It was one of those dramatic events in time of war. Civilians, threatened by an invasion by a remorseless and intractable enemy, desperately calling for military bombers to attack that enemy as it surged towards the defenseless town. In a raging storm a brave crew volunteers for the dangerous mission, with the fate of the city in their hands. Such brave acts were often required during the violence of the Second World War. Just not usually in Montana.
In 1906, a famed explorer saw something on the horizon that would lead an expedition of men to search for a magnificent land they hoped would be full of new and undiscovered treasures for science.
One famous dolphin lived near the shores of New Zealand in the late 1800s, and swam alongside hundreds of ships, becoming a beloved figure to locals and foreigners alike, and described as ”the best known fish in the world.”
It was relatively common in the middle ages for Kings, royals, and various other titled men to die in combat, and they were at least usually expected to fight personally. Despite the dangers of medieval combat and the expectations of nobility, however, many at the highest levels of aristocracy died in less than noble mundane accidents, and even in embarrassing circumstances.
In April of 1894, a young man from Pittsburgh left Tabriz, Persia, aboard a bicycle, bound for the turbulent land of the Ottoman Empire. His story had seen coverage in newspapers around the world - attention would only magnify when he mysteriously disappeared in the remote terrain of Turkish Armenia.