In the history of British comics, there have been many bizarre adventure strips. But the story that haunted me for years after I first read it was called 'Moon Madness'. Of all the quirky strips to appear in UK comics over the years, it must surely rank as the most bizarre of all.
    In one sense 'Moon Madness' would have been better suited to the 1950s, as life-on-the-moon fantasy fiction was being replaced with realism; I recall a six o'clock news episode when a when the first pictures of the Moons surface were relayed back from Luna-9, and a reporter raised the possibility of catching sight of a 'Moon creature'. A very terse Patrick Moore stated that only if virus or bacterial life might have grown very large there might such a sighting be possible.
    However, though recent technological leaps made the premise of 'Moon Madness' quite untenable, it did not stop it being an utter delight to read. Conceived by group editor Alf Wallace and drawn in black and white by artist Brian Lewis, it enjoyed a seven-week run 'Smash!' in 1966.
Alf Wallace had cleverly used the real life Moon landing by the Soviets of unmanned probe Luna-9, the first ever successful attempt at a soft landing by an Earth probe, which back in early 1966 looked to have given the Soviets a clear lead in the race to get a man on the Moon. The craft had safely touched down in the area of the Moon known as Oceanus Procellarum (Ocean of Storms), then started transmitting data by radio signals back to Earth.
The probe terminated its transmissions, as was duly expected. Back in 1966, there were no means of re-booting a probe as in the fashion the recent 'Voyager' deep space probe had been updated from Earth recently. The Russians had the technology for a few solar panels to recharge batteries when Luna-9 had finished; all expected that to be that!
    Inexplicably, though, after a few hours it moved its position and restarted transmitting on a different wavelength. Sir Bernard Lovall at Jodrell Bank observatory was totally perplexed by the turn of events. To this day it is unknown as to why Luna-9 moved position before recommencing transmitting again for a time, and on a different frequency! It finally ceased altogether on 6 February 1966.
    With this mystery fresh in mind, the story of 'Moon Madness' was unveiled to readers of 'Smash!' in issue No 9.
    The opening panel was a truly haunting picture, drawn to perfection by Brian Lewis, of the opened (like a flower) petal arrangement of Luna-9. (This and the whole strip were drawn in black and white, which worked far better with this type of tale.)
    In the distance of the bleak landscape, planet Earth is displayed above the lunar horizon. Far more intriguing, though, is the sight of a diaphanous, yeti-like creature, through which part of the Earth can be seen! What could this mean? As a ten year old reader, I was hooked!
    This story proper begins with a typical family discussing news of the probe's lunar landing. A caption informs readers that after relaying data and photographs, the transmissions ceased (which in reality they did for some hours). We are then told that after some days the probe 'awoke' and began relaying information to Earth once more. This is where reality ends and fiction begins.
    That evening, all across the UK dogs begin to howl and cats to screech, as if in torment. Perhaps it is an portent of things to come?
The following morning, a farmer in Perthshire, awakened by the bellowing of his bull, phones the local constable to tell him about a strange mound that has appeared in one of his fields. The nearby RAF base sends up a helicopter to investigate. The two military personnel gasp as they hover above the designated field: they can clearly see that the 'mound' has the shape and form of a huge arm and three-fingered hand that stretches at least 100 feet! The bull in the adjoining field can be seen furiously charging the fencing in ever desperate attempts to break through to the shape.
    The men report back to their superior officer, who concludes "needs further investigation". Meanwhile, the enraged bull has finally broken through to the field where the object lies, and rushes towards it. Suddenly, the hirsute arm moves, and three huge clawed fingers and a clawed thumb, which had been buried fully below ground, have the bull in a vice-like grip! The image was thrilling and terrifying.
    'YOU DARE NOT MISS NEXT WEEK'S FANTASTIC INSTALMENT OF 'MOON MADNESS!' declared the excited caption below the final panels of the second page of the strip. I certainly dared not, and made certain I bought next weeks 'Smash!' as soon as it came out.
    Episode one was a superbly intriguing start to this story, with Brian Lewis outstanding artwork complementing it wonderfully. In my opinion, the story was rendered even more exciting in that it did not clearly tell readers what was happening, but rather hinted at events.
    In episode two, we are introduced to Professor John Silverlight, who has been asked to look into the mystery. He drives to the farm, and gasps in astonishment as a great shape blocks the road. His car is grasped by great clawed fingers and lifted high. The car now falls to the ground, leaving Silverlight struggling in the grasp of the great hand. He manages to squirm free, luckily landing in a large patch of muddy soil which cushions his fall.
Silverlight makes for a nearby village and is taken in to a villager's home… at the same time, a great clawed hand demolishes a cottage as it pulls itself slowly across the village outskirts.
    The story then moves to Stonehenge, where soldiers have been called out due to another strange mound appearing. This one rises up to become… a huge pair of densely matted hairy legs and a lower torso, some 150 feet in height!
    By now the alarm has gone out, and a squadron of Chieftain Tanks are positioned at the southern side of the Forth Bridge, waiting for the southward-bound arm. The tanks open fire in a huge bombardment that hits the hand full on. But… there has been no effect! The next moment the hand is crushing the tanks as it scrabbles over them. Fully armoured vehicles are crumpled like tin foil, and at least one poor soldier is caught in the carnage.
    At a hospital Edinburgh, a small group of men– armed services leaders plus a top civil servant– demand to see Silverlight, who was brought there in a high fever. Silverlight lays motionless in his bed, oblivious to his visitors. The doctor draws back Silverlight's pyjama sleeve to reveal what look like a series of needle marks. It is the RAF representative who makes the correct supposition, that Silverlight's flesh was punctured by the creature's fur!.
Silverlight suddenly utters a few words! "The Old Man. Look on top of the Old Man…"
    The story now returns to Stonehenge, where the great legs have 'legged it'. The panel shows a startled farmer falling off his tractor (as you would) upon seeing half his farmhouse demolished as it catches a glancing blow from one of the great striding legs.
    The great legs continue crashing through villages. By now the whole country is on alert, and a flight of heavily armed RAF Lightning jets catch up with the legs over open countryside. The planes fire their missiles. When the explosions and smoke finally fade, the sight of the unharmed legs, still trudging along, greets the stunned pilots.
    In Whitehall, a top level meeting between armed forces and security chiefs is taking place. They realise that the arm is moving south and the legs northward in what looks like a deliberate manoeuvre to link up.
    A senior army officer suddenly figures out the meaning of the words "The Old Man"–it is a mountain in the Lake District. The Air Marshall arranges for a helicopter to carry some of the team to the mountain.
    The next instalment opens with the awesome aerial view of the Old Man peak in Westmorland. Embedded into the top of the mountain is yet another body part… this of an upper torso with a right arm!
    The forces chiefs viewing from inside the helicopter are stunned by the scenario, "A body and an arm! It-it's unbelievable!" exclaims one officer, as if he had been having a normal day until then.
    The great legs are now tackling the ever increasing incline of the mountain. The men in the helicopter now see the beginnings of a link up of body parts. Sadly, the reader is denied what must be one very bizarre juggling act as legs and torso amalgamate; only a comment from someone in the 'chopper' relays to the readers what is transpiring.
    The readers now see the sheer size of the assembled body parts: they tower some 250 feet into the sky.
    Back in Whitehall, one of the security chiefs recalls that John Silverlight sensed the presence of the creature's trunk on the Old Man. Two hours later, a now recovered Silverlight is being pressed by the chiefs of staff to try and recall more about the creature. He can sense that the events of the recent Luna-9 landing, and then transmission of signals, is involved. "This creature transmitted itself to Earth in energy form on the electronic signals from Luna Nine!" They realise it is re-assembling itself.
    The great trunk and legs are now marching northwards, while the other arm is still scrabbling its way south. They finally meet up in Northumberland's Cheviot Hills, where the arm is collected and the creature now stands complete except for the head. The behemoth moves on…
    Soon, a helicopter with John Silverlight on board is tracking the creature's path. The creature reaches the coast and starts to plod seaward, leaving great two metre deep holes in the beach. Slowly it wades out into the North Sea, to be engulfed by the depths.
    It seems that the creature has destroyed itself, and that the state of national security can now be relaxed. There is one person in disagreement, however–Silverlight insists that "It is seeking its head on the bed of the sea!" Unfortunately, no one believes him.
    Two weeks later, a north-sea trawler is making its way homeward when a great clawed hand reaches up from the sea and grasps the vessel. The ship begins to capsize, and there is only time for the radio operator to tap out a hurried message mentioning a 'monster'.
    Yet again, a top level meeting is called at Whitehall, with a worried prime minister asking the blindingly obvious: "Could it be the headless thing that walked into the sea two weeks ago?" (Always listen to the professor!)
The next panel shows a young boy up on the sea cliffs, staring at fear at a colossal figure emerging onto the coast. A close-up of the now creature's face is now presented. The head is rather like a guardsman's 'Busby', with an almost duck-like face: two circular dark eyes set on a smooth oval plate, with a long slit mouth. It reminded me of a TV Times cartoon character called 'Tivvy'. Strangely non-threatening…
    The final chapter of the story begins with the creature gazing up at the full Moon in what seems like a mood of longing, as if it somehow recognises the heavenly body as home. A caption tells us that it longed for its fellow creatures (So! There were more of them!); and that it was Alone amid a bewildered terrified mankind which prayed for its destruction.
    John Silverlight phones a government experiment signal station to ask if the station can transmit radio signals to the Moon (they can). When he locates the colossal creature in a quarry, Silverlight explains "When the creature's fur punctured my arm it seemed to form some sort of bond between us. And I've got to put my faith in that!" (Ah, now we see the dramatic irony of his surname!)
    The creature, recognising the affinity with the man before it, slowly follows Silverlight back to the car, which drives off with the great behemoth following behind it.
    They lead it to the experimental station, on the premise that "It came here on a radio signal from the Moon - and now we're giving it a chance to return to base in the same way."
    As the transmissions begin, gigantic creature stands patiently, somehow realising that it is being helped. The minutes tick by… nothing happens… but then Silverlight exclaims "Look! - It's arm! It's disappearing!" Gradually, the rest of the creature begins to fade.
    Soon, only the head remains, at ground level. The eyes look straight at John Silverlight in a way which portrays that it fully comprehends the link that human and lunar beast now have between them. The head finally breaks down into energy pulses until nothing of the creature remains.
But Silverdale heads home with the troubled thought, "Somehow I don't feel quite the same."
    The final panel of the story is every bit as haunting as the very first Moonscape scenario. It is night, and the full Moon illuminates the city skyline. Great tower blocks are shown in silhouette their lit windows giving a 'domino' like effect to them. Another silhouetted figure is seen in the foreground, a human figure. It is reaching up in a position of either worship or supplication. Around the outstretched hands there glows a ball of energy. From the hands a discharge similar to a lightning strike bursts upwards, towards the glowing sphere of the full Moon.
    A caption informs us that at this next occurrence of the full Moon, a strange change had come over John Silverlight. His blood tainted by the Moon creature's fur, Silverlight's fate is now linked forever with each full Moon.
The final paragraph gives hint to what I, and I'm certain other readers, thought would be grounds for a sequel. It stated that one day the strange almost unbelievable story of SILVERLIGHT THE MOON MAN may be told, AND IF TOLD IT IS, IT WILL BE IN THE PAGES OF SMASH!
    For those readers expecting an orgy of violence in an explosive final battle scene, the ending was possibly a disappointment. But I thought it superb! We learned that the creature wasn't evil, more a frightened, child-like figure. It hadn't caused loss of life or the damage across swathes of the country on purpose; it was just trying to survive.

    I did find it unusual that it was only scattered across the UK as it is only a very small sector of the whole planet; the USSR or USA would have been more logical! But who needs logic in this story? (Plus, how fast can a three-fingered hand crawl!?)
    Even in 1966, the idea of a 300 foot 'Yeti' type creature existing on the Moon (let alone a colony of them) was fantasy. Apart from radiation from the Sun, there is not exactly a feast of delicacies up there to live on! But it didn't matter; it was such a gripping, eerie story!
    In fact, it haunted my memory for years, and not until the folks on 'Comic UK' site came through was I able to revisit it after all this time!
    Thanks are due to Lew Stringer for his help in tracing the story after so many years. More thanks to Steve Holland and Nigel P. (don't know Nigel's surname-sorry!) I should especially like to thank Irmantas Povilaika who kindly posted me photo copies of every episode from his home in Lithuania. Without these I could never have given such detailed breakdowns on each episode.

    Text © Alan Smith 2009

    All artwork copyright Odhams Press/IPC Publications Ltd 1966.

    Many thanks to Jody Kihara for editing this piece.