straining when they leaped and punched — well, Frank’s version of it came out a bit more rubber than steel.  It wasn’t quite right for Marvel, yet it was so good on its own terms, so I figured, “Maybe if I got it inked in a more Marvel style — !”  …I got what I still feel is a good idea — having Vinnie Colletta ink The Invaders.  Of course, that made it poor Frank Robbins, but it made it look more like the other Marvel books…  He’d take off some of that rubbery look that might’ve stopped people from taking Robbins’ stuff as seriously as they wanted to take Marvel Comics.

 

It worked. I don’t know if it’s total coincidence, but those seven or so issues Vinnie inked sold quite well.  Then he left to become the assistant art director at DC…  And I made Frank Springer the Invaders inker, and the result was a much closer approximation of Robbins’ style. And the sales immediately dropped.  I don’t blame that on Frank Springer, because that’s what we wanted him to do.  For whatever reasons, the sales declined, even though we’d just introduced Union Jack and we had Kirby covers.  The book never really recovered…

While I don’t specifically remember my younger self’s reaction to the changeover from Colletta to Springer on Invaders, what I do recall about my personal taste in general would lead me to believe I considered it a net loss — though not nearly so much as to make me drop the book.  And that’s a good thing as far as this post is concerned, since it means we can continue with our narrative.

We rejoin our heroes and their new, aristocratic acquaintances at dinner, which is already in progress…

At a prompt from Captain America, Lord Falsworth tells the company how he first encountered Baron Blood back in World War I, explaining how, following a successful mission behind enemy lines, he’d been summoned back to London to meet with no less a personage than his nation’s Prime Minister, David Lloyd George…

After making the ascent to confront Baron Blood atop Tower Bridge, Union Jack soon discovered that his foe wasn’t simply playacting at the bloodsucking-creature-of-the-night bit…

Jacqueline Falsworth is in no mood to listen to the Invaders’ attempts at placation; after angrily challenging her father to tell their guests why she feels the way she does, she excuses herself from the table…

Lord F. hasn’t yet told his nephew that his aunt’s been dead for two years?  Assuming that John’s appearance on the stairs at the end of issue #7 wasn’t the first time the two Falsworth men had seen each other face to face in all that time (and the story makes it pretty clear that it wasn’t), that seems unlikely enough to be nonsensical.  I mean, I’m familiar with the concept of British reticence, but surely there are limits.

Accepting Lord Falsworth’s invitation to spend the night at the manor house, the Invaders resolve to begin patrolling for Baron Blood the following evening.  The next morning, Captain America apologizes to Jacqueline for what went down at dinner the night before.  He assures her that none of the Invaders relish war, and he’s sure her father doesn’t, either; but Jacqueline still has her doubts.  She confesses her anxiety that her aging pops might try to get involved in the current conflict…

Once back in London, the Invaders split up so as to more efficiently search for Baron Blood, with Cap and Bucky hitting the streets, Subby plumbing the depths of the Thames, and the Torch and Toro taking to the skies.  It’s the latter duo who first find success… or so it initially appears…

Union Jack lunges at Baron Blood with his silver knife, intending to finish the job he’d begun two decades before.  But the vampire is too fast, and punches UJ to the ground, instead…

“…but don’t be sure which one!”  I guess Roy Thomas thought he might lure some readers into speculating that maybe one of the five veteran Invaders was going to take a temporary leave of absence from the team, rather than jumping right to the otherwise obvious (and, in the end, completely accurate) conclusion that the Invader who would reach his “End” in Invaders #9 would be the old guy whom we’d never heard of before this storyline, and who was besides the only member of the team whose post-WWII fate wasn’t already well known.  I doubt the ploy was all that effective; but nice try, anyway, Roy.

We begin our look at issue #9 with the cover — another fine job by Jack Kirby, though there’s  a different Frank on inks for this one than for the previous two — i.e., Springer, rather than Giacoia.  Turning to the book’s interiors, we find the same creative team of Thomas, Robbins, and Springer in place for our tale’s conclusion.

“An Invader No More!” begins with the early morning return to Falsworth Manor of six Invaders, where before there’d been but five.  And while our six costumed heroes are all pretty stoked about this latest development, not everyone else is nearly so happy.  Jacqueline Falsworth, in fact, is thoroughly pissed off — and she’s also pretty sure she knows who to blame…

Union Jack has everything worked out as to which Invader should patrol where — but team leader Captain America throws a wrench in those plans, explaining that UJ needs to remain at the manor to stand guard over Jacqueline, should her assailant return.  Reluctantly, he agrees; and soon thereafter…

What followed was just what you’d expect — after hypnotically forcing John Falsworth to drop his cross, Dracula put the fangs to him, rendering him a lifeless corspe… at least for the time being…

This flashback sequence would have been a really good spot for Roy Thomas to explain why the newly-vamped John opted to give himself an alias and wear “a mask and fancy get-up” (to borrow the Torch’s phrasing from issue #7), as well as to answer the even more intriguing question of how he acquired the ability to fly without first becoming a bat; alas, he failed to do so.  A few years after this, however, an entry in The Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe #13 (Feb., 1984) explained that German intelligence had given John his code name, while also noting that his costume “helped inspire terror in his victims”; the same article went on to speculate that John’s transformation into a vampire might have “awakened in him a latent psionic capacity for self-levitation”, which I guess is as good as any other explanation for the flying business.

And now, back to Baron Blood, whom I so rudely interrupted in mid-sentence…

The Baron’s hypnotic power is no good against the Torch’s “blinding, bedazzling light!”  But what he really wants is Jacqueline, and so he grabs her up in his arms and flies out of the window and away.  The Torch attempts to follow, but Blood has called up a rainstorm which weakens the hero’s flame enough for the vampire to land a hard kick that sends him falling to Earth.  He lies there unconscious for a time, reviving only when a no longer mesmerized Union Jack comes upon him, and demands to know where his brother has taken his daughter.  A still dazed Torch can give the distraught father no certain answer, but does at least know the general direction the vampire and his intended prey were heading: “Over that way…!”

While still holding Jacqueline with one arm, Baron Blood breaks off a stalactite from the cavern ceiling and hurls it at his brother, knocking him off his feet.  He then leaps forward to finish the kill…

Following Cap and Namor’s unsuccessful attempts to take down the Baron, you’d expect the Torch (with or without Toro) to have a go next — but, for whatever reason, that doesn’t happen.  And so, in the end, it’s up to the badly injured Union Jack, Lord Falsworth, to try one last time to save his beloved daughter from a fate arguably worse than death…

It would actually be the issue after next that would see the arrival of “a new and startling Invader”, as issue #10 — just the third to be released on the new, monthly schedule the title had advanced to as of #8 — fell victim to the Dreaded Deadline Doom that regularly bedeviled Marvel Comics in the mid-’70s, so that it was forced to feature the reprint of a Golden Age yarn from Captain America Comics #22 (Jan., 1943) rather than the new story we were expecting.  But, soon enough, the month of September, 1976 brought us Invaders #11, in which we bore witness to the origin of Spitfire — aka Jacqueline Falsworth, whose life was only saved by a blood transfusion from the Human Torch which, wouldn’t you know, combined with the residual effects of Uncle John’s vampiric bite to give Jacqueline the power of super-speed.  Naturally, she immediately chose to deploy that power in the service of the Allied cause as an Invader… though it wouldn’t be until the following issue, #12, that she’d actually adopt the name Spitfire (after the famous British fighter plane) and don a red-and-yellow costume befitting her new role.

Jacqueline — or “Jackie”, as she’d come to be more familiarly called — would remain a part of the Invaders title through to its end.  If memory serves (and it may well not), the “romantic triangle” between her, the Torch, and Cap never amounted to much, which is probably just as well; if you’re only going to have one woman on a super-team (which was the case for most of the Invaders’ original run), she should function primarily as a valued teammate, not as a source of interpersonal friction.  She’d go on from there to have a postwar career as well, eventually getting a rejuvenating shot in the arm that has allowed her to continue to be a player in the Marvel Universe to this very day.

As for Union Jack, the unfortunate Lord Falsworth (whose first name we’d eventually learn was “James”, just in case you’ve been wondering) would never walk again following the events of Invaders #9.  However, he’d pass his mantle down to his son, Brian, who like his sister, eventually joined the Invaders.  Unlike Jackie, however, Brian’s postwar exploits would reach an early terminus, with Roger Stern and John Byrne revealing in Captain America #254 (Feb., 1981) that he’d died in an auto accident in 1953.  Nevertheless, the identity of Union Jack would, concurrent with the passing of James Falsworth in that same storyline, be taken up by Joey Chapman — a friend of the family whose working-class origins may readily seen as providing some needed balance in the field of patriotic UK super-people, given that the family that produced Marvel’s Captain Britains, the Braddocks, are virtually as aristocratic as the Falsworths.  Chapman would carry the legacy of Union Jack into membership in the Knights of Pendragon and the New Invaders, as well as a couple of self-titled miniseries; like Spitfire, he remains active in the modern Marvel Universe.

That leaves us with the black sheep of the Falsworth family, Baron Blood, who — unsurprisingly, for anyone who’s read (or watched) a vampire story or two — has ultimately proved to be practically as resilient as his sire, Count Dracula.  Returning to the pages of Invaders for a second round in #39-41 — the three issues that closed out the title’s original run — John Falsworth was resurrected in modern times by Stern and Byrne in Captain America #253 (Jan., 1981), the first half of the two-part storyline that also featured the debut of the third Union Jack.  He’s managed to hang around (upside down, one can only assume) ever since, holding on to his sobriquet even in the face of attempts to claim it by three other vamps (one of them a female).  As of this writing, his most recent appearance has come in connection with Marvel’s recent vampire-forward “Blood Hunt” crossover event, via a three-parter which ran in Avengers (2023 series) #14-16.

In this story, Steve Rogers leads a pick-up team of auxiliary Avengers against his old foe, who’s leading a horde of fellow fangers who share his fascist ideology.  Mid-way through the first chapter of the arc, one of Captain America’s comrades, Hercules, bemoans the circumstances that ever allowed vampires to come into existence in the first place; this prompts a mild but memorable rebuke from Cap, whose words seem a pretty appropriate way to end this post about Invaders issues #7 through #9 and their legacy:

“…I’ve never known a good Nazi.”  Still fine words to live by, if you ask me.